#what if ive been working ten feet away from a blond person for the last three years

[unopenablebox]

shocked to learn how many of my mutuals were blonde children from that hair color poll going around. the blonds walk among us, disguised, indistinguishable

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[lostcoves]

ft. taishiro toyomitsu (fatgum) x gn!reader

genre: angst with a bittersweet ending 

wc & warnings: 1.7k | hospitals, blood, bus crash, alcohol, drunk!(y/n)

premise: your first day in university of tokyo hospital’s emergency room is surely a day to remember.

note: my contribution to @instantnuma​’s love hospital collab! i had a blast writing this piece as someone who comes from generations of medical personnel! hope you all enjoy!

university of tokyo hospital, home to some of the most renowned minds in the medical profession.

and somehow you ended up here as an intern in their emergency department.

why the emergency room of all places? couldn’t they have assigned you to pediatrics?! you loved kids! kids were cute! why did it have to be the emergency room?

you panicked easily, ironic for someone who just graduated medical school to pursue a career in medicine. at least, you weren’t a surgeon. you knew your limits.

you hovered by the nurse’s station, unsure what to do. you were supposed to meet your attending, dr. toyomitsu. yet, they were nowhere to be seen.

damnit, did my attending really flake on my first day? you thought to yourself, shuffling a bit by the nurse station.

BAM! the doors of the emergency room swung open, revealing a large blond handsome man performing cpr on the person attached to the stretcher. the paramedics wheeled the wounded in and the handsome man began shouting orders.

“kirishima, i need fifteen milligrams of morphine, stat! get me some wrap for this sucking chest wound, too!” the man commanded the room with an iron fist.

you couldn’t help but watch in all, as the handsome man treated the patient’s wound. a spiky redhead- you assumed to be kirishima- appeared behind you with morphine and wrap, securing the patient’s wound while nurses hooked the patient up to the machines.

“page the OR, amajiki. this man is gonna need major surgery,” the handsome man directed an indigo haired man. the other man- amajiki- got on the phone and informed the operating room of the patient.

you could only stand in awe, as the patient was whisked away into surgery. you slowly clapped at the heroism of the man before you, “sir, that was—”

“all in a day’s work,” he answered with a lopsided grin.

“your clothes, though..” you pointed out the man’s blood soaked shirt and pants. he shrugged it off and commented, “i’ll be changing into my scrubs anyway.”

“scrubs? you’re a doctor?” well, duh he was a doctor. why else would the medical personnel listen to him?

“yup! i’m doctor taishiro toyomitsu! but everyone calls me dr. fats!” he exclaimed, extending a hand to you.

your eyes widened at his name, “you- you’re my boss! i’m doctor (l/n), (y/n) (l/n). i just graduated form medical school.”

“ah! my new intern, great!” he was such a positive ball of energy. you just realized that he towered over you, now that he was off the stretcher. what a big fellow! he then added to you, “lemme introduce you to my residents. they’ll be here to help you out, as well.”

dr. toyomitsu gestured to the redhead and indigo haired duo from earlier, “this is doctor eijiro kirishima, second year resident, and doctor tamaki amajiki, fourth year resident.”

the redhead- kirishima- waved excitedly at you, “it’s good to meet you, dr. (l/n)! welcome to the team!”

the indigo haired man- amajiki- hung his head low, “uh huh.. good to have you on- on the team.”

“now that introductions are out of the way!” dr. toyomitsu grabbed a white coat off the coat rack, “let’s get to work, folks.”

─────────────────

you collapsed in the on call room, exhausted and sweaty from the past eleven hours of your first shift. suture after suture, panicky parent after panicky parent.. god, why did you make emergency medicine your second choice after pediatrics?

“hey,” dr. toyomitsu took a seat next to you in the on call room, “sucks that your first day was a twelve hour shift, huh?”

“i haven’t been this exhausted since last year’s finals,” you grumbled.

dr. toyomitsu laughed, “you’re funny.”

“i am?” you questioned.

“you are,” he paused, “what made you decide to choose emergency medicine as your speciality?”

“they ran out of openings for internships with pediatrics,” you replied honestly.

“okay so what made emergency medicine your second choice?” dr. toyomitsu reframed the question.

you pondered on it– you didn’t think you had a really good answer– so you decided to speak from the heart.

“emergency medicine is crucial for saving lives and i wanna save as many lives as possible,” you answered. dr. toyomistu sensed your sincerity and gave you a smile, “and i’m sure you will achieve just that but be aware.. sometimes you can’t save everyone.”

you opened your mouth to respond when dr. toyomistu’s pager went off. he checked the device and leapt to his feet, “bus crash. all hands on deck! you wanna save as many lives as possible? now it’s time for you to prove it.”

you sat up and ran after dr. toyomitsu into the emergency room, horrified by the scene before you. so many injured, some strapped to stretchers and others dragging themselves inside. 

“doctor! we got a red!” a paramedic hollered to you. you rushed over to the stretcher and yelled, “what do we got?!”

“female, age seven! possible internal bleeding and multiple fractures!” the second paramedic exclaimed. you stared down at the little girl and froze. she was so small, caked in blood and her dress in ruins. god, no. she was too young, too young and innocent.

“doctor, we need to act fast!” the first paramedic shouted.

“yes!” tears stained the little girl’s dress, “get me an iv and a cocktail of vitamin k, plasma, blood, and platelets! stat!”

a trio of nurses ran over with the supplies and hooked the girl up to an iv, administering the cocktail into her body. you checked her vitals and sighed in relief, she was stable.

“we gotta find her parents, what’s her name?” you asked the paramedics.

“only form of id was on her backpack,” the second paramedic handed you the girl’s belongings. the name ‘yuki’ was sewn on with purple thread. you frowned, “get the cops and child protective services. we need to find her family.”

“i’ll do that,” one of nurses spoke up.

“thank you,” you turned your attention back to the unconscious girl. you gently stroked her fine black hair, “we’re gonna find your family, kiddo. i promise.”

─────────────────

all the living injured were treated after three hours. your heart hardened from the sight of doctors having to inform family members that their loved ones didn’t make it. but your mind kept wandering to little yuki. you had to find her family.

“any word on your kid’s missing family?” dr. toyomitsu took you aside, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. you shook your head and answered, “i’m scared that they were on the bus with her and.. and..” you sniffled, you couldn’t finish your sentence.

“come here,” you and dr. toyomitsu embraced, tears flowing freely from your (e/c) eyes. you wanted yuki to return home safe, that was all you wanted for her. you and dr. toyomitsu ended the hug, you staring up at the attending with sad eyes, “thank you.”

“of course,” he answered before checking his watch, “looks like we’re off the clock. wanna grab a drink?”

“sure, i could use one after day,” you sighed. the two of you went your separate ways to change clothes before meeting outside the hospital’s entrance. dr. toyomitsu looked good in a fresh change of clothes.

“i wanna praise you for surviving your first day on the job,” dr. toyomitsu mused aloud when you both arrived at the bar, “most interns don’t make it to hour ten, much less the whole shift. plus, the way you handled the bus crash cases, i applaud you.”

“well, don’t,” you grumbled, “i froze up when it came to yuki.”

“but she didn’t die,” he countered.

“she almost did,” you fired back with a glare.

dr. toyomitsu’s expression softened, “okay. maybe you did freeze up but what’s important is that you didn’t freeze up for too long.”

“i guess..” you waved down the bartender and ordered a rum and cola. 

“you’ll have a better day tomorrow. i can already sense it,” the handsome doctor commented to you. you laughed bitterly and exhaled, “one can only hope so,” before downing your rum and cola.

“i wish- i wish i could be like you,” you hiccuped, three rum and colas in. dr. toyomitsu, on the other hand, was five drinks in and holding it well. he raised an eyebrow at you and asked, “what do you mean?”

“you.. you’re so confident and cool!” you giggled, “like a superhero! and you’re hot, sooooo hot!”

dr. toyomitsu blushed at your words but he chalked it up to you being drunk, “thank you, dr. (l/n). that makes a lot to me.”

“of course!” you playfully nudged him, “but we’re off- off the clock! call me (y/n)! okie dokie? i’m (y/n)!”

“okay, (y/n). only if you call me taishiro.”

“okayyyyy, taishirooooo!”

time seemed to fly, as you drunkenly interacted with your boss. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere but you felt your inhibitions slip away. taishiro had to cut you off after drink number five, not wanting you to get sick from the alcohol. 

“lemme get you a cab,” taishiro took you outside the bar and called you a cab.

“i don’t wanna leave you!” you whined. 

“you’ll see me tomorrow,” he chuckled.

loopy, you grabbed onto taishiro for stability and slammed your lips sloppily against his. taishiro tensed up from the kiss and pulled away.

“i’m sorry,” you hiccuped, tears in your eyes, “i’m drunk.”

“that you are,” he agreed.

“i’m so scared for yuki.

“i know. i am, too.”

a long pause.

“i wanna kiss you again.”

another pause.

“i wanna kiss you, too.”

so the two of you kissed, logic and reason out the window. taishiro’s lips tasted like candy, oh how you loved the taste. you pulled away from the kiss for air and smiled.

“see you tomorrow.”

“see yah, (y/n).”

maybe you two could kiss again when neither of you were drunk.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Next One’s on You 3/5

A/N: Thank you so much for reblogging, commenting, and liking! I read them all and I really appreciate it. Let me know if you want to be added to a Taglist. This is my personal favorite chapter so far. :D 

Summary: A series of moments in the life of Maxwell Lord and reader centered around drinks. 

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language 

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @ghostwiththemostbitch @mrsparknuts @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @maxlordsgf @xjaywritesx

My Masterlist 

Chapter Two - Vodka Martinis 

Chapter Three: Orange Juice 

Our start was rocky. From the unwanted solicitation, throwing a latte in his face, the note, that horrible date with Tom, and being doused in freezing water. You really thought that things couldn’t get any more rocky. Until you met his mother. Mrs. Lord as she commanded you to call her, was a complete and total bitch. 

Coming in like a hurricane and leaving nothing but devastation in her wake. After that night you continued seeing Maxwell Lord. You’re first date he rented out an entire movie theater, and didn’t even pay attention to the movie, his face buried in your neck the whole night. Followed up by small dinners at his mansion, and late night drives in his blood red corvette, the top down, you curled up against his side after a long day at work. 

After each one of these dates his toxic mother would swoop into your work and threaten you with anything in her arsenal. How she could get you fired, lose your apartment, sue you for some insignificant thing, and each time you would kindly tell her to fuck off. But she wasn’t just going after you but Maxwell as well and her claws were deep into him. Preying on all his fears and insecurities that she had instilled in him from a young age. Whispering lies in his ear that she had you tailed and were cheating on him, just using him for his money, or worse trying to get a baby out of him so he would be paying you for eighteen plus years. 

Each time he would come to you and you would remind him something his traumatized brain forgot in those moments….how much you loved him. 

Yes, he was an egotistical, rich, asshole and that is what the world thinks of him. But you saw so much more than that. The way he would take off your sticky non-slip shoes and rub your feet after a long day at the shop, stinking of coffee grounds. How he would hold your hand and rubs circles with his thumb whenever he drove you somewhere. The way he would make love to you with such tenderness, the aftercare where he would clean you and hold you so close you could feel your heartbeats sync together. You were his deepest secret, proof to the world that Maxwell Lord had a heart. Although no one knew that. 

You sit on the couch with your ice cream watching TV. Maxwell had a charity gala this evening and you're watching the news coverage hoping to get a glimpse of him in his tux. You had given him a new pocket square for his birthday last week and he promised to wear it. You dip the spoon in and lift it up to your lips when it clatters back into the carton. You put it on the table and crawl on your knees closer to the TV. 

Maxwell Lord IV is being interviewed by a local reporter looking immaculate. Not a single strand out of place and smiling jovial as he answers the questions. But that isn’t what caught your attention...it’s the blonde woman on his arm. You recognize her instantly as a model on the cover of the magazine your roommate bought yesterday. She is gorgeous, thin, wearing a floor-length pale pink dress, and a diamond collar. Her hand rests in the crook of his elbow and he has one hand over her own. 

“Mr. Lord, is this your girlfriend?” the reporter buzzes. 

“Oh Kitty here?” he kisses the beautiful woman's cheek and she giggles, “No, she is just a good friend of mine, I don’t have time in my life for any serious relationships.” He smiles at the camera again and you notice the pocket square is a pale pink to match her dress and not the one you bought and you feel the ice cream sour in your stomach. 

You reach for the knob and turn off the television laying down on the floor looking at the small cracks in the ceiling. You recall the conversation about this gala replaying it over and over again in your head. 

“Do you want me to attend with you?” 

“No, it’s just some boring charity gala we have ten to fifteen a year. I wouldn’t want to bore you with having to endure that for an evening,” he adjusts his tie and smiles over at you laying in his bed. 

“I understand,” you nod leaning up to kiss him softly, “Are you...going with anyone?” 

“No. I haven’t been attending these things with anyone since you and I...since you and I,” his eyes soften as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in yours. “You know how much I love you darling, I just want to keep you all to myself. If I bring you to this gala the press are going to start asking questions and….I’m not ready to share you with the world yet.” 

You smile, tightening the grip on his hand, “As long as I don’t have to share you with anyone either.” 

“There is no one else, you’re it for me honey,” he pulls you in for another kiss and you sigh. 

Your heart shatters thinking of the model and how perfect she looked on his arm. She would be the perfect addition to Maxwell. The words of his mother seep into you and your self doubt begins to bloom. You shake your head and get off the floor, put the ice cream away, and go to bed. The heaviness of your heart dragging you to sleep. 

The next morning doesn’t get any better. Your usual good morning phone call with Maxwell never comes and you go to work and try to clear your mind, sure it’s nothing. When your lunch break comes and still no call or even show of him you call his work. His assistant tells you regretfully that he is in meetings all day and can’t be reached. The sick feeling in your stomach continues to grow and when you get off you decide not to wait around for him, catching a cab to his home. The whole staff knows you and greets you happily and the chef makes you a sandwich and listens to you babble about your day as she cleans up. 

The household quiets down for the night and when it hits eleven and he’s still not home you take off your clothes, put on one of his shirts and crawl into bed. Determined not to let him get away with ignoring you all day. The next morning you wake up early, having tossed and turned the whole night. But this time the bed isn’t empty. A warm arm is draped across your waist and his mouth is pressed against your head holding you close. You sigh and watch him sleep, his face free of worry as he dreams.

You carefully eject yourself from his arms and go into the kitchen starting the button on the coffee. It’s very early and the chef isn’t even here yet so you decide to make some breakfast for yourself and Maxwell. The difficult conversation may be easier over food. You get out the egg whites, onions, peppers, mushrooms, and cheese for omelets and get to work cooking. Halfway through turning on the small radio and dancing around the kitchen to some Beegees. You're almost done cooking, putting the omelets onto the plates and pulling out a carton of orange juice and pouring a glass. 

You hear a slight chuckle and whirl around to see Maxwell Lord IV in his grey sleep pants, white shirt, and wearing bright blue cookie monster slippers you had bought him as a joke since he has a secret affinity for cookies. “What are you doing honey?” he asks, gesturing to the mess. 

“I...I thought we could have breakfast together and...talk...we need to talk Maxwell.” 

He lowers his head and nods grabbing the plates and juice before setting them down at the small kitchen table. Usually he liked to eat in the grand dining room but the small eat in kitchen table was your favorite. He sits close to you and digs in groaning at the taste. “This is delicious.” 

You give a half hearted smile, taking a bite and putting down your fork, turning to him, “I saw your interview at the gala....why did you lie to me about not having a date?” 

He grimaces, “my mother surprised me,” he sighs, “I was getting dressed for the gala and she shows up with Kitty, throws your pocket square in the trash and pushes us into the limo with her. I get the feeling that Kitty didn’t have much choice as well, but we played the part. I never wanted to lie to you, I just didn’t have time to tell you.” 

“Then why ignore me all day yesterday? No call, no visit, and when I tried to call the office they said you were in meetings all day.” 

“I was in meetings all day and I am so sorry about not calling in the morning but I had to take care of something very important yesterday.” 

“What was it?” not taking no for an answer. “My mother,” he rubs a hand over his face, “I had breakfast with my mother...I told her that what she did the night before was unacceptable and that I wanted to be with you. Of course she spent the entire day arguing with me but I couldn’t give a care. And at the end of it all I told her she needed to choose. Either she accepts you and we move forward or she can forget that she has a son.” 

“Maxwell,” you beg, “why didn’t you call me? I could have gone with you, you shouldn’t have had to do that alone! What did she say?” 

“She told me if I wanted to marry that poor coffee shop bitch, then she would never speak to me again.” You're silent as you process his words. Marry…? 

He stands from the table and goes into the foyer of the house. You can hear him digging in his coat and he comes back with a tiffany blue box. He drops to one knee before you and tears sting in your eyes, rubbing at them furiously. 

“I told her goodbye and then went to pick up the ring from the jewelers, I ordered it three weeks ago,” he opens the box and you gasp at the princess cut diamond surrounded by sapphires. “I had this big proposal planned, candles, champagne, a string quartet, your favorite restaurant. But, when I woke up this morning and saw you in my shirt, dancing and cooking breakfast, I thought this was a much better time. Plus you know how impatient I am darling.” 

You let out a watery chuckle and nod in agreement. Allowing him to continue, “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to bring you to every gala, show you off to the world, and every morning I want to wake up with you in my arms. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” you cry, “yes of course, I will marry you,” you're openly sobbing and he has tears streaming down his cheeks as he slides the ring onto your finger. Pulling you out of your chair and into his lap as he kisses you passionately. His hands running through your hair and holding you close. 

“Oh my,” the chef opens the door seeing you both on the floor in a passionate embrace and backs out. You laugh calling them back, “We’re engaged!” you shout and the chef and butler run into the room congratulating you both. Maxwell smiles at you and you beam back at him kissing him again. 

A loud knock sounds at the front door and the butler rushes out to answer. Returning a few moments later apologizing as Mrs. Lord slams open the door. “Maxwell!” she shrieks, and you groan holding on tighter to your fiancé who is rising to his feet and pushing you behind him, locking his hand within your own. 

“Mrs. Lord?” he asks, “If you want to speak with me you will need to schedule a meeting with my assistant.” You squeeze his hand in encouragement and watch as she gapes like a fish.  

“You can’t be serious?! You are seriously going to give up your mother for some cheap whore?!” 

He steps forward and growls, “She is not some cheap whore, this is my fiancé and you will never speak to her like that again. I am tired of being your punching bag, allowing your toxic words to seep into me. I will no longer allow you to control me, we are done. Now good day Mrs. Lord.” He tightens his grip. 

“Maxwell, you can’-” she stammers and is cut off when he yells raising his voice. 

“I said good-day! Get the hell out of our home, you are no longer welcome.” She tightens her grip on her Hermes handbag and straightens her Dior dress before glaring daggers at you. 

“This isn’t over,” she hisses and turns on her heel stomping out of the house. 

When the door slams shut behind her, the staff quickly leave you two alone and you hold him close in your arms. Leaning up to whisper in his ear, “I am so proud of you.” He sighs and holds you tighter, placing a kiss to your temple. “I couldn’t let her talk like that about you.  You are going to be my wife, and no one will ever disrespect you like that.” 

“You’ve really changed Maxwell, I think some of those things you said to me the first time we met,” you tease and he groans. 

“Despite our rocky start and how much of an utter asshole I was, I wouldn’t change a thing. Because it brought me to you. I love you sweetheart,” he kisses you gently. 

“I love you too. Do you...do you think she’s going to do something bad? She seemed very angry when she left.” 

“Whatever happens, we will face it together. She is a bitter old woman, what’s the worst she can do?” he holds you close to his chest and reaches down for his orange juice taking a large drink. “Let’s just focus on the next thing.” 

“What’s next?” you sigh taking the glass from him and taking a deep drink. 

“Planning the wedding of the century darling.” 

You cough loudly. Oh fuck what have you gotten yourself into now? 

Chapter 4- Champagne (check master list for link)

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 6

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics, by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as good as it seems…. 

 Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] [chapter five]

 Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror 

 CW: aggressive religiosity, deadname use, police questioning, hospital setting,

CHAPTER SIX: THUNDER AND PRAYER

       Arch awoke upside down in the passenger’s seat of the blue truck. The midnight storm was still sweeping through the ranches and into the city and they were alone there. The man who had thrown them against a brick wall and threatened them into their vehicle had disappeared. 

       The seatbelt dug into the side of their neck and injured shoulder. The moment it was released, Arch would fall headfirst into the top of the cab. They tried the clip as best they could with their left arm. It tingled, threatening to combust in a fury of pain if it weren’t for the rush of adrenaline fighting the broken glass and seatbelt. It was stuck. The clip wouldn’t release. They could be here for hours, for ages... all alone.

        Flashing lights came from above them- or was it ahead of them? And the shouts of a man and a woman could be heard overhead. Some kids were also talking and yelling.  

        “Call 911, Janey!” The man shouted. The passenger-side door was forced open with a crow-bar.

        Arch cried with relief as he pulled them out, supporting their head as they dropped down. The wife was speaking to someone over the phone as she helped Arch lay down flat on their back in the over-grown wet grass. A blanket was placed rolled up under their head. The comforting cloth mixed with a strong sense of relief. If they had the energy, Arch might have started crying, but doing something even that simple was just too exhausting. Raindrops splattered against their face until the recognizable sound of an opening umbrella prevented any more from dropping down. The family spoke amongst themselves but the words were jumbled now and nearly incoherent for Arch to pay attention too. A little boy was holding the umbrella. He couldn’t have been more than eight. Arch managed the tiniest smile for him as they floated in and out of consciousness.

       “You’ll be okay,” he said. “My mom’s a nurse. She’ll fix you up.”

       His raincoat was dotted with little red and blue dinosaurs. Arch counted them. There were six red tyrannosauruses, eight blue triceratops’ and then-

       There was a beep... And another... And another. Their throat was dry as a brick. Arch opened their eyes first. Glowing light of day from a veiled window to their right drowned everything around them in white. They blinked, becoming accustomed to the brightness.

        In the corner of the small room was a chair reserved for visitors. Alarm bells sounded in their mind as Arch narrowed their gaze and spied on the person sitting there, still yet unaware that they had awoken.

         He was reading a book; a used and reused copy of Meditations. Lyrem licked his thumb, and turned the page. The alarm bells calmed. Arch chalked it up to being beaten to a pulp and then waking up in a strange new place; a hospital bed.

        “Save some for me, will you?” Arch spoke dryly, literally, as well as figuratively. They managed a crooked smile as Lyrem looked up from his book of yellowed pages and kindly smiled back.

        In a fit of dry coughs, Arch tried and failed to lean up. They found the tubes leading to an IV out their arm and a blood-oxygen measure clipped onto one of their index fingers. Lyrem put his book down on a small side table and stood. He pressed a button on the side of the bed, and Arch was lifted to a more comfortable sitting position. He brought them a clear cup of water with a straw. Arch tried lifting their arm to accept it, but Lyrem shook his head at them and pushed it back down gently. He brought the straw up to their lips. Arch nearly drained the cup before finally nodding it away.

        Lyrem leaned against the windowsill and watched them carefully. Their whole body had been battered. Whether it was entirely from the crash or something else, he couldn’t be sure.

        Arch looked back at them curiously, and puzzled. Then they looked around the rest of the small room. The door to the hall was open and filtered through white noise from doctors and nurses all around.

        “What are you doing here?” They asked, “where’s my mom?”

        “She… was here. She called the store. She left to run a couple errands and said that she would return soon.” Lyrem grimaced as he answered. “I’m not sure what could have been more important than being by your side, but alas, I remain. I closed the store for the day.”

        “What? Why?” Arch coughed lightly. “You make the most dough on Saturdays. You should keep it open.”

        “I’d much rather not.”

        Lyrem left his response hanging there. Without more to say on the matter Arch shifted in their bed uncomfortably. Relieved, they were, they were also troubled. Angry, even, but for what reason, Arch couldn’t say.  

        “There were officers waiting by the door for you to wake. Should I let them in for you? Tell them it’s an alright time?”

        “Officers?”

        “Well, nobody knows what happened to you or how you ended up on a rural highway flipped over in a truck”- Lyrem stopped himself. Becoming too passionate, he sensed.

        “Huh. Right.” Arch nodded. Thinking back to the night before was causing a pain in the back of their eyes- like they were being pulled into the back of their head.

        “What if you told me what happened first, then I’ll let the officers in and you can repeat it back to them. It might be easier for you,” Lyrem helpfully suggested.

        “No, no, I can speak to them now.” Arch insisted. “I’d rather speak to them now.”

        Lyrem nodded, and then stepped to the door, finding the two officers chatting down the hall. One blue uniformed woman with a tight, blonde pony-tail glanced in his direction over a steaming Styrofoam cup. He motioned for them to come in with a wave of his hand. The other, a tall, younger man with a thin chin pulled out a small notebook as he entered. Their name tags read Parsons and Grenn, respectively.

        Detective Parsons began by explaining that the police were unable to find the driver of the blue Ford. The truck was both unregistered, and uninsured, so there was no trail to follow to know who it had belonged to. The last known owner died in 2003 and afterwards there was no trace of it anywhere in the system. The plates on the vehicle had been stolen, and if the driver was careful enough, its stolen plates would have gone unnoticed for as long as the registration would last on it.

        “At the moment, we have no leads on finding this individual”-

        “My attacker, you mean. They attacked me.” Arch spit out. “Labels are important, you know.”

        “I know it can’t be a comforting thought. And I am sorry, but you must understand that we are doing everything we can to find the person who attacked you.” Parsons implored. Never once had her professional demeanor faltered under the scrutiny of the rightfully furious teenager.

        “He was a man.” Arch started. “He was quite a bit taller than me too. Probably six feet at least… White. It was dark but I could tell he- he had dark hair. Kind of shaggy-like”-

         Grenn had written it all down, and Lyrem stared at Arch in interest as they described the man. Parsons stopped Arch from continuing to describe him as she placed her cup down on the side table beside Lyrem.

        “We’ll send this to the sketch artist. They will be flying in over the next couple days. With the disappearances of your classmates as well, we are pulling out everything in our arsenal to get a detailed picture of who attacked you. We will be calling you in a couple days and you’ll be coming into the police station to speak with them.” Parsons explained emphatically. “For now, we need a timeline- where did they find you? What time was it when they attacked?”

        “Oh…” Arch felt rather silly for some reason. “I… I was pulled into the alley by the flower-shop...”

        “Which flower shop?”

        “Bloom Treasury, downtown. Half a block from Mystics.”

        Lyrem looked concerned, or possibly angry… with the thickness of his brows and the wrinkle in his forehead, Arch couldn’t be quite sure what he was thinking.

        “Mystics?”

        “It’s just a store, where I work.”

        “Were you working last night?”

        Their heartrate started to increase. Arch carefully measured their breaths by seconds.

        “No... No, I wasn’t, I was just walking.”

        “What time were you walking?”

        “I..” Arch had the strangest sensation of being back in the passenger’s seat of the blue Ford. The voice of the man rang in their head in an echo of a memory. Missing time? He had said. “I.. I think I’m confused.” Arch finished.

        “It’s understandable. I know its very hard to think back to the incident, but for the sake of finding this man and bringing him to justice, we have to know what time it was when it happened.”

        “It was after sundown.”

        “Can you be more specific?”

        It wasn’t long after dinner that Arch had left, and sundown wouldn’t have been until after ten. It only took a half hour to reach the downtown core from their house so where was the missing time? There was an hour, maybe even longer that was completely unaccounted for.

        “I think it was just after ten,” they said finally.

        Grenn made his notes again.

        “What kinds of things did he say to you?” Parsons inquired. “Anything you can remember will be helpful.”

        Lyrem gazed across the room steadily at Arch who met his eyes. It was hypnotically comforting to know he was still there, watching over them and keeping them safe.

        “He was… kind of strange.” Arch said, almost in a mutter. “Though, he mentioned the other kids. He knew that the others were taken: Jess, Kyle, and … Marcus.”

        “Did he tell you they were still alive?”

        Arch shook their head slightly and winced.

“He said he killed one of them already. He couldn’t be sure when the other two would die- if they already were… y’know, dead.”

        Parsons paused and turned to Lyrem who was laid back in the armchair deep in thought. She had noticed an odd connection. Arch had been darting their eyes to the corner each time they responded. Seeking approval, she surmised quietly.

        “How did you escape?” Parsons asked turning back to them again.

        Arch thought for a moment.

        “I stabbed him… in the leg... with his own knife. That’s when he lost control of the truck.”

        Grenn looked up from his notes briefly, with brown eyebrows raised.

        “What kind of knife?”

        Parsons looked at officer Grenn; surprised by the question.

        Arch switched their gaze to them. “A hunting knife… the big kind with a dip at the end.”

        “How does a guy walk away from a car crash with a Bowie knife in his leg?” Grenn asked allowed.

        The question caused Arch a visible discomfort. They turned away from everyone and remained quiet.

        “I believe that is everything for now.” Parsons gathered herself and straightened her uniform, “Thank you for your time, -----. We may have more questions for you when you come into the station for the sketch artist. You’ll soon be contacted with a date and time.”

        Parsons handed over her card to the bedridden teen who was unable to lift an arm, much less retrieve it from the detective’s hand. Parsons placed in on the table beside Arch instead and then followed Grenn out the door, leaving her Styrofoam cup behind.

        Arch took a long breath of relief as they left. For the first time, they stared down at themselves. Fresh cuts littered up and down their left arm, while their right was also cut up, but supported by a sling. Beneath the blankets, Arch could feel the light stinging of several more wounds against their legs. Their neck ached with every miniscule turn of their head and their back…

        They wiggled their toes, thankful for the movement, but regretted it all as they tried mightily to bend one of their knees. The middle of their back screamed of pulled muscles and bruises that were carved into them. Arch seethed as they let their leg down gently.

        “Don’t try to move.” Lyrem advised, picking up his copy of Meditations once again. “You can press the button next to you if you want more pain medication.”

        “I don’t want more medication; I want to go home.”

        “And you’ll get to your house of horrors again soon, but for now, just close your eyes, and get some sleep.”

        “I can’t sleep. He knew my name, Lyrem. How am I supposed to rest if he’s still out there?”

        Lyrem looked up from his book, becoming impatient, but in his eyes, it was clear that he tried to be supportive. He steeled his gaze on Arch and opened his mouth to speak. He was interrupted by Arch’s mother, who peered in with a bouquet of pink lilies in one hand.

        “Is she awake? Oh, thank the Lord.” She crossed herself as she entered and put herself directly next to the bedside. Letting the flowers down, she planted a hard kiss on Arch’s forehead that was too close to the rest of the injuries already planted there.

        Lyrem rolled his eyes to the ceiling and stood up.

        “Well, now that your mother is here, I suppose I should get going; leave you both in peace”-

        “Oh no, you should stay,” Arch’s mother turned on her heels to Lyrem and ushered someone else through the door: a short balding man, recognizable to Arch as a family friend with a plain white collar around his neck. “I invited Father Ferley to lead us in prayer. Won’t you stay, Lyrem? The more hands we have lifting to the Lord, the better.”

        So that was the errand, Arch realized.

Lyrem stared at the woman and managed a facetious grin. There was a bit of levity to the situation after all. Arch nearly burst out in laughter as he stood there, unsure of himself or what to say to the invitation.

The presence of the priest in the room was clearly putting him off. It wasn’t that Lyrem was nervous or humbled by the man, as much as it was like he had just drank a glass of spoiled milk and was desperate to get the lingering vile taste off his tongue.

        “I’d prefer not to,” he stated simply.

        “Ah, you read Aurelius?”

        The priest lifted his thinly rimmed glasses, pushing them higher up the bridge of his nose. He inquired Lyrem innocently and continued.

        “Quite possibly one of the wisest Emperors of Rome. ‘Live a good life,’ he said. ‘for if the gods are just, then they will not care for your devotion, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by,” the priest smiled to him warmly.

        Lyrem regarded him with suspicion, but played along.

        “You quote his Meditations like Corinthians,” Lyrem observed. The annoyance slowly drained from his face and he stood taller, squaring himself. “Tell me then, the next line of that heavenly wisdom. Do you recall what it is?”

        Lyrem waited for a beat and met Father Ferley’s gaze with a coldness he usually reserved for the most wretched of people. He finished the verse himself.

        “If the gods are unjust, then you should not want to worship them.”

        “What the hell are you weirdos talking about?” Arch spouted rudely. “Can we please just pray and get it over with, if that’s what we want to do?”

        “Yes, lets.” Arch’s mother pulled the two men by their elbows into a half circle around the bed. Lyrem stood at the foot of it, unhappily supporting himself on the bars of plastic and metal.

        Father Ferley led the small group in prayer. The details of the prayer itself were unimportant, except for the fact that Arch heard their name being correctly used. That was a nice change. The other detail that was noticed by Arch before the ‘amens’ commenced, was Lyrem, white-knuckling the edge of the bed as he suffered through the words spoken.    

        The man didn’t offer an ‘amen’. He turned around as it ended, and picked up the Styrofoam cup that was mistakenly left behind by Detective Parsons. He bid the three farewell, and finally escaped them.

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

        “I see it too,” Father Ferley fiddled with the edge of his glasses, as Arch’s mother breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s not uncommon for many older gentlemen to be wary of the promises of God. But I sense that there is a negative energy towards the Lord, and that Arch may be picking up on that.”

        “Her name isn’t Arch- It’s”-

        “Their name is Arch, Charlotte,” Father Ferley continued. “Your child has spent many years honouring you. Perhaps it is time that you also honour them. It may be this very thing that is driving Arch away from you and towards figures of authority that respect them. People like Lyrem. It is what drives them out of their home and onto the streets where they encounter devils like the one from last night.”

        Charlotte buried her face into her hands although there was little energy to stop the tears from flowing. The hospital halls were still bustling with activity though they had left Arch in their room to continue resting for the night. She sniffed, and finally lifted her head. Then she nodded. Clutching the small gold crucifix around her neck, she lifted it to her lips and breathed a deep sigh- thankful that her child was safe from harm.

“What happened was not your fault, but if you want to repair this relationship with your child, you must accept them for who they are. If I were you, I would try to get to know this ‘Arch’. You might even like them better than who they were before.” Father Ferley smiled lightly.

With her spirits lifted, Charlotte followed Father Ferley out of the hospital. She was already planning her words carefully to her child for the next time they’d meet.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 5)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Bucky’s pissed about what had happened to you while he was gone but he’s also feeling unsure about whether you would ever accept his love. As his friends urge him to confess his feelings to you, Bucky’s hesitant to do so because he knows you have all the reason to not accept his love. And Bucky... was... right!

Word Count: 7265

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Steve, Nurse!Wanda, Doctor!Natasha, Doctor!Sam, Doctor!Peter x Nurse!MJ (mentioned), LOTS OF FRIENDSHIP

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Blood

A/N: This one goes out to Naynay and Mari for being so passionate about this fic. I don’t know what I should do without all of you.

His jet black hair had been parted to the side that morning; yet it was still coiffed neatly enough with the loose strands tucked behind his ear. Dr. Barnes had passed a group of giggling interns when he had picked up his morning coffee at the cafeteria, his clean shave causing them to let out a few gasps of glee that they had thought to have gone unheard. But he could care less about the attention.

His wore a pair of freshly laundered navy blue scrubs, his black tennis shoes squeaking slightly against the tiled floors of the hospital as he tread past the crowded lobby and into the elevator.  Heading up to the post-op ward so that he could have a few minutes with you before his morning rounds, Bucky walked right over to the nurses’ desk to see an exhausted Dr. Rogers talking to Wanda.

His arched eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a brief moment, for he knew that his best friend was not supposed to be at work that morning. After all, Steve had covered for him while he had the last two days off from work. Now that Bucky had returned to work, it was his turn to take the day off. He was unsure why he was still at the hospital. “Oh hey, punk! What are you still doing here? I thought you had the day off.” He asked his best friend, giving the blonde male a confused look before turning over to look at the nurse. “And you, Wanda, are you happy now? I went home the other night and didn’t set my foot into the hospital until this morning. What are you gonna do about it now, huh? Are you still going to tell Chief Stark that I’ve been a nuisance and get my ass fired?” He asked her teasingly, snickering before he noticed the dull expression on both of their faces.

Wanda Maximoff was beyond terrified of how the dark haired doctor would react once he found out about what had happened to you while he was gone. After all, she had been the one who had forced him to go home. She had been the one to reassure him that you would be just fine when he returned to work. But you certainly weren’t fine at that moment and she had certainly not kept her word at that. Not to mention that it was her failure to notice that your mother had entered your room that had probably caused you to bleed out in the first place. No one had bothered to interrogate your mother about what had happened and no one knew what she might have said to you. But Wanda knew that there had to be some kind of correlation between your mother coming to see you and you crying out in pain just seconds later. In a way, she felt responsible for what had happened to you and she knew that Bucky would also hold her accountable for it.

Biting down on her bottom lip as she blinked away the salty tears that pricked at her eyes, Wanda looked down at her feet before looking back up at Steve, hoping that he would shield her if his best friend were to lash out at her. Knowing Bucky and his how angry he got, especially when it came to you, even she knew that him staying calm was inevitable. “Bucky, I...” She paused for a moment to catch her breath, feeling her heart beating right out of her chest. She cared for you a lot and seeing you bleeding out like that and crying in pain had only made her feel much worse. Even Wanda had refrained from assisting Sam and Natasha in the OR, letting Sharon be the one to assist them instead. Yet being the one to tell Bucky about what had happened hurt her the most. “I-I’m so sorry...”

The look in her eyes was reason enough for Dr. Barnes to assume the worst possible scenario. He could not help but wonder if that unforeseeable factor he had been so worried about had finally made its delayed appearance. He bit down on his bottom lip before turning over to look at Steve and then back at Wanda. “What happened?!”

Steve reached over the desk to grab Wanda’s shaking hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to calm her down. He knew that she was a lot more sensitive than she lets on and her fearing his reaction did not help with the situation either. “Buck, please don’t freak out but...” He said, calmly, looking over at him with tired eyes that were also filled with worry. “But it’s Y/N...”

Hearing Steve say your name made his heart almost come to a halt. Hearing from Becca about your past had been hard enough as it was, but Bucky knew that you had been through enough shit. He knew that you did not deserve to have more struggles thrown at you, yet he could not help but fear the worst as much as the others. He was growing anxious by the second. “What happened, Steve?! Is she okay?” He asked, feeling his hands grow numb as his palms began to sweat against the paper coffee cup he had been holding. “What the hell happened?! Wanda, say something!”

“Her incision opened up.” Steve informed as he licked his dry lips and let out a sigh, his eyes still heavy from the lack of sleep. But he stood strong before his friend, knowing that Bucky, Wanda and his beloved mentee Y/N needed his support at a time like this. He made a mental note to crash in an on call room after Peggy got into work that morning, for he was not planning on going home until he knew what your mother had said to you. “The steri strips couldn’t keep her closed up and a suture came out. She was bleeding out for a few moments before Sam got to her.”

Bucky’s eyes glazed over at the thought of you bleeding out and he shook his head at his best friend. “No Steve, that’s bullshit! Nat said that the sutures were all in place and that the strips would hold until the wound closed up. You and I both know that’s about ten days post-surgery, not one! And I know that Parker was the one who her closed up. He’s a second year resident, not some incompetent fourth year med student. He has enough experience on how to close up after a surgery; he told me that he didn’t fuck it up either!” Perhaps he may have been in denial, but there was no logical explanation for what had happened to you. He remembered Dr. Romanoff telling him in person that your sutures were in place and that the steri strips were holding strong when you were in post-op. Yet the news of your wound opening up and you bleeding out did not make any sense to him.

Wanda let out a soft sob as she walked around the desk to stand in front of Bucky and Steve. “It was an accident, Bucky...”

“She... told Sam that she jerked and the wound opened up. She was conscious when it happened, didn’t pass out from the blood loss. Parker held pressure while they got her back up to the OR. Sam said she was lucid, talking... as if she was holding back. She didn’t want to pass out.” The blonde male explained, looking down at his feet as he frowned.

“She... was awake?” Bucky repeated, a teardrop finally rolling down his cheek. “So, you’re telling me that she hadn’t administered herself a dose of pain meds... therefore, she was awake when it happened and she was talking to Sam, trying not to pass out from the fact that she was bleeding out from her incision that somehow opened up even though her internal sutures and the steri strips were in place as they were supposed to the last time I saw her?! What the actual fuck?!” He asked as he turned towards a guilt-stricken Wanda and back at Steve. “You’re telling me that she felt the entire pain of the strips breaking off, the sutures coming out and bleeding out... she was awake the whole time it happened? She felt it all? Is that what you’re fucking telling me?!”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry...” Wanda wiped away her tears, unable to even look him in the eye.

“She’s been through enough!” He yelled, not even caring that he was standing in the middle of the post-op ward. “She’s been through enough shit as it is, Steve. She didn’t need-” He paused, letting out a sigh as he ran his hand through his greasy black hair, the tears continuing to stream down his clean-shaven cheeks. “How the fuck did this happen?! Wanda, how the fuck did you let this happen?! How did anyone in this whole fucking hospital let this happen to her?! You fucking told me yourself that she’d be fine when I got back to work! What the hell happened to that?!”

“Bucky, please calm down...” Steve let out a sigh as he ran his hand through his golden blonde hair. “You’re standing in the post-op ward.”

There was another ping of guilt that was tugging at Wanda’s heart. The doctor’s words were rather harsh but she had been expecting them nevertheless. She knew that the words came out of his love for you so she was not going to let them ruin their friendship. She understood that he was extremely emotional so she did not take them to heart. She knew that Bucky would come around once his shock had worn off. But that did not stop her from wanting to stay strong for him and for you. “Her mother went to see her.” She finally confessed, looking up at him and shaking her head. “I don’t know what she might have said to her. But Y/N was awake and her mother went to see her. I only noticed... as she was coming out of her room. Y/N let out this... scream after her mother left; she called out my name... Sam was at the desk and he heard her. He ran into her room as fast as he could. Her entire bed was covered in blood when he found her but she was awake. She said that she jerked and the wound opened up.”

Bucky was furious. Ever since Becca had informed him of the events of your childhood and confirmed his suspicions regarding your parents’ intentions towards you, he had been feeling a sense of hatred towards them. For starters, his resentment had been solely based on the fact that he had loved you more than they ever could. But for the sake of respecting your bodily autonomy and your decision to donate your liver at that, he had kept most of his emotions under control. Nevertheless, this newfound revelation had only caused his blood to boil. But he wasn’t going to let his emotions dictate his judgement. He looked over at Wanda, glaring daggers at her as he held himself back from the thought of storming into your father’s hospital room and lashing out at your mother. “Wanda... you had one job. One fucking job and you couldn’t do that right.” He told her, rather harshly. “Where is she?”

Wanda looked down at her feet as his words and Steve was quick to place his hand at the small of her back, calming her down.

“Back in post-op. Nat was able to control the bleeding, clean up the incision and close her back up. Sam was also there, he never left her side. There was no damage to her liver, no further post-op complications. She lost some blood so she had to be put on transfusions. Other than that, it’s nothing serious.”

“Back in post-op already?” Bucky asked as he raised his eyebrow. “Wait, when did this happen?”

“Yesterday.” Steve replied, only to find his best friend grow more furious. But he had also been expecting him to react that. After all, he had been the one to convince every one of his friends who had been working to not let Bucky know of what had happened to you. After all, he knew that if Bucky had found out right away, he would have reacted immediately and taken out his anger on your parents. He knew that his best friend loved you that much. But he knew that you wouldn’t have wanted him to give your parents such a hard time either, even though they had certainly given you hell. Steve knew it all.

“WHAT?!” His eyes grew wide and they were shooting daggers at him. “A WHOLE DAY?! A whole day fucking day went by since Y/N bled out in her hospital room and none of you had the audacity to pick up the phone and call me?! What the hell, Steve?! What the actual fuck is going on in this place?!” To say that he was extremely disappointed in his friends would be an understatement. Sure, what had happened to you could have been inevitable to say the least. But the fact that none of his so-called friends who also called this hospital their place of employment could have bothered to let him know of this had been reason enough for him to have trust issues from now on. Hell, not even Parker had kept his word and he was pissed about that. “I need to see her.”

Unfortunately, Dr. James Barnes’ forty hour shift had began momentarily, causing him to put away the thought of being at your bedside for now and ditch his half drunk coffee cup in the nearest trashcan. He went off to begin his morning rounds, having his favorite resident Shuri Udaku on his service that day making his life a hell of a lot easier to say the least.

He was a well-oiled machine when it came to work, his never-ending worries about you taking the backseat on his mind as he found himself in scrubbing in before his first surgery of the day. While he was in the OR, the surgery at hand was always what he was focused on. He had performed an aortic valve replacement many times before. He knew it was nothing he could not handle though. He never got nervous about cutting into someone’s heart.

Dr. Barnes scooped up his hair and tie it into a small bun, making sure the loose strands were all tucked under his surgical scrub cap. He then inspected his hands and nails to make sure there weren’t any visible cuts or bruises. He preferred to use the surgical scrub sponge and brush that contained providone-iodine. Tearing the package open and setting it on the shelf above the scrub sink, he first washed his hands with the antimicrobial soap next to the dink, running the tip of the plastic nail cleaner under his freshly clipped nails to remove any dirt. Then tossed it in the trash can, rinses his hands and forearm and began scrubbing with the sponge and brush. He took his time with the morning scrub, making sure he disinfected every nook and cranny of his hands and arms while running the procedure through in his head several times.

A surgery like this one typically lasted two to four hours. But Bucky couldn’t deny that it felt like it was so much longer than that; it felt like an eternity. Yeah, that was the word. By the time he had scrubbed out and left the OR, it was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind. He found himself treading back towards the post-op ward. But as he was about to enter the elevator, he was greeted by a rather exhausted yet still chirpy Dr. Natasha Romanoff.

“Oh... hey Barnes.” The red-headed surgeon gave him a smile, but then bit down on her bottom lip as she followed him into the elevator, a part of her wondering if the man had finally been made aware of what had happened to you while he was gone. But she was not going to assume that he knew about the incident, for he remained way too calm and composed- something she certainly would not have expected from him since she knew how much you meant to him. Besides, Steve had been the one to draw the short straw on being the one to tell Bucky and she certainly did not want to be the one to tell him about it.

“Natasha.” Bucky greeted the woman with a nod as he entered the elevator and pushed the button to the post-op floor. He noticed that she looked rather uncomfortable to have run into him so casually and he understood why. After all, she was one of the many people in this hospital who had purposely kept the fact that you had bled out from him. He let out a sigh as leaned against the back of the elevator, his arms crossed against his chest as his eyes darted towards the changing floor numbers that flashed before him. “I’m not going to hold it against you for not informing me about Y/N. After all, I do know that you’re someone who’s strict on following the protocols. I am not an immediate family member of your patient nor am I listed as her emergency contact. You had no legal obligation to call me. But as her friend and mine... Nat, I trusted you. I trusted you as a friend and as her doctor.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” Natasha told her friend as she let out a sigh, leaning over to hug him from the side. She felt that a certain weight had been lifted off of her shoulders by his words and she was glad that she had been understanding of her point of view in that situation. “I wish I could have told you, I really did. I could have called you as your friend and told you what had happened to her. I wanted to call you as soon as we patched her back up. But Steve and Sam told talked me out of it. We all know how much you care about her, Bucky. We just didn’t want to worry you. Besides, Steve was listed as her emergency contact and he told me that you didn’t need to find out until you got here. He knew what would have happened and I did too. But it was his call to make so I couldn’t say anything else about it.” While the Russian woman had certainly disagreed with the fact that she had been kept from informing Bucky about you, she was well aware that certain consequences had been avoided by not telling him immediately. “And the last thing we all wanted was for you to come back in here during your day off, get pissed and storm right off to her parents to tell them how we all really feel about what’s been going on. That just goes against so many protocols and... we know you well enough to know that... that’s something you would have done. Plus, we still don’t know what happened when her mother went to see her or what she even said to her. No one has the right to ask either.” She reminded with a sigh. “I know the man’s my patient but... Y/N’s my friend and whatever the hell happened between her and her parents, only she can tell us. I don’t even know if she’ll tell us anything at all. She never tells anyone anything.”

He looked down at his feet before looking back up at her. A part of him felt guilty for having Becca look into your past. After all, he had indeed violated your privacy. But he had good intentions in taking that step. He had his suspicions and they had turned out to be right. But should he really be telling Natasha, Steve or anyone else about what he had? Now was probably not the time for it. “We’ll find out what happened when she wakes up. Even if she doesn’t tell any one of us, she would tell Steve. She tells him everything.” Even Bucky knew of your bond with Steve. Even if you never would never open up to him or accept his love, he knew that you were at least able to find some sort of comfort in Steve’s friendship. And he had no problem with that. As the elevator came to a stop, Bucky walked out with Natasha in tow. But I did have something else that I wanted to ask you about her father.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Do you happen to know how her parents are paying for this surgery?” He asked, curiously. Bucky was technically not supposed to know about their outstanding medical bills in Philly, but from adding those numbers to the bill of this transplant, he knew that their bankrupt and unemployed asses could certainly not afford to pay any of it. It just furthered his suspicions about why they had come to New York in the first place. He did not see it as a coincidence that your father had been admitted to the hospital where you worked. There was certainly more to the story and Bucky seemed to have figured it out. “Because Y/N told me that her family was... financially struggling.”

“I wouldn’t know for sure, Bucky. I’m not the one who does the billing for them. I mean, I’m not too familiar with their financial situation either and I can’t really answer that. It’s none of my business.” She replied to him with a shrug. “What makes you ask?”  

“Nothing, just...” He paused for a moment. “I was just curious; you know... they’re her parents either way and I’m sure she’d care. She always cares about everyone, even those who’ve done her wrong.”

As the elevator came to a stop, Bucky stepped out into the post-op ward with Natasha in tow.

“And you care about her.” There was a soft chuckle that escaped Dr. Romanoff’s lips as she followed him down the hallway. “Bucky, are you ever going to tell Y/N how you really feel once all of this blows over?” She asked him, curiously. “I mean, we all know that you feel something strong for her. And even though you haven’t denied it and she may have been oblivious to it... we all know how much you care about her. I think it’s sweet that you’re... putting yourself out there and being there for her when she needs someone. Someone like her needs someone like you and... someone like you needs someone like her. You two would be perfect for each other and as your friend and hers, I just want both of you to get together and be happy. If you know you have feelings for her then, why are you holding yourself back from telling her?” It was clear to her that her friend was smitten. She had known for a while now that James Barnes had fallen hard for you and just like everyone else, she was waiting for him to finally confess his feelings to you.

“I don’t know, Natasha. I mean, I don’t think she’s ever going to trust me enough to let me in. I don’t think she’d trust anyone, if I’m honest. She claims that she doesn’t do relationships and that she doesn’t have that much of a social life. She’s never even bothered to spend much time with any of us friends, let alone go on a date with anyone in the few years we’ve known her. She spends all of her free time helping out at the local homeless shelter. She’s... I know she’s closed herself off, put up these walls around her... for a reason.” He admitted, knowing that the complications of your relationship with your parents was reason enough for you to not tear down the walls that you had already built up. “I do love her, I’m not going to deny that. She chose to go through this transplant alone and as her friend and as someone who loves her, I want to be there for her at a time like this. But does that mean I should take advantage of her being in a vulnerable state for my own personal gain? No, that’s not right. Right now, I think we should all focus on making sure that she recovers from this surgery and has no further complications. Her physical and emotional health... is all I’ve been thinking of. My feelings for her, they’re still there but they’re for me to deal with, not her burden to bear.” Bucky let out another sigh as he walked down the hallway, stopping at the nurse’s desk.

“Oh Bucky...” Natasha frowned as she pulled him into a hug. “You know, when I first met you during residency, I used to think you were this cold-hearted robot who wasn’t capable of having feelings. I mean, it’s true... you’re pretty robotic when it comes to being a surgeon. You don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. But... you are so much better than you let on, Barnes. You are a much better surgeon and a much better human being than you let on.” Rubbing his back gently, the woman sighed. “God, I hope you get through this. I know she’ll get through this, she’s a strong one. But... you’re a good guy and I hope she sees that too.”

Pulling back from the hug, he gave her a weak smile and ran his hand through his hair. “I just... I don’t know how to hold myself back anymore, Nat. I do love her but... I don’t think she’s ever going to let me show her how much I love her or love me back. And I’m okay with that.” Forcing himself to smile despite the pain that was caused by this uncertain, he turned over towards the nurse’s desk to see Wanda.

The nurse had her eyes glued to the computer screen in front of her when the two of them had approached the desk. While the guilt that she had felt when facing Dr. Barnes a few hours ago was still fresh in her mind, she kept herself distracted by throwing herself into her work. But she was aware of his arrival and avoided his gaze nevertheless. “Dr. Romanoff, your patient’s awake.” She told Natasha, her eyes not leaving the screen as she spoke. “Dr. Wilson and Dr. Parker just went down to see her. They’re still in her room, if you wanted to catch up to them.”

Natasha gave Bucky a look of utter confusion before thanking the nurse and walking down the hallway to your room.

The way Wanda had completely avoided having to acknowledge his presence made Bucky realize that he had fucked up. He had now come to terms with how awful he must have been to her that morning. His face sank along with his heart as he walked around the desk to sit down on the chair next to Wanda’s. “Maximoff.” He bit down on his bottom lip, placing his hand on top of hers, his lips curling into a frown as he looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry... I know I was an asshole to you this morning. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I just...”

Wanda blinked as she turned over to look at the dark haired doctor. “I know you love her, Barnes. We all know how much you love her. I’m not mad for letting your emotions choose your words. As a matter of fact, I expected your reaction to be much worse. But I need you to know that... I care about her too, Bucky. I care about her, Steve cares about her, Sam and Clint and Sharon... we all care about her. You’re not the only one who cares about her and I need you to understand that. She’s one of us. None of us would intentionally let any kind of harm come to her.”

He gave her a nod as he looked down. “I... I get that and I’m sorry. Wanda, I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re a good nurse, a very competent one at that. You just had a slip up; you didn’t keep an eye on who was going in and out of her room. But that wasn’t part of your job either so I shouldn’t have given you shit because of that.”

“You know... she is awake. You should go and... see her. You said you wanted to see her this morning and I think she would want to see you too.” She told him as she gave him a weak smile, turning her chair around to finally face the man. “Sam and Peter just went down to check on her and so did Nat. Steve’s been sitting at her bedside for a few hours now-”

“What? Steve didn’t go home?” Bucky asked the nurse, cutting her off. “His shift was over when I came in and he looked pretty sleepy when I saw him this morning. Why didn’t he just go home?”

“Do you think he’d want to leave the hospital after what happened to Y/N?” She asked him, smiling slightly at the thought of how every single one of her friends cared about her. “Bucky, we all care about her and we’re all here for her. We’re all here for you too. Just go... and talk to her. Just tell her how you feel because now’s the time she needs to hear it. She’s alone and in pain and it’s taking a toll on her as a whole. Clearly her mother doesn’t care for her or her sacrifice and her father seems ungrateful. We’re all she’s got. You’re all she’s got and she needs you... because if you don’t tell her how you feel by the time she gets discharged, you might never have the chance to.”

Your eyes glazed over at the pain that you were feeling, not just physically but also emotionally. The transplant itself had been a traumatic experience to say the least, but after what had happened yesterday, your heart was completely shattered. It was shattered beyond repair; no one could fix it now. “You’re probably wondering how this happened to me. And I’ll start off by saying that it was my fault. I was just so... I fucked up. I shouldn’t have expected things to be better and I learned my lesson the hard way. But yes, my mother came to see me and now the entire life that I had built for myself in New York feels like a waste.” Admitting that had broken your heart a million times, but you had become used to that. Just when you had thought that things could be better, they got worse. That always happened to you. It was nothing new.

You felt Dr. Rogers give your hand a squeeze as he sat by your bedside. “Hey... Y/L/N, come on now. You’re stronger than that. You can’t break down like this.”

“I-I... I can’t do this anymore, Dr. Rogers.” You admitted to your mentor as you let the tears stream down your face, you vision still blurry but your mind still more awake than the first time you had woken up from the surgery. You weren’t going to pump more pain meds in your body now. You wanted to feel this pain. You wanted to feel every ounce of it because there was no way it could be worse than the feeling of having your heart broken by your own mother, for the second time at that. “I can’t... be a better doctor or... be a better person. I just can’t... no matter what I do, no matter how far I run away, no matter how much I give back... no matter who I meet and who I trust, I always end up on square one and I can’t do it anymore. I’m done.”

“Hey, Y/N... what are you talking about?” Sam Wilson stood at the foot of your bed as he frowned, his arms crossed against his chest. “Don’t be so stupid. You can get through this and you know that.”

“No, Sam... I can’t. I can’t do it. Every single time something goes wrong, I keep thinking that they’ll get better eventually but... they just never do.” You let out a sob, feeling the pain in your side. But you were much more careful this time not to move too much. You just needed to cry. “Things are never going to be better.”

Even Dr. Parker was upset seeing you like this, for he had looked up to you long before he had even arrived at this hospital as a resident. He had first met you when he was only a young medical student from Queens, having heard about your clinic at the shelter from his girlfriend MJ before he had offered to volunteer during his free time. Even after he had been taken under the wing by Chief Stark himself, Peter had not quit helping you out at the clinic. He had been so inspired by the work you were doing, both at the clinic and at the hospital. But to see the woman he had looked up to crumbling like this eyes, it even broke Peter. “Come on, Dr. Y/L/N... you can’t give up now.” He told you as he sighed, shaking his head. “Dolores and everyone who come to the shelter have been asking about you. What am I supposed to tell them?”

Natasha sat down at the edge of your bed, taking your other hand in hers. “Y/N... come on, talk to us. You can tell us what’s bothering you. You know that right? We’re all here for you, we’ve always been.”

You shook your head as you cried. “No, I can’t. Nat, I can’t... I can’t tell anyone about this. I can’t.” You told her as you sobbed. “I can’t tell anyone...”

“You don’t have to tell any of them, Y/N.” Steve continued to squeeze your hand. “You don’t have to tell any of your friends about what happened. But you can tell me, just me. You always told me that I’m like the brother you never had. If you really meant that, you can tell me... because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go through this alone.”  

As Sam, Natasha and Peter got the memo, they left the room at once. You continued to sob as you felt all of the pain that had been cooped up in your heart weighing you down at once. “Steve... m-my mother came to see me.” You told him, still holding onto his hand and not letting go. Steve had been an older brother to you in every way, having been the one to teach you everything you knew as a surgeon to funding a portion of your clinic to being the one who made sure that you did not spent a single Thanksgiving or Christmas alone on a tiny loft above an Indian restaurant. He had made you a part of his family and you had let him because you respected him too much to turn him down.

The blonde haired surgeon gave you a nod as he stood up from his chair next to your bed, gently pulling you into a hug while not trying to get into the way of the wires and tubes that were still attached to your body. “I mean, Wanda told me that. She saw your mother leaving your room and then she heard you scream in pain right after. Sam found you bleeding out.” There was a pause as Steve let out a sigh and bit down on his bottom lip, being the only one other than Peggy whom you had opened up to and told the whole truth about your relationship with your parents. “I take it her reason for coming to see you was not to make amends or thank you for saving your father’s life like you must have been hoping for. What happened, Y/N? Did you... jerk hardly and pull open your incision because... you wanted to cry? What did she say to you that made you cry...?”

Of course, he knew you well enough to know what might have happened. A part of you were glad that he had figured it out because you did not have the energy or the emotional strength to relive what had happened yesterday. “I wasn’t expecting her to come down to see me. I wasn’t getting my hopes up. I mean, this is the woman who turned down the invite to my graduation. I... learned not to expect things from her after what happened that night when I left home. Because chances are I might go into the conversation with certain expectations and she would end up doing the complete opposite... every single fucking time.” You felt another sob and the pain on your side was much worse. But you could care less about finding your PCA remote and pumping meds into your body. You just wanted to pour your heart out to Steve and hope that he does not walk away from you like everyone before him.

Steve did not speak but he listened. He listened to every word you said, remaining calm and gently rubbing your back to calm you down as well. While he wanted to give you comfort, deep down he was also fuming with anger. After all, he was a father to a little girl himself. As a parent, he had always made sure that his daughter knew how much she was loved. He had made the effort to be a part of her life, even giving up a research position at Harvard because he wanted to dedicate his life to being Sarah’s father than dedicate his life to the advancement of heart surgery. He wanted to be a good father because he did not have one growing up. He may not have had a good father growing up, but he empathized with the fact that you hadn’t either. At least Steve had been lucky enough to have a wonderful mother and parental figures like George and Winnifred Barnes and knowing that you hadn’t been so lucky only made him feel worse.

“When she walked into my room, I was surprised to see her. I... I hadn’t been expecting her but... I had a little hope that maybe, just maybe, the fact that I had... come forward to save my father’s life would have... fixed things between my mother and I. I thought that maybe... she had finally had a change of heart and was there to thank me for saving the life of the man who ruined mine... I thought she would finally apologize for not being there for me... as my mother... when I needed her to. I hope things were going to get better and I was going to have my family back in my life again. But Steve, I just can’t believe how wrong I’d been about that...” You explained, feeling another sob as you leaned your head against the man’s shoulder.

He continued to stroke your hair, not saying a word and letting you pace yourself as you spoke. He wasn’t going to push you to say anything unless you wanted to, especially not in this medicated state.

“She came to tell me that... that... she claims that I’m a terrible daughter for running away from them all those years ago and that nothing would ever make her forgive me for that... and if I thought that me saving my dad would fix things... then I was wrong. Not going to lie, I was actually wrong about that but... I wasn’t wrong about running away. I had my reasons to do that, Steve.” You choked between the sobs, remembering that dreadful day. “If I can’t have a relationship with my parents then so be it. I’ve lived over two whole decades without them and I don’t need them... or their negativity. I don’t need all that crap they’ve thrown at me... things are never going to get better because they’re never going to get better. They’re not capable of being better parents now when they couldn’t even be decent parents when they had the chance.”

“Oh Y/N...” Steve sighed as he pulled back from the hug, his hand still not letting go of yours.

“She told me that... not only did my attempt to make amends with them... fail rather miserably but...” You bit back your sob, fearing that you might pull another suture like the last time. “But... it’s apparently my fault that... apparently my... attempt to make myself feel better by cutting out a piece of my liver that... that now it’s my fault that they’re left with hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills and... they can’t afford it so... they expect me to pay them off because that’s the only way they would forgive me for being a terrible daughter and running away. She asked me... for money because she knows I have it. She says it’s my fault for coming forward and costing them that much money. She... I know how poor they are, Steve. I know that after my dad lost his business, it all went to shit. My mom also lost her job a few months ago and... they can’t afford any of this. So, now she’s blaming me for putting them in a terrible financial situation. I did what I did because I knew it was a right thing to do. As a doctor, you’re always taught to do everything you can to save a life. I had what it took to save my sperm donor’s life so I did... because it’s what I swore to do when I graduated from med school. It’s what you taught me to do, Steve. I just wanted to be the better person because I thought I was capable of being better but now... I’m back where I started... back to being blamed for being a financial burden to my parents, as if nothing in my life had changed it the last twenty years.”

“Speaking of her parents, I found something about them that you might find very... suspicious.” She told him as she handed him another file. “Her mom lost her job at the hotel a few months ago and they don’t have insurance. Seeing multiple doctors in Philly, being treated for liver disease... you know the numbers, Buck. They still have outstanding medical bills in Philly. I don’t think they could afford Brooklyn Hospital or a high profile surgeon like Natasha Romanoff. I don’t think Nat’s all about doing pro-bono either. I wonder how they’re going to pay for all of this because... I’m pretty sure a liver transplant is expensive as fuck.”

Bucky’ eyes grew wide as he looked down at the stack of outstanding hospital bills that Becca had just handed him. “Holy shit... they totally knew what they were doing, didn’t they? I fucking knew it wasn’t a coincidence! I fucking knew it!” While a part him was relieved that his suspicions had been right, he was still horrified by what he and his sister had just figured out. “They tracked her down... to extort money from her, didn’t they?”

[frenchacademia]

Thank you for tagging me @medical-magpie you're the sweetest :’)

Rule: bold your traits

My personality: I'm loud. I'm obnoxious. I'm sarcastic (I have a sharp tongue and a dry sens of humor). I'm cocky. I cry easily. I have a bad temper. For the most part don't like people. I'm easy to get along with (I try to be on cordial to friendly terms with most people). I have more enemies than friends. I've smoked(tried didn't like it won't suggest). I've smoked weed. I drink coffee. I clean my room daily.

My appearance: I wear makeup. I wear jewellery (mostly necklaces, used to wear rings but they are so annoying when you have to wash your hands often and wear gloves). I wear contacts. I wear glasses. I have braces. I color my hair regularly. I straighten my hair often. I have a piercing. I have earrings (I just constantly forget about them). I have a tattoo. I have small feet.

Relationships: I'm in a relationship now. I'm single. I'm crushin (maybe this is happening but I'm not sure yet). I've missed an ex before. I'm always scared of being hurt. An ex has abused me at least once. I've been in love more than two times. I believe in love at first sight. believe lust is more important than love.

Friendships: I have a best friend. I have at least ten friends. I've gotten a phone call in the last 48 hours from a friend. I've beaten up a friend. I've been in a serious fight with a friend. I can trust at least five people with my life.

Experiences: I've been on a plane. I've been on a train. Someone close to me has died. I've taken a taxi. I've taken a city bus. I've taken a school bus. I've gone bungee jumping. I've made a speech. I've been in some sort of club. I've won an award. I've spent 24 hours on the computer straight I've been in a physical fight(look can explain if someone asks, also did martial arts for 4 years)

Music: listen to R&B. I listen to Country I listen to Pop. I listen to Techno. I listen to Rock. I'm one of those people who play songs repeatedly until i hate it. I hate the radio most of the time. I download music! buy CDs.

Television: I spend at least six hours a day watching television. I watch soap operas daily. I'm in love with Days Of Our Lives. I've seen and liked the O.C. I've seen and liked One Tree Hill. I've seen and like America's Next Top Model (I used it to turn off my brain in paces even watched Britain next top model.) I've seen and like Popular. I've seen and like 24. I've seen and liked CSI. I've seen and like Everwood.

Family Life: I get along with both of my parents. My biological parents are still together. I have at least one brother. I have at least one sister. I have at least one step brother/sister. I have at least one half brother/sister. I've been kicked out of the house. I've ran away from my home. I've sworn at my parents. I've made my parents cry. I've lied to my parents. I've lied to my parents about where I am. I've lied to my parents about what I'm doing. I've lied to my parents so I'd be allowed out. I've walked out when I've been grounded.

Hair: I've been brown. I've had streaks. I've cut my hair in the past year. I've dyed my hair in the past year. I've been blonde. I've been black. I've been red. I've been light brown. I've been medium brown. I've been blue/green. I've gotten my hair thinned. I use conditioner. I've used silk therapy. I've used hot oil treatments. I've curled my hair. I've straightened my hair. I've braided my hair. I've ironed my hair.

I've had an in-school suspension, I've been sent to the principals office (not really but to the person right below them). I've walked out of class (not sure in school but definitely in uni). I've skipped an entire day of school, I've skipped a whole month of one certain class. I've falled a test (honestly if we count prep test for paces I've lost count). I've cheated on a test (test are a dumb social thing and if given the opportunity I will do it, doesn't mean i don't study tho l do have work ethics). I've helped someone else cheat on a test (math, history and that stupid map thing in senior year). I've failed Art. Ive failed P.E. I've failed Math. I've failed Science. I've failed another class. A teacher has called my parents.

I'm tagging @influencedgenetics @thatmadprocrastinator @carmen-riddle @wordlywindss <3

[romana73]

REYLO FANFIC: YIN AND YAN. CHAPTER IV

WRITER: Romana73 TIME: One year after Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi THEME AND FANDOM: Star Wars RATING: Explicit TITLE: Yin and Yan CATEGORIES: M/F COUPLES: Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Rey CHARACTERS: Rey, Kylo Ren / Ben Solo, Anakin Skywalker (nominated), BB - 8, Knights of Ren, Chewbacca, Darth Vader (nominated), Finn, General Hux, Han Solo (nominated), Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, boys from Canto Bright, Snoke (nominated), various Resistance and First Order fighters WARNINGS: The characters, the world and the stories of Star Wars AREN’T MINE AND DON’T BELONG TO ME, but they are created and owned by George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Disney, J.J. Abrams and Rian Johnson and the actors who play the Star Wars characters and their stories. I’M NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THESE PEOPLE AND CINEMATOGRAPHIC HOUSES. I DON’T KNOW NO ONE OF THEM and I’M IN NO WAY IN CONTACT WITH THEM WARNINGS 2: violence, also at the language level. The starting idea of ​​this story derives from a leaks I read last year and which struck my imagination CHAPTER I can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189784450126/reylo-fanfiction-yin-e-yan CHAPTER II can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189959876431/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-part-2

CHAPTER III can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190301208881/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-3-part

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CHAPTER IV

- Why do you think I let myself be captured? - Kylo asked casually.

Standing in front of Rey, Kylo folded his lips in a fleeting amused smile. Rey stared at him, raising an eyebrow. -Oh well, maybe I just wanted to meet you in person ... to see you and touch you live ... I was tired of remote connections - he continued in a light tone. Rey darkened, glaring at him with a glance. Excruciating pain in head he had caused her with his constant attempts to force their connection was still alive. Kylo seemed to read her mind. He frowned, taking on a stern expression. -I warned you not to resist when things like that happen. You could have died! - He finished, thundering. Rey was startled in spite of herself, hearing his voice rumbling in room almost to shake walls. She looked around to see if boy's tone had attracted anyone, but nobody appeared. Rey turned against him, like a tiger whose foot was trodden. -You used me, betrayed me, tried to manipulate me, why on earth would I have to reopen the connection? I repeat what I said to you under torture: I won’t give you anything! - Rey growled at him. Kylo blinked in surprise, opening his mouth in amazement. His surprise lasted a blink, then his face hardened. Kylo took a slow step towards Rey. She held her breath, stiffening, but refused to let emotion leak. -I don't remember doing anything like that. I thought you were going to be on my side. You were trusting me, we were on same wavelength, instead you abandoned me! You turned against me, you attacked me like a coward! - He growled, trying to dominate her. - I turned against you? - Rey repeated, hissing and clenching her eyes and fists

- I'm not your dog!- She snapped indignantly. -I'm not even a murderess! You demanded I turn away while you massacred innocent people, my friends and even your mother! - Rey looked him in eyes, challenging him. Kylo swallowed heavily, without breaking eyes contact. - Now you're even killing children ... you suck me! - She screamed. He turned his face to one side, as if Rey had slapped him. Supreme Leader stared back at her, folding his mouth in a bitter smile. -Once again you think you know everything ... I thought I taught you to investigate thoroughly before sentencing ... - -It’s Knights of Ren who carry out murders and, if I'm not mistaken, they only obey you ... - Rey replied in a biting tone. -Um, yes ... well, let's talk later, do you want? Now we have to go - Kylo said absently, looking quickly at a black leather strap that he wore on his right wrist and Rey noticed only at that moment. She frowned. He had a bad feeling about that strange bracelet. -You are so impulsive ... you think always later ... - Kylo observed.

Rey took a step back, as the feeling of danger grew stronger. Bringing a hand behind her back, the young woman slowly drew her lightsaber, lighting it, while keeping her eyes fixed on him. Kylo absently looked at weapon Rey held in her hand. Supreme Leader smiled, taking on an air between bored and benevolent. Suddenly, handcuffs around Kylo's wrists fell to his feet, with a dull thud that made a shiver run down Rey's spine. She felt freezing, looking at Kylo's free hands. Moving fast, he kicked cuffs away from him and Rey, then, he grabbed her wrist. Rey felt as if he was squeezing her wrist and instinctively dropped lightsaber. Kylo picked up weapon, tucking it into his belt, while spinning Rey on himself, imprisoning her with one arm. Rey tried to free himself in any way. - Ah! - She screamed, feeling a pain in her arm. Kylo's grip felt like steel. -You're hurting yourself. You can't even use Force here - he advised her quietly as he looked around. Rey saw him raise one hand and draw handcuffs to him. Her eyes widened, she sensed his intentions and started fighting again. Kylo didn’t loosen his grip. Following her body movements, Supreme Leader surrounded Rey with other arm, hardly managing to block her wrists in anti-Force handcuffs. -You didn't thought I was present while Luke was building this cell. I know his tricks and, then, I can get by even without Force - Kylo whispered in Rey's ear, smiling and blocking her against him. She could feel her back press against Supreme Leader's wide chest, but she refused to linger on that fact.

-I can do better without Force, because I have lived longer than you, without even knowing I have it! - Rey replied firmly. Kylo grimaced, shrugging. -True ... - he murmured absently.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion caused wall behind them to collapse. Rey jumped, closing her eyes, while Kylo turned his face, quietly contemplating collapsed wall, while a broad and rudimentary opening was formed in its place. Sweating coldly, Rey watched a handful of Stormtroopers rush in and go up prison stairs, while a man dressed in black, wearing a helmet made from a blast furnace plate stopped beside Kylo Ren. Shivering, with a grimace of disgust, Rey noticed newcomer was carrying a huge cannon on his arm, modified almost beyond belief and concussion grenades on his chest. -Cardo - Kylo addressed him, with a dark and serious expression. - On time - - Thanks, Ren. I only carried out your orders - other replied dryly. Rey sensed change in Kylo Ren. From moment wall had collapsed, Kylo seemed to have raised another, impenetrable, wall inside him, but she had no time to think about it. Gunshots, screams and excited voices ripped Rey from his thoughts. Battle raged on floor above them. Rey's mind worked fast. Two men had talked about orders and schedules, but for two days, Kylo had been their prisoner, how he... memory of strange bracelet she had noticed on boy's wrist came back to Rey's mind. A transmitter, that's what it was, how stupid! Rey closed her eyes, blaming herself. “It isn’t your fault. I remind you, for a while, you have been out of game... " Kylo's voice reached her head loud and clear, as if he had spoken, instead he was communicating telepathically. - Did you find what you were looking for? - Cardo asked Kylo Ren - In part- he replied, nodding towards Rey. -I think it will be longer than expected. Call soldiers back, I don't want to ... - - REYYY! REY! - Finn's anxious voice interrupted Kylo’s words. The trio turned their eyes to access stairs. Rey held her breath. With wide eyes, she watched Finn fly down stairs, turning to shoot two Stormtroopers on his heels, before looking at Rey. The boy looked in pure horror at his handcuffed friend, held locked by an arm of Supreme Leader. -Leave her alone!- Finn screamed, frowning, his flashing black pupils, pointing blaster he held in his hand towards Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader remained in hush, staring calmly at ex former Stromtrooper. -Call the men. Let's go - Kylo ordered, turning his head towards Cardo.

He brought a transmitter in front of his mouth, ordering handful of soldiers to return. Kylo turned his back on Finn, starting to move towards breach in wall Cardo had previously opened, dragging Rey with him. She stumbled over her feet, but just holding her tight, Kylo prevented her from falling. -Stop! - Finn yelled again, arming his blaster - Finn! Rey! - Poe's voice came to Rey's ear.

The pilot stopped beside his friend, also drawing his weapon and pointing it at Kylo's back. Young target sighed, continuing to walk. Behind them rhythmic footsteps of the returning Stormtroopers were heard. Soldiers passed Kylo, ​​Rey and Cardo, pouring into hole in the wall. - Teacher! Teacher! - Two infant voices joined those of Finn and Poe. Rey stopped instantly. Struggling to free herself, she managed to turn to the children. -Milo, Cleena! Get out of here! Be safe! - Rey yelled, agitated.

Without letting go her, Kylo saw two children staring at him. One was small, blond, with blue eyes open and curious. Kylo narrowed his mouth feeling a big Force power, but also serenity and calm emanated from boy. He was struck by girl eyes, whom Rey had called Cleena. Force also flowed powerful in her. Biting her lower lip, girl stared at him from bottom up, with a dangerous light in her dark brown eyes. Curly and long hair of a reddish brown fell on her shoulders like a fiery mane. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, but she seemed already pervaded by a deep anger. A fury Supreme Leader recognized had only one goal. Him.

Cardo raised his cannon arm, aiming it at group in front of them. - If you want, I'll sweep them away ... - he said, turning to Kylo. -Yuo damn killer! - Rey roared, fighting against Kylo's grip in an attempt to assault Cardo. Taken by surprise, Ren's Knight stepped back, whistling with admiration towards Rey. - You captured a proud tiger ...- he observed, watching Kylo struggle to keep hold of Rey. -Rey! Get away from him! - Finn yelled, trying to aim. He gave up nervously. Kylo Ren didn’t loosen his grip on Rey, making it impossible to shoot him without hitting her. Suddenly, an idea hit Finn's mind. Rey had once explained to him Jedi healed wounds. Dark Side adepts lost, however, this ability when they succumbed to evil. So maybe ... he could hit Kylo by hurting Rey? Leia was sure to help cure her and he was a great shooter. He could hit her without causing her serious harm. Kylo turned to him, as if he had read his mind. -Really? Would you have courage to do it? I’m amazed at you, FN-2187. Do you hate me so much? - Kylo forced Rey to straighten up and, holding her against him, with his hands under his chin, placed himself with her in front of Finn, challenging him with his eyes and a malicious smile. -Come on, shoot! I'll stop your bullet before it hits us and I'll turn it against you! - Kylo urged him. Rey shook her head. -Finn, no. Please. You would die unnecessarily ... - Rey murmured, as a tear ran down her face. Finn looked his friend in eyes, while Milo, Cleena and Poe stared at him waiting for a sign would reveal their friend's intentions, causing them to act accordingly. Kylo chuckled bitterly. -You don't know what he was going to do to you ... - he whispered in Rey's ear. - Bastard! You know very well that I ... I ... - Finn growled, still pointing the blaster at Kylo. -Stop! - A sweet but firm voice shook everyone in the room, as if waking them from a dream, dissipating tension in room. Cardo also seemed impressed. His arm also lowered, without him noticing. Leia appeared in room, as the sunniest of apparitions. Rey sensed a change in Kylo. Young man swallowed empty. -Let go Rey- Leia ordered, putting her hands on Cleena's shoulders and staring her son in eyes, with a resolute expression. -You lost, General Organa. Accept defeat and my magnanimous gesture - Kylo replied becoming, if possible, even darker. -I'll let you live- he added, looking away from woman in spite of himself.

Rey watched scene silently, sweating cold, confused. At that moment, Kylo looked like a boiling volcano. That was first time mother and son met after he killed Han Solo. Rey felt like she was skewered by a thousand daggers. One more cruel and painful than other, but emotion didn’t belong to her, but to Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader seemed to be pierced by a thousand lightsabers and each hit a deep wound. Rey staggered. -Enough! - She heard herself say, as if her voice didn't belong to her. Everyone stopped, staring at her. Rey turned his head, looking up at Kylo. -Let them go and I'll come with you - Rey proposed slowly. -No, Rey! - Finn and Poe snapped in unison -Rey ... no need ... - Leia's voice and expression softened. Kylo shrugged. -Unlike what you think, I don't like blackmailing people and I don't like being made fun of ... - Kylo replied, staring in Rey’s eyes. -I'm not setting you a trap - Rey defended herself. - Okay, then... - Kylo let go of Rey.

She wobbled in surprise at act. Supreme Leader moved a hand and Rey's wrists were free of anti-Force handcuffs. -Please, let's go - Kylo moved a hand, indicating to walk in front of him. Rey felt her eyes fill with tears as she contemplated her friends for last time. -Leia ... - she whispered, bringing a hand to her chest. Woman smiled, nodding. General Organa's eyes moved to his son's face, studying him openly. Kylo returned, watching her sideways, then he bent to pick up handcuffs, while Rey passed in front of him. Kylo put a hand on girl's back, guiding her to exit. -Teacher! - Cleena shouted, moving to chase Rey.

A small, chubby hand closed around the girl's wrist, holding her back. Cleena turned around, surprised to find was Milo who blocked her. Boy looked at his friend with a smile, then turned to Leia and nodded.

———————————————————————————————————–

Rey felt empty and disoriented as she walked with her back straight and her chin up in front of Kylo, ​​wiping away every minute tears burned her eyes. Ever since they left Resistance base, young Supreme Leader hadn't spoken, standing behind her, still holding one hand on her back. Nodding, Kylo had ordered Cardo to walk in front of Rey, closing off any escape routes for her. But Rey didn’t  want to escape. They had been walking in forest for two hours and, although trained, Rey was exhausted. Multitude of emotions felt that day had exhausted her. From moment they captured Kylo, ​​she had suspected something strange, but would never have thought of ending up in trap. The line stopped. Rey saw soldiers pass them and run forward. Cardo turned to Kylo. - The Finalizer isn’t far away, with your permission Ren, I would go and prepare everything for departure ... - he announced. Kylo nodded. Cardo moved away and Rey was alone with Kylo. - If you believe I will submit to you, then you have not understood anything ... - without turning around, Rey warned Kylo with his teeth gritted. A disturbance in Force drew both attention. Rey didn't have time to focus. Coming from behind, Kylo locked her wrists again with anti-Force handcuffs, also harnessing her perception. Ignoring her bad looks and grimaces of annoyance, he lifted Rey in his arms, following last stretch separated them from his ship on foot. Not far away, two powerful shadows followed them.

[dirtyahs]

What Are We? (Tate Langdon x Reader)

HELLO IM BACK JESUS CHRIST IM SORRY IVE BEEN SO ABSENT LIFE IS KIND OF KICKING MY ASS BUT IM DOING MY BEST!! I LOVE ALL OF U FOR BEING SO KIND AND PATIENT <3

This was requested by my pal @stellaholland i luv u so much bby i hope u enjoy :,)

Word Count: 4,814

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing (sexual and nonsexual), kinda fluffy at the end! (take that lightly, i dont write fluff well lmfao)

   You stood in front of your closet, continuously searching through the clothes as if something new was going to appear. You pulled a black skater dress off of the hanger and slipped it over your head, looking in your mirror, only half satisfied with the way it looked.    "You're just trying on the same dress in different colors, it's not that hard to pick one." You jumped when you heard a voice behind you, turning around to see none other than Tate. Your family had moved into the house about seven months ago. Both your mother and father were some kind of twisted horror fanatics, so they purchased the house knowing full well you'd be the owners of "Murder House." It was strange to get adjusted to at first, it's like living with ten other people, but only sometimes. Tate made himself visible the most out of everybody.    "How long have you been sitting there? Fuckin' creep." You scoffed, sitting on the edge of your bed to put on a pair of black boots.

"Long enough." He smirked at you, standing up to walk to your desk, flicking through your notebooks.    You saw Tate most often, but frankly, he was the last person you cared to see. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and overall just kind of a douche. You'd come home from school to see him laying in your bed listening to your music. Or you'd wake up in the middle of the night to things falling off of your bookshelf, furniture moving with no one being there. It was always him though. It's like he got off on just screwing with you; so he did. Quite often. Everybody else in the house was decent. Nora was sweet, she just cried a lot. Which was fair given her situation. Chad and Patrick were both okay individually, but when they were together, they were beyond irritating. Just so incredibly passive aggressive - you couldn't imagine being stuck in a house for eternity with someone you wanted to divorce.    You stood up, smoothing out your dress before grabbing your small bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your parents had decided everyone was going to go out on a nice lunch today.    "Can you get out? I'm leaving." You pushed past him, opening your door and motioning him to walk out. 

"I can never get out, angel." He said, sounding just as conceited as ever, making his way to the door, leaning against the wooden frame. "But I guess I can leave you to your little lunch date with mommy and daddy." He teased you condescendingly. You'd done your best to not let him bother you, but he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"Thanks for being so kind, Tate." You gave him the sweetest smile you could manage, slamming your bedroom door when the two of you had exited. 

ii.    You'd finally gotten home a few hours later. Your parents were very good at starting conversation with every server you'd ever had. They get talking, and then the server gets talking and it seems to last forever. They do always get some kind of discount or something free for being kind though. Your mom had been a server for a decent part of her life, so she was always extra nice to them.        Telling them you had homework to work on, you made your way upstairs to your room, hearing music coming from behind the door. Just as you suspected, Tate was sprawled out on your bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. You sighed and walked over to your bed, smacking Tate's side.

   "Can you get the fuck out? I have homework to do." You hissed. You definitely weren't going to do homework though. You'd probably end up reading, or watching YouTube or something - but Tate didn't need to know that part. His eyes opened slowly, and you felt like you couldn't look away. He looked angelic (ironically.) His blond curls spread messily around his head, face peaceful, and most importantly, he wasn't talking, which made him look amazing. Without a word, he moved over to one side of the bed, making room for you on the other.

    "Tate, I mean it, get out. I've got shit to do." You tried to sound strong - however, you weren't very threatening.

"Whatever you've got to do, just do it quietly." He mumbled, eyes closing once again. Looks like you weren't going to be getting him out of your room. With that, you grabbed the book you've been reading and took a seat at your desk chair, kicking your boots off and putting your feet up on the desk. Your dress fell just a bit to reveal part of your upper thigh. Within minutes, you heard quiet snoring coming from the boy in your bed, blankets pulled up to his chin now. How he managed to make himself so comfortable in your room remained a mystery. It was his room first, technically though. You looked up from your book to see him snuggled tightly under the dark purple duvet, lips parted just slightly. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of him - he looked so  peaceful and quite beautiful honestly.     No - what the fuck are you thinking? You thought to yourself. You don't like Tate - you haven't since the day you moved into this house. He was rude and condescending and way too overly confident. He might be nice to look at, but that's all he had going for him. You had to shut those thoughts down immediately. You shook your head and picked your book up again, returning to the chapter you were reading. iii.    "Why are you going to school? Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?" Tate teased, leaning against your door frame, blocking you from leaving. He'd been there since you woke up, but he wasn't going to tell you that part. He'd watched you strip out of your pajamas and slide into your hip hugging denim jeans. He enjoyed seeing you - there was something so erotic to him about just watching you go about your normal routine. Not only was it erotic for him, he just liked to watch you. He was fascinated with the way you'd wing your eyeliner, or paint your lips your favorite pink nude. He liked seeing the way you'd quietly sing to yourself in the morning. Most people that moved into that house were terrified of him and everyone else there. You and your family were so different for him. Tate hadn't felt accepted probably ever in his life. Being accepted, and even admired was such a new feeling for him.     

"No, Tate I wouldn't. I need to go to class today." You huffed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and crossing your arms. He had that stupid smirk stuck to his face. Today, it was hard to tell him no. He did this every few days, and you always pushed past him without a second thought. Today, you kind of wanted to stay home with him. But you couldn't. You'd always done well in school, and it was something you took pride in. So you did what you always did and pushed past him, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you walk away. 

"Your ass looks cute in those jeans!" He called, blowing you a kiss oh-so sweetly. Your heart jumped a bit with his words.    You sat in the cold blue plastic chair, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your English professor babbled on about the assigned reading. The assigned reading that Tate wouldn't let you finish. You were sat in your bed, legs crossed at your ankle trying to finish the chapter. You looked up to see none other than your blond haired nuisance. He was wearing torn up black jeans and Doc Martens. You had the same pair. He crawled over the iron swirls of your bed frame, and laid next to you - uninvited. He tried to talk to you about whatever he could - about your book, about your boots, about himself, about how good he thought you looked in a denim mini skirt. His flirting was always sarcastic. At least it seemed that way. No matter how sarcastic he was though, somehow his words always made your heart flutter. No matter how much you tried to suppress it.    "(Y/N)? Can you tell me what happened to our main character in chapter 7?" Your teacher had her arms crossed over her chest, pulling you from your little fantasy - you just zoned out in class thinking about Tate fucking Langdon? Really?   

"I-well Mrs. Sanchez..." You stammered, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, cheeks turned an almost electric red. How the hell did you get so carried off thinking about a boy you thought you couldn't stand? 

 "Please pay attention, all of this is important." She said, clearly unhappy with you. You were one of her favorite students, but she had almost ridiculously high expectations of you. Oh well, you thought, she'd forget about it tomorrow.    You closed your front door behind you. It was about 3 o'clock. Your mom and dad would be at work for another couple of hours. But you were sure you'd walk upstairs to find Tate curled up in your bed for his afternoon nap, just like you found him there every day. He was a bit predictable sometimes. You trudged up the stairs, desperately needing some alone time. You'd found yourself day dreaming about Tate more than once. You'd see something that reminded you of him, and you'd feel your heart jump in your chest. You'd thought about the little freckle on his nose, and the way he'd touch all his fingers to his thumb when he got a little nervous. You'd thought about the one time you walked into the bathroom to see him shirtless standing looking in the mirror. His jeans were unbuttoned and hung low on his hips. His muscular shoulders stiffened a bit when he saw your reflection.

"I-I..." You stuttered, unable to look away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." Your cheeks were beet red, voice audibly shaking.     "That's okay," He turned around and took a few steps towards you. "You can walk in on me like this whenever you want. It seems like you're liking what you see." He growled, his hand moved to rest against wall next to your head.    You sighed and threw your bag to the floor, kicking your shoes off quickly. That memory ignited something in you and you couldn't deny the wetness forming between your thighs. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, crawling into your bed. You hooked your phone up to your speaker, playing your "Steamyyyyy" playlist, as if you'd ever been with more than one person before. You ran one finger down your chest, to your stomach, finally reaching your black panties, one finger rubbing light circles over your clothed clit. You let out a throaty sigh, gradually picking up speed. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back onto the black silk of your pillow case. You pushed the fabric to the side, your fingertip finally making skin to skin contact with the little bundle of nerves held between your soaking folds. Your lips remained parted, letting out desperate little whimpers every few seconds. Your free hand gripped at the sheets as your finger worked faster, whimpers eventually turning into loud moans. You hadn't been alone to do this in so long - honestly, you'd forgotten what it felt like. As alone as you felt, you logically knew you were never alone in this house. Tate was sat in your desk chair, a distinct protrusion pressing against his light wash jeans. His jaw hung open as he watched you, in shock over how beautiful you looked.Your mind was running with thoughts of none other than him; you thought about his fingers working you like this, his large hands caressing your skin, his full lips pressing kisses into your neck.     

"Tate..." You gasped, fully immersed in your fantasy, feeling that familiar tighten in your tummy, your fingers moved harder almost instinctively. Tate sat there, quiet. You'd finally rendered him speechless. His name fell from your lips several more times. His hand clapped over his mouth to hide his whimpers as you made his cock twitch against his boxers. Truthfully, he'd fantasized about you more times than he cared to admit. Seeing you like this was just a happy accident. He'd walked into your room with the intention to scare you, throw some stuff off of your shelves to mess with your head. But he stopped outside the door, hearing muffled moans. He opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he saw what you were doing.     Suddenly, the coil inside of you snapped and your legs started shaking. Your jaw hung agape, nails digging into the soft fabric beneath you.     

"Oh- fuck! Tate..." You hissed loudly, guaranteed that someone, somewhere in the house heard you. But, it was just Tate. He now stood at the end of your bed, watching as you soaked your fingers, his hand gently palming himself through his jeans. Once you'd finally ridden out your orgasm, you pulled your fingers from their spot between your legs, sighing deeply, satisfied. Your eyes finally opened and you looked around - still no one. Part of you was surprised Tate wasn't there to make fun of you. It was in that moment that you realized how loudly you'd been saying his name. You literally gotten off to him. He'd invaded your thoughts throughout the day and now he was doing it again in your only alone time. God dammit. You sighed and leaned up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. You couldn't keep playing this game with him - you needed to ask him what the hell his goal was. You needed to see what he felt for you. 

   You stood up and slid back into your jeans from earlier, making your way to your bathroom down the hall. The closer you got, you could hear a voice coming from inside. Your hand met the coolness of the door knob, but you stopped, feeling your knees weaken when you realized what you were hearing. From the other side of the door came strained grunts. Your heart was racing but you couldn't pull away. You pressed your ear against the door, the voice getting louder and louder. 

"(Y/N)," the voice hissed - your suspicions were confirmed, it was Tate. "I-I'm gonna' cum..." He hissed, letting out a loud, relieved moan. Your mind was racing, desperate to see what he looked like in that moment. Moments later, you heard the zipper of his jeans and quicker than you meant to, you began your little run down the hall and down the stairs, no doubt he heard your foot falls. Your heart was going to jump out of your throat, you were sure of it. It was your own fault for thinking you'd ever have any kind of alone time in this house. Tate never left you alone - he saw you. He had to. There was no way that was a coincidence. You opened he fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to occupy yourself. You jumped when you saw two hands on either side of your head, making contact with the fridge. Speak of the devil.

   "Tate! You-you scared me." Whether he saw you or not, it was clear that something had you frazzled.    

"Can we talk?" His voice sounded deep, gravelly, almost like when he'd just woken up. You finally turned around and looked up at him. His hair was a bit messy, cheeks tinted a pale pink.    

"Yeah, about what?" Your voice shook with your words, hands clasped tightly in front of you. You looked up at him as he pushed his body closer to yours.    

"No need to act like you don't know what you heard." He growled, chest pressed tightly to yours. "And I'm not going to act like I didn't see you soaking your sheets thinking about me."

His dark eyes looked bright. He got some kind of thrill out of embarrassing you. You opened your mouth to say something sarcastic back, but no sound came out. Tate being this close to you was making your heart race, you didn't have the overwhelming urge to shove him away like you normally would.   

"I think," He whispered, lips ghosting yours, "You like when I tease you." He smirked, one hand moving down your side to your hip. "Why don't you tell me what you were thinking about, hm baby girl?" His lips brushing yours forced an unintentional moan from your throat, cheeks flushing almost instantly.    "I-Tate..." You were mesmerized. He had you in the palm of his hand and it excited him. "I wasn't thinking about you." You tried to lie, realizing just how dumb you sounded after the words came out.     

"Oh Tate," He raised his tone to mock you, "Fuck me, Tate." He chuckled down at you. "Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, I know you heard me saying your name just like that too." He gave your hip a firm squeeze. 

"After what, nine months in this house, I think it's time you live your fantasies." 

He held you tightly in his hands, spinning you two around so you were pressed against the edge of the counter top. You had nothing to say. Honestly, you were unbelievably excited. You'd thought about his hands touching your skin, his lips on yours, you've wanted this longer than you cared to admit. Your hand came up to hold one side of his face, taking a fistful of his hair and kissing him - hard. His lips worked against yours perfectly, feeling as if they were made to fit together. He got rougher, not hesitating to take control of you. He pushed you firmly against the cool marble behind your back, lips moving from yours down your jaw and to the soft skin on your neck. His kisses started gentle, but quickly got aggressive, nipping at the skin, leaving purple marks in his wake.

You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, feeling him smirk against your skin before he pulled back to tug the gray fabric over his head, showing you his slightly toned torso. Your heart rate picked up once again as you looked him up and down. 

   "Your turn, angel." He cooed softly, watching as you followed his actions, tossing your tank top to the side. He smirked at you, using both hands to grope at your exposed chest, pressing possessive kisses to your chest.    

"I've always loved it when you don't wear a bra." He teased you, his playful, mocking tone returning.

"It's much more obvious than you think." He smirked and tweaked one nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, making you whimper from the slightly satisfying jolt of pain. You leaned your head back, allowing your eyes to shut as his tongue replaced his fingers, flicking over your nipple. Your lips were parted, letting out quiet gasps of pleasure. His now free hands moved down your sides and to your jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and sliding them down your thighs. You kicked them aimlessly to the forming pile of clothes on he floor.

His kisses started moving south, trailing them down your breasts, to your stomach, to your hips, finally reaching the thin cotton fabric that was now soaked between your legs. One of his hands came up to lift your leg over his shoulder, his lips pushing a few light kisses against your clothed pussy. You whimpered, desperate for him. You'd never admitted it to yourself, but Tate has always a central theme in your fantasies. He'd force his way into your thoughts without you even realizing it, and after you were done, you'd push it away and pretend like you'd thought about someone else. You didn't want to be attracted to someone as annoying and immature as Tate, but now he had his head between your thighs and you had no intention of stopping it.

   He'd pushed the thin fabric aside, flicking his tongue against your clit just once, to make you moan out in pleasure.         

"Stop teasing me, dick head." You half whimpered, half challenged him. You did want him, so badly, but you couldn't let him see just how wrapped around his finger you really were. With your words he roughly pulled your hips forward, forcing a harsh smack to your ass.    

"I like you much more when you're just moaning my name." He growled, but he listened to you. His lips attached to your clit and he began sucking lightly, not hesitating to push two fingers into your wet heat, making you squeal in pleasure. It'd been a long time since someone else's fingers had penetrated you, and somehow Tate was fucking amazing at it. He curled his fingers perfectly in rhythm with the way his mouth worked your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter top, knees growing weak. You felt that tight heat rising in your tummy, his fingers and tongue getting you so close to release, much quicker than you ever did by yourself.     

"Tate- I'm gonna-" He stood up, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, keeping your leg slung over his shoulder.    

"You're cumming on my cock." He growled dominantly, his eyes looking dark and almost feral. He kicked his jeans and boxers to the side, completing the pile of your clothes. You couldn't help but watch as he stroked his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance, pushing into you painfully slowly. You looked up at him, taking in his features. His jaw hung open a bit, blond curls hanging in his eyes. He looked as perfect as someone possibly could. Once he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up, beginning to thrust into you, starting slow and picking up gradually. 

   "Fuck-" He hissed through gritted teeth, "You're so fucking tight." His hands rested on the counter on either side of your hips, fingertips turning white from how hard he pressed into the surface. He kept up a steady pace for awhile before you felt his hips stutter - he was close. He brought one hand up and began rubbing fast circles over your clit, making your legs tremble around him.    

"Cum with me, angel." He growled, fingers picking up their pace, your lips barely brushing his as you felt that tightness return. Your jaw hung open now as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You watched his fingers and hips work in time against you, when all of a sudden you felt him release, covering your walls with his hot cum, forcing the coil in your tummy to snap. You came with him, nails digging into his shoulder, knees feeling weak before it was even over. You watched his face relax once he was finished, chest rising and falling quickly. He looked up at you through his hair, flashing a faint smile. He pulled out of you slowly, pressing a loving kiss into your cheek before bending down to dig through the pile of clothes to find his boxers. He slipped them over his legs, followed by his jeans, but you stayed in your spot on the counter.    "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He looked at you, jeans resting low on his hips.    "You get on my fucking nerves more than anything, and somehow you managed to have me up on this counter for you." You shook your head, blatantly in shock from what just happened. You didn't want it to end though. There was something about seeing Tate so vulnerable, yet so confident that just left you wanting more. He smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging.    "Neither of us are complaining." He smirked, tossing you your shirt and helping you down from the counter. You pulled your tank top on, opening your mouth to respond when you heard the key turn in the door - your parents were home.    "This isn't over, Langdon." You hissed, grabbing your clothes before rushing up the stairs, accidentally slamming your door much harder than you intended.    A few weeks had passed since your encounter with Tate, and there had been a repeat of those events every few days. You two started to pick up on what the other one liked. Like how you enjoyed having your hair pulled and Tate enjoyed when you'd kiss his neck. He liked having you in control. For someone as confident and douchey he was, he liked having you dirty talking him, being the more dominant one occasionally. And god damn, that boy was always in the mood. You'd feel his hands on your hips when you'd brush your teeth in the morning, or when you were getting ready for bed, he'd kiss down your shoulders the way he knew you loved. But you didn't mind. If he wanted it, you were happy to drop what you were doing and sleep with him. It was a fun little arrangement.    It was late, probably around 2 A.M., Tate was laid next to you, a blanket covering him from the waist down, his arms behind his head. You looked over at him, feeling your heart race a little faster. The more time you spent with Tate, the more you grew to appreciate him. He was funny, and charismatic. He'd make you giggle but then have you bent over your bed in the same minute. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of him when you slept alone in your bed. He was always warm.    You pulled the blanket tighter around your chest as you leaned up on one elbow, looking over at his sleepy face.        "Tate can I ask you something? It's kind of dumb, but I just need to know." You felt nervous all of a sudden. You weren't even exactly sure what you wanted with him. Could you be in a relationship with someone who died in the 90's? Was that even what he wanted? What if he just wanted to be fuck buddies? Is that okay with you? Your brain was jumbled with all these thoughts, interrupted when he looked over at you, skin almost glowing in the dim light.    "What's up?" He looked up at you, his finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. You took a deep breath and visibly shifted, clearly uncomfortable.    "What are we?" You blurted out, cheeks going red immediately. "Because we- we fuck a lot. You're in my room a lot. You never let me be alone, and I just don't want to say something weird, or continue being in the dark I guess." Your voice trailed off before you collapsed down onto your back again, suddenly unable to look at him. He looked over at you though, you couldn't meet his eyes.    "What do you want to be?"    "No, don't put this on me. Answer my question."    He sighed, and you finally looked over at hi,.    "(Y/N)," He started, looking over your chest before looking back into your eyes. "Honestly, this started as sex." Your heart dropped. "But you're right, we have spent a lot of time together. I like being in here with you, regardless of what we're doing." He moved to cup one side of your face.    "I don't want to tie you down, ever. I can't leave this house, and I don't want you to be stuck here with me." You opened your mouth to cut him off, tell him that you were willing to be here with him, for however long he wanted, but he cut you off, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.    "How about this - you and me continue what we're doing here. We can be boyfriend and girlfriend here, but I won't be mad if you find someone else, out there." His words almost brought tears to your eyes. You hadn't felt cared for like this in so long, and to be here, this vulnerable and intimate made your eyes well up.    "Please just agree. If I could leave this house, I'd ask you to be mine right now, and I'd parade you around for everybody to see. But I can't do that, so we keep doing what we're doing, and see how things progress naturally." He flashed you a close mouthed smile, but it felt genuine nonetheless. One tear fell down your cheek, and you returned his smile.    "That sounds perfect to me. Boyfriend and girlfriend, kind of." You grinned before he pulled you into a kiss, hands wrapping around you to keep you in his arms - and you'd stay there as long as he wanted you to.

[mamabearcat]

All Fired Up - Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Lucy leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together and stretching her arms above her head.  The faint glow from her laptop was the only light in her bedroom and she was surprised to see how dark it was. Looking at the time in the bottom right corner of her screen she internally groaned - 1.34am. So much for getting an early night. She’d just been so in the zone!

 It was around 8pm when she’d got home from work and sat down at her desk with a cup of coffee; that coffee was now stone cold, the black liquid looking distinctly unappetising. Lucy rubbed her eyes tiredly. Working during the day as an investigative reporter for the Magnolia Times and writing her novel at night was exhausting, but she couldn’t think of any other way around it. She wanted to be a writer full-time, but until she’d sold a couple of manuscripts and made a name for herself, she had to work too. Good thing she had no friends or social life, she joked internally, she really didn’t have time for them.

 She sighed, and picked up the coffee cup, padding off towards her tiny kitchen, stopping on the way to see if Plue was asleep. She walked over to the dog basket tucked behind the sofa, bending down to stroke his furry white puppy ears as he dozed. “Sorry boy”, she whispered, “looks like we missed dinner again.”

 She reached for the jar of dog biscuits and filled his bowl, refreshing his water too. He’d eat when he woke up, she was sure. Now that she thought about it, she was kinda hungry too. Lunch was a long time ago. She tipped the now cold coffee down the sink, leaving the cup to be washed later, and poked her head into her fridge to see if she had anything that she could heat up and eat quickly before heading off to bed. Yes! Leftover Kung Pao chicken from last night! She shoved it into the microwave and went to get changed into cotton sleep shorts and a singlet, her stomach rumbling in anticipation of the ‘ding’ that would announce that her dinner was ready.

 She was just about to take the chicken out of the microwave when she sniffed, noticing a rank smell in her small kitchen. With a small stab of guilt she realised she hadn’t taken out the rubbish for a few days, so with a long-suffering sigh she pulled the plastic bag out of the kitchen bin and knotted it. She’d just take it to the garbage chute at the end of the hall and then she could sit on the sofa guilt free and eat her late dinner before heading off to bed.

 Sliding on her flip flops and pocketing her door key, Lucy pulled her door shut behind her and walked to the end of the hallway, opening the metal chute and dropping the plastic bag down. She yawned, wondering if she could call in sick tomorrow, but she knew Jason wouldn’t buy it. Bills had to be paid, and it wasn’t like she disliked her job.

 Take those arson cases she was investigating at the moment. She shivered a little. They were kinda disturbing – all the fires had started late at night in apartment blocks while the occupants were asleep. All had been young single women, and all had escaped so far thanks to their fire alarms, except for the last one, who was still in intensive care with extensive burns. It was the sort of thing that could creep a girl out, if you let it.  

 A prickling feeling on the back of her neck had her shivering. What was it Mama used to say? ‘Someone walked over my grave…’ Not a comforting thought when you were standing in an empty hallway late at night. She shivered again. Definitely time to go back to her apartment and lock the door.

 She dug her key out of her pocket to open the door, but it was already ajar. Hadn’t she locked it? She was sure she’d pulled it shut behind her, but maybe she was more tired than she’d thought. She pushed open the door and locked it behind her, walking over to her small table near the kitchen to drop her keys in the bowl filled with coins. As she turned back to retrieve her chicken from the microwave, a movement caught her eye.  

 Lucy froze. Her brain worked frantically, screaming at her to run. She’d just seen a shadow in her bedroom, a human sized shadow. She started moving towards the doorway slowly, trying not to make a noise, but it was too late. A man appeared, blocking her exit.

 She tried to remember details that she could pass on to the police later. He was taller than her, maybe a whole head taller. Spiky blond hair. Tattoos like a leopard print around his yellow eyes. Teeth filed to a point. Not like it would be hard to pick him up out of a line up. But she had to get out first.

 “I’ve already called the police”, she said firmly, hoping her bluff would cause him to run and leave her alone.

 The man grinned at her, tilting his head to one side as he gazed at her. “You’re pretty”, he rasped, stepping towards her. “It’s a shame you broke the rules. No one gets to see me. It’s a pity I’ll have to kill you now.” He started towards her, and she backed away, trying desperately to think of a way to get past him to the door, but coming up with nothing. Her apartment was on the seventh floor, it was too high to jump off her balcony, and the fire escape was near the bedroom window.

 A crackling noise came from her bedroom, hard to place for a moment when she was so frightened, but then the flickering light helped her work it out. Fire. He’d started a fire in her room. She would just have to try to run past him. There was no other way. Picking up the lamp, she yanked the cord out of the socket and flung it at him, hoping to sprint past him as he ducked, but he was too fast. A heavy torch swung into the side of her head. Fireworks popped behind her eyes as pain lanced through her skull. Her vision blurred as she fell to the floor near the bedroom door.

 “Sorry girlie. Nothin’ personal”, he grunted. Lucy rolled to her side, struggling to keep from falling unconscious, pushing feebly with her hands to back away from him. He raised the heavy torch again, but before it fell, a white streak shot out from behind the sofa, latching onto the man’s hand. He dropped the torch, blood dripping from the deep bite in his wrist. He snarled, aiming a heavy boot at the small white dog, who dodged, growling and yapping.

 Choking black smoke was filling the room, and sirens sounded in the distance. Lucy struggled to focus. Where was he? Was he gone? She could hear Plue barking, but she couldn’t see. The room was dark with smoke, and she coughed, blood trickling as her head pounded in time with her heart. It was so hot. She needed to get out of the apartment, away from the flames. Her legs hurt. She rolled and tried to drag herself on her forearms towards the front door. The carpet was burning. Plue was still barking. She couldn’t breathe. Was she almost at the door? Her arm reached out, stretching, and then everything went dark.

 Lucy opened her eyes. Erza’s face was grim, but she nodded her thanks. Natsu’s jaw was clenched.

 “Fuck Lucy, I think I need a hug after listening to that”, he growled. Lucy made a weird hiccupping noise, halfway between a laugh and a sob. Natsu poured her a glass of water from the jug on the bedside table and handed it to her. She took it gratefully, drinking it in small sips.

 ‘Do you have anything to add Natsu?” asked Erza.

 “Not really”, said Natsu gruffly, his concerned gaze focused on Lucy. “By the time we arrived on the job, the blaze was well away. Gray and I were on a rescue sweep before the fire crew moved in. I heard a dog barking; the door to the apartment was already ajar. It was too dark to see anything, so I went in low. I found Lucy maybe ten feet away from the entrance, towards the western side of the apartment. She was unconscious when I carried her out. Plue wasn’t. She struggled a little as I moved her down the stairs; I thought she was just disorientated due to smoke inhalation at the time, because she said, ‘You’re not him.’ Makes sense now though.”

 Natsu reached out to scratch Plue’s ears, smiling as Plue whined in delight. “Good boy Plue. You did save Lucy twice, a true ninja pup if ever I saw one.” Lucy giggled tiredly, and Natsu reached up to take the glass from her as she leaned back on the pillows. “Lucy regained consciousness as I did a handover to Wendy and Romeo. She mentioned someone hitting her and setting the fire, so I called Gray to pass on a message to Chief Makarov to get in contact with you about possible arson. That’s it.”

 “Alright, I think I have everything I need for the moment. I’ll be in contact again Ms Heartfilia.” Erza placed the recorder in her bag and stood. Natsu stood also.

 “Erza, can I speak to you for a moment?” said Natsu quietly. They moved towards the doorway as Lucy closed her eyes.

 She was suddenly very very tired. Her arms and legs throbbed, her head ached, and her throat felt raspy, like she’d swallowed razor blades. She turned her head as Natsu sat down again. He looked serious. “Lucy, I don’t want to worry you, but I’ve asked Erza to arrange a police guard on your room until they catch this guy. I’m not leavin’ until they get here.”

 Lucy swallowed. She should probably be more frightened, but now she just felt exhausted. “Okay.”

 The nurse bustled in. “Time for your pain medication Lucy.”

 “Oh, good.” She felt a sting in her arm as the nurse injected the medication into the IV line in her elbow and lay quietly as the nurse completed her obs again and wrote them on her chart. By the time the nurse had finished she was feeling decidedly woozy.

 “Hey Natshu”, she slurred, beckoning him a little closer. He grinned at her unfocused expression, picking a sleeping Plue up off her lap and placing him on his own.

 “What’s up Luce?”

 “You know the worsht thing? The absolute worsht? About thish whole fire?” Natsu shook his head, still grinning.

 Lucy’s eyebrows lowered. “I was really looking forward to eating that chicken. I love Kung Pao chicken. And it was wasted.” Her bottom lip stuck out as she pouted, her eyes blinking sleepily.

 Natsu chuckled, his green eyes twinkling. “Okay Luce, I’ll do you a deal. You hurry up and get better, and as soon as you’re up to it, I’ll take you out for Kung Pao chicken. All you can eat.”

 “Yay.” Lucy tried to raise her arms, but they were too heavy. All of her was too heavy. “It’s a date. Kung pao date.” Her eyes drifted closed.

 She felt a soft squeeze of her hand and she squeezed back. “G’night Natshu.”

 She heard another chuckle. “Sweet dreams Luce.”

Edited to add linky dink to Part 5

[keeroo92]

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch1

Summary: You were an ordinary nurse, working your way towards balance when the Qlipoth appeared. That all changed when a dark-haired stranger intervened and saved your ass. He and his outlandish companions sparked your curiosity and as the days passed you formed an unbreakable bond with them all. But what happens when your newfound family faces their fate?

(My first fic, a shameless rewrite of the events of DMC5 featuring V x Reader. Angst, fluff, romance and a passable attempt at slow burn. Multiple endings and sequel in progress. I am currently rewriting it chapter by chapter, but the total word count should hover around 150k. Enjoy!)

Ch1: An Introduction to Demons

---Reader---

May 16th, 8:13 pm

Your gloved hands desperately pressed against your patient’s split flesh, his blood oozing between your fingers as your colleagues prepared the surgery room. The poor man was awake, terrified tears streaking his face as he stared into your eyes, praying you’d save him.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be okay, we’re going to take care of you,” you told him, forcing your agonized mind to project calmness and reassurance in your tone. It seemed to work; his eyes blinked and the fearful furrow of his brows eased slightly.

 Come on, is that room ready yet? He doesn’t have much time left after losing this much blood.

The linoleum floor beneath your feet, normally stark white and freshly bleached, was covered in blood. Your feet were only able to stay stable due to your mandatory anti-slip shoes. The red puddle had been growing for ten minutes as you urgently held this man’s life in your trembling hands. Most nights weren’t like this, most nights the worst you had to deal with was an idiot who hadn’t been paying attention and had touched a hot stove, or maybe if things got really crazy someone would come in with a broken bone.

Rarely did you hold someone’s life in your hands. It never got easier, or less stressful.

The man’s eyes fluttered closed; his head lolled back on the gurney and your heart jumped, knowing how important it was to stay conscious at that point.

“Sir, no, you have to stay awake! Come on, wake up!” your petrified voice uttered, the sound almost foreign to your ears. He didn’t stir, and your panicked thoughts dropped into cold realization as the steady drip of his blood on the floor slowed.

 He’s not going to make it. Goddamnit!

“Someone get me some O negative, now!” you screamed desperately. One of your fellow nurses dashed over with a bag, the fluid red and angry looking as she rushed to get an IV prepared. She checked the man’s pulse, searching for a vein to tap. Her eyes met yours in a shared moment of sadness as the look on her face told you everything you needed to know.

The man beneath your hands was dead.

You pulled your shaking hands away from the gash in his chest, caused by a car crash on the nearby interstate, a chunk of metal having sliced deep into his right pectoral. Your eyes filled with tears at your failure as you unsteadily walked to a nearby hazardous waste bin to strip your bloody gloves off.

There was no other urgent need for you so you stepped away to take a moment to breathe, coming to terms with your inability to save the man you had assured would be alright. You sat on the curb outside as your tears fell, chest heaving in a silent sob.

 It’s never enough, I’m never good enough… I need to get better, get faster, stronger… Have to save the next one like him.

After a long moment whose length you couldn’t tell, you heard a siren approaching. Another ambulance, racing in with another person who needed help. You stood, shoving your pain away to focus on the now, on the next patient whom you might actually have been able to help.

__________________________________

The rest of your shift passed with little incident; blessedly no other patients died that night. You stripped off your soiled scrubs in the locker room, ruminating once more on all your failures. The faces of every single patient you’d been unable to save passed through your mind and you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to never forget a single one. Your heart clenched as the man from mere hours before passed in your mind’s eye, his face frozen in a look of strange peace. Reassured by your words that had turned out to be a lie.

“Y/N, you okay?” a voice beside you asked gently. You turned to face the speaker, another nurse coming off shift. You couldn’t recall her name, never having bothered to learn it. Her perky blond ponytail swung as she tilted her head to look at you, blue eyes showing her concern as you clenched your jaw angrily.

“I’m fine,” you ground out finally, and she frowned more deeply at your not fine tone.

“You did everything you could for him, you know. You can’t save everyone and you can’t blame yourself or it’ll destroy you,” she murmured quietly.

Her words triggered your mind to remind you painfully of the very first person you had failed, the image of her corpse still so clear in your memory. You gulped nervously, trying to subdue the dark thoughts as you responded to your colleague.

“I know… but I should’ve been able to save him,” you whispered brokenly. The young woman bit her lip as you struggled to hold back your tears, but as the first sniffles broke through she wrapped you in a hug.

 Caitlyn, that’s her name… Caitlyn.

You hesitantly returned her comforting hug, accepting it for the slim reassurance it could provide. Your breath came out in gasps as you withheld the worst of your pain, not knowing enough about Caitlyn to trust her with your past. Even as the thought formed in your mind, you caught a whiff of her shampoo as her ponytail swung past your dripping nose.

 Cinnamon. Just like Lara.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the painful memories rushed through you. Over the years, you’d gotten skilled at subduing them whenever something brought it back to the surface, and you used all your will power to shove it back down into the hole you kept it buried in. Even so, your heart ached at the reminder, making sure you never forgot that day. You pulled away from Caitlyn, arranging your features to show her a teary smile.

“You gonna get home okay?” she asked you kindly. “I can give you a ride if you need it.”

You nodded your head, a rueful glint entering your eyes as you looked at her.

“I live two blocks away. I’ll be all right. Thank you, Caitlyn,” you answered, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. You couldn’t help but hope she’d leave you alone now, and to your relief she turned away to leave with a final worried glance.

The walk home was usually a time of quiet reflection for you, a chance to review all you’d done in the hours at the ER and to tally the lives saved against the lives lost, the scales never tipping to the side of life enough for your satisfaction. That night, you couldn’t remember a single person you helped over the last few hours, the guilt over the single death too heavy to bear.

 If only I’d gotten him a transfusion from the start. If only the surgery room had been ready. If only, if only, if only…

You sighed to yourself as you looked forward to the bottle of whiskey waiting for you in your tiny apartment; knowing you had the next day off, you planned to drink until you couldn’t think anymore. A tradition whenever someone died in your arms, something to indulge in to avoid the solitude of your lonely apartment, where not even a goldfish waited for your return.

The familiar wooden sign greeted you from over the doorway as you reached home, its cheerful yellow paint welcoming friends inside. You liked to pretend you’d someday actually invite someone over, but in the five years you’d lived in Red Grave City, you hadn’t allowed a single person to enter your heart, let alone your home.

 Too easy to get hurt or to hurt someone. Better to be alone.

The cheap door creaked open and you quickly closed it behind you, alone at last. The keys went in the small bowl on the side table in the entrance, coat on the hook. Shoes kicked off to the corner. With a soft click, you turned on the lights of your small retreat.

You shuffled your way into the living room, the whiskey waiting for you on the coffee table as you plopped into the cushions of your hideous orange couch. You didn’t bother with a glass, taking a sip straight from the glass bottle as you flicked on the television. You took another long gulp as you looked for something to watch, eventually settling on an over the top romantic comedy.

You kept drinking and the terrible movie became funnier with each tingly swallow. By the time the film was over, you were buzzed enough to be satisfied. Another movie began and you pulled your throw blanket over you as you settled in to watch, letting the fantasy take you away from your own problems.

__________________________________

 “…live from downtown, still unclear what exactly I’m looking at but it appears to be some kind of structure, Lisa.”

 Deet deet deet deedle! Deet deet deet deedle!

The standard ringtone of your cell phone felt alarmingly loud as you slowly cleared the fog from your mind. You barely glanced at the TV screen as you groggily fumbled for the small device, hitting the green “accept” button and holding it up to your drool-covered cheek.

“Hello…?” you mumbled.

 “Oh, thank god! Honey, where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

You sat up with a grimace at the panic in your mother’s voice, her shrill tone a far cry from her normally calm demeanor.

“Mom? What’re you talking about?” you replied quizzically.

 “The tower! It’s all over the news!!”

The confusion swirling in your mind shifted to fear as you saw the screen at last, the reporter standing before a massive grey structure in an area you easily recognized as only a few blocks away.

 “…started only a few shorts hours ago. Officials are urging residents to stay indoors until they can assess the threat, but many locals have come to see the tower for themselves. Some religious groups are already flooding the area, claiming this to be a sign from God. All I can say for sure, Lisa, is that this thing is now the tallest point within three miles…”

The reporter continued talking, but you weren’t paying any attention anymore as you took in what he was talking about – the enormous grey tower that stood behind him in the shot, dominating the screen and dwarfing the mass of people crowded by its base.

 What… the… fuck…?

Chaos erupted on the screen a moment later as something punched a hole through the tower, what looked like a man and a huge beast jumping down from the new opening milliseconds later. They were too far from the camera for you to see them clearly, only dim outlines in the background of the crappy TV you’d had since college.

 “Did you see that?! What is going on? Honey, you need to leave before the roads get too crowded! It isn’t safe there!”

The reporter on the screen was clearly as baffled as you were, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening comically as he struggled to find words to describe the scenario. He kept glancing back to the structure as he tried to do his job, but before he had the chance to speak again, everything changed.

Something had clearly gone wrong with the camera person; the view shifted to one from the ground as if the camera had been dropped. You could hear screams and watched in bewilderment as a tendril burst from the ground, its tip a gleaming point of sharp thorns. The image of that cruel spike streaking forward to embed itself in the reporter’s stomach dissolved the last of your remaining buzz, sobriety hitting you like a brick wall as his wails of terror echoed from your TV.

 “Oh, god… Y/N, get out of there now! RUN!”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you when it’s safe. I love you mom!” you answered hurriedly, already rushing toward the door. You stuffed your feet back into your work shoes, slung your jacket over your shoulders and grabbed your keys. Out of habit, you took a moment to lock the door behind you before sprinting down the hallway.

Outside, you got your first look at the structure for yourself.

Its massive form rose from downtown, black and imposing. You followed its outline with your stunned eyes, looking for the top but unable to find it; it was far too tall. The structure wasn’t here when you had gotten home from work, and construction couldn’t possibly have erected such an imposing thing in the scant time since then. Its origin couldn’t possibly be natural.

 So… where did it come from then?

A low rumble broke your confused thoughts as you watched a tentacle burst through the asphalt ahead. Your baffled mind struggled to process the sight as the cruelly sharp tip darted down to embed itself in the stomach of another pedestrian, a scream of pain following its sickening squelch as it struck home.

Bile rose in your throat as you instinctively moved, rushing forward even as your mind screamed at you to run away. The hideous tentacle pulled back, the impaled woman falling to the ground bonelessly as it rose again to search for its next target. A surge of adrenaline gushed through you, and you somehow managed to dodge the spike as you reached forward to pull the woman out of its range. Her blood left a streak of crimson on the sidewalk behind as you dragged her to safety.

Only then did you look down, taking stock of the damage.

Her face was already frozen in death, a look of utter terror and bewilderment marring her plain features forever. You shuddered, adding her face to the ever-growing ledger of death in your mind. You stood slowly, wiping her blood on your jeans and turning away. The street was crowded by then, more and more people coming outside to see what all the noise was from.

 This is bad. They’re all going to die if they stay here.

“Hey! Everybody! You can’t stand around and watch, you’ll die! Come on, let’s go!” you shouted, a scant few heads turning to listen but far too many people ignoring your warning. You marched up to a young woman tugging a child along by the hand, their faces more curious than scared. You reached out to tap her shoulder and she glanced back at you as you spoke.

“Lady, you’re gonna get yourself and your kid killed! Look, see those tentacles? I just saw one stab someone to death with just one stroke. You have to leave, now!”

She paused, her eyes shifting to see the tentacle you indicated. Her curiosity turned to fear as she took in its sharp point, giving you a grateful nod as she turned away to drag her child somewhere safe.

You repeated your dire warning to over a dozen more bystanders, but only a third of them took you seriously and ran away. You shoved your tiredness down, your long workday making your steps drag slightly as you pressed on, determined to save as many people as you could.

You watched in horror as another few tentacles sprouted from the ground, impaling a few unlucky souls and raising their bodies like trophies to the sky. More bile rose in your throat as you heard their wails of pain and confusion. You kept moving forward, still shouting warnings to anyone who’d listen. Another tentacle rumbled out of the pavement a mere three feet from where you stood, its cruel tip gleaming in the streetlights. You stumbled slightly, leaning against the brickwork of an apartment building to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

Your exhaustion tugged at you fiercely and your eyes fluttered closed against your will as the tentacle took aim at you. All thought ceased in your mind as your death approached.

With your eyes closed, you didn't see the dark-haired man sprinting at you. You didn’t see him drop a hand-carved silver cane and slide on his hip towards you as if he was stealing third base for the Yankees. You didn’t hear his low grunt as he pushed his arm out, rising to his feet just in front of you. You didn’t see the intricate pattern on his arm lighten, or the panther explode into existence mere feet in front of you, killing the tentacle with a single swipe of its lethally sharp claws almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Instead, what you next perceived was a warm hand on your side, pushing you to the right. You opened your fear-dilated eyes, shocked that you’re still alive, and immediately caught your breath.

The man who stood before you wore a look of concern on his ridiculously, unfairly handsome features. His intense gaze caught your attention first, irises the shade of muted emeralds, glinting with every flash of light. Dark eyelashes framed his long stare, thick eyebrows only adding to the expressiveness of his piercing gaze. A prominent nose flowed from his brow line above his full, pink lips, parted as he breathed heavily before you. Beautifully intricate tattoos covered his body, partially concealed by his clothing but clearly visible on his long, toned arms. The black of the ink on his skin only served to contrast his alabaster skin tone. His hair was as dark and shiny as obsidian, barely brushing the collar of his black leather vest.

"You must move, you cannot stay here!" the beautiful stranger declared urgently with a voice like velvet.

Goddamnit, could he be any more attractive?

You tried to take a step but discovered you couldn’t find the strength, your exhaustion overwhelming you at last. He paused, seeming to study your expression and huffed in irritation.

"Fine, I'll help you then," he announced, and suddenly you were against him. You blushed scarlet as he picked you up, carrying you in his lean arms towards a nearby van. The motion shook you out of your worn-out stupor enough to be embarrassed by your helplessness.

"I - I'm sorry, I think I can walk now," you told him shakily.

He gently placed your legs on solid ground with a nod. He turned to survey the area, presumably to check for more tentacles. You took a moment to search for nearby people you could warn and found a pair, shouting the now familiar warning as you saw the panther fighting. Its form shape-shifted periodically into new shapes full of sharp edges and harsh points and your mind struggled to comprehend how this was possible, trying fruitlessly to make sense of all the outlandish sights you’d seen in the last ten minutes.

 What the fuck is going on?

The stranger grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the van once more, and you tried to focus on the vehicle to avoid thinking about how many of your neighbors were now dead. It was an odd contraption, clearly customized with a neon sign on the side which read “Devil May Cry” and a laughably false phone number listed beneath it. Its grey and white paint was coated in dust and what looked like blood, not all of it dry. On his way to the van, the stranger only paused to lean over and pick up an ornate silver cane, flicking it to his side in a clearly practiced motion. You found yourself once again unable to comprehend what happened next as a cloud of black shards left his tattooed arm, drifting to the air nearby and forming a magnificent blue bird, the strangest you’d ever seen with a three-pronged beak and purple legs that seemed far too large for its body.

The bird laughed and dove at the nearest tentacle, slashing it with its talons. You heard the outlandish creature curse as the tentacle tried to stab it as it attacked.

The back door of the van suddenly crashed open, drawing your attention as a white-haired man leaned out. He was young, around your age if you had to guess. An absolutely huge sword was strapped to his back, and he waved you forward with an oversized pistol in hand.

"Hurry, we gotta go NOW, V!" he hollered. He hurriedly stowed the pistol and reached out to help you inside, the dark-haired man not far behind you. To your surprise, the panther also jumped into the van. The second you were all inside, the van took off at a speed that was nearly as terrifying as almost being impaled by mysterious tentacles, accelerating faster than you imagined a vehicle of its size could manage. Outside the van, you caught a glimpse of the strange bird you saw moments ago, flapping hard to keep up with the racing vehicle.

"Hold on, folks!" a feminine voice with a southern drawl yelled from the driver’s seat. You grabbed onto the nearest solid object, an odd countertop hidden in the corner and held on for dear life as the van dashed through the city, to somewhere (you hoped) very, VERY far away.

---V---

V looked over at the young woman he'd just rescued, wondering how long it would be before you were calm enough to think clearly. Your hands were shaking, eyes wide and dilated. As he watched, your jaw clenched and your hands steadied as you inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes, let out the breath in a reassuring sigh and turned to face him as the van sped past the crowds of terrified residents, various pieces of kitchen equipment and power tools clanging at every pothole Nico drove over.

"Thank you for saving me. I... I think I would be dead if not for you," you whispered softly. Your eyes were still fearful, but you seemed coherent enough. He took a moment to gaze at you, taking in your appearance. You had gentle features; a kind face. He felt an odd sensation in his stomach as he recalled your words.

"And the maiden soon forgot her fear. Are you alright? Perhaps you ought to sit down," he responded gently and gestured at the worn couch under the window.

You nodded and cautiously made your way to it, keeping your knees bent to compensate for Nico’s wild movements. As you moved, V studied you more closely. He was curious - most civilians didn’t exhibit this level of stoic acceptance after first encountering the demonic roots, not to mention the fact that you had been actively trying to warn others and urging them to run. Your quick calmness was... intriguing. He couldn't tell if you had any demonic blood, but you obviously weren't unfamiliar with fear. No one who could calm themselves that quickly was new to the feeling, he knew.

"My name is V, that's Nero, and Nico is driving. Griffon is outside and her name is Shadow. What shall we call you?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the van wall casually. He gestured to each named being as he introduced them, Griffon and Shadow returning to him as the vehicle got farther away from danger. Your eyes widened as the black shards sank into his skin.

You glanced away, quick to look elsewhere as your cheeks flush slightly, he noticed. Perhaps she’s embarrassed about needing to be saved?

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you all,” you responded finally. “Um, do you know what those... tentacle things were? Where did they come from?"

V smirked. This might take a while to explain.

---Reader---

 Demons.

 Demons are real.

 Demons are real and attacking my home.

"Holy shit," you exclaimed, eyes wide, looking back and forth between the two men. "So, wait, how do you kill them? Why are they here? How can we stop them from killing people?"

Nero laughed, but not unkindly. He seemed genuinely amused as he sat down on your right, leaning back against the couch cushion nonchalantly.

"Slow down, Y/N! They aren't too hard to kill, at least the lower powered ones. Pretty much anything that would kill a human can kill a demon; guns, swords, punches, you get the idea. Don't really know why they're here, but V might."

V smirked, his full lips twisting in a way that made your eyes flick to them for a heartbeat too long. You scolded yourself; this isn't the time for that!

"They are here because of Urizen. The Demon King, as he calls himself. For now, we should find somewhere to rest, gather resources. As for you, Y/N, forgive me but you don't seem like you're quite up to fighting demons. We can take you to the edge of the city, but from there you must make your own way to safety."

You paused, considering his words. He wasn't wrong; you had no combat experience and didn’t know how to be helpful in a fight. Not to mention you were completely terrified, as well as you tried to conceal it.

 This is insanity. These people are mad, fighting those things. We should all just run, go somewhere else and leave this city as far behind as possible.

Yet even the thought of abandoning the people still in the city felt... wrong. You didn't want to run from this, especially not with this feeling, like you were magnetized to this group. You couldn’t just walk away when so many people were dying; you had to balance the scales!

 I’m going to get myself killed. What am I thinking, I can’t help people if I’m dead! But.. there are so many people here. They’re all going to die too.

You took a deep breath before speaking, brutally shoving your fear to the farthest corner of your mind and focusing on what little you could do to help the small group.

"It's true, I'm not really a fighter. I’m a nurse, and I've been studying surgical procedures to prepare for medical school. I can help you if anyone gets injured. As much as I'd like to not have to face those things ever again, it wouldn't be right if I left. I wouldn't feel right," you explained uneasily, hoping the group didn't judge you too harshly for your previous terror.

V raised an eyebrow at that, then glanced at Nero. “The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest,” he recited simply. Nero shrugged, and for the first time you got a good look at his right arm. You gasped as you saw the haphazard bandages covering a stump, blood stains showing in a deep rust shade, a recent amputation that clearly hadn’t been taken care of properly.

"At the very least let me dress that! You'll get an infection or sepsis; it could kill you!"

V snorted, to your surprise. "You mean he would be... dead weight?" he commented, obviously amused. His intense emerald eyes flicked to yours as if sharing an intimate joke, and you smiled at him hesitantly.

Nero turned red, muttering to himself for a moment about someone named Dante, then nodded at you sullenly. Clearly V’s words had hit a sore spot.

"Fine, when we stop you can take a look," he grumbled. He shot a glare at V, then shuffled off to sit in the front with Nico, leaving you alone with the obsidian haired man. You could hear them talking for a while but couldn't tell what they were saying. You turned back to V, mind still whirling with questions.

His long fingers pulled a thin book from within his leather vest, clearly preparing to read. You swallowed your questions for the time being, not wanting to interrupt the strange man’s reading.

 I need to rest; I can barely keep my eyes open. The adrenaline must be fading.

You leaned back into the couch, reassured that with this group you could sleep in safety, closed your eyes and drifted off into oblivion.

__________________________________

You dreamt of the past. Your mind never blessed you with pleasant dreams anymore, always seeking to understand, to learn more from memories that your waking mind knew would bring only pain. Memory is the enemy of peace, after all.

The familiar sounds were there, as always. The crack of glass breaking and the high-pitched screams of your friend, the unmistakable sound of her gasping breaths.

Then the visuals. Shadows dancing like a sick ballet on the wall of the shed. Dead eyes staring up at you as a warning. The flash of light on gleaming steel as ---

__________________________________

You awakened with a jolt as Nico slammed the brakes, causing you to slide unceremoniously into V. He had sat down at some point next to you. With lightning reflexes, his arm shot out and held you close as the rattling van mercifully slid to a full stop, keeping you from falling to the floor. You could feel him breathing under you, smell his scent of leather and lavender. The combined sensory input was... intoxicating. You tried to pull away, but he held you for a split second before letting go. You blushed furiously, sure that he was teasing you. You couldn’t bear to look at him so you missed the look of regret he gave you and didn’t see him lick his lips before speaking.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" he inquired softly, his tone almost a growl.

You internally cursed his voice for having such a pleasant sound before responding.

"Yeah, thanks for the help... again."

V chuckled under his breath, then returned to his reading. Sitting so close to him, you caught a glimpse inside the pages to see a flowing script and beautifully colored illustrations. Forgetting your embarrassment and the lingering fear from the nightmare, you asked what he was reading.

"Poetry. Would you like to hear some?" he responded, his voice like warm honey.

The thought of his voice reciting poetry sent your mind spinning. Nope, no way, nuh uh, you’ve already made enough of an ass out of yourself, so you just hold your horses there, girl. There’re bigger things to be worried about anyway, like DEMONS!

"Sure,” your rebellious mouth stated.

 Goddamit. Stupid mouth.

He smiled, gaze returning to the pages as he chose a piece to read.

“I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem, In England’s green and pleasant land,” he recited, his voice melodious and perfectly timed.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, the words rolling in your mind as you digested them, finding meaning in the short excerpt as a low hum of recognition passed through you. “Is that… William Blake?”

V nodded, seemingly taken aback.

“You enjoy poetry?” he asked you.

You felt your cheeks tinting as he studied you intently as you replied, “I guess you could say I’m a bit of a bookworm. Literature is a gift.”

The outer corners of his lips twitched, smiling for a fraction of an instant. If you had blinked you would have missed it. He seemed pleased by your response and you smiled at him shyly, shifting your weight awkwardly.

“I couldn’t agree more, much to our companions dismay. They are of a different mindset,” he replied thoughtfully.

“What’s your favorite poem, V?” you probed him, enjoying the chance to talk with someone who shared your enjoyment of words.

“I’ve come to enjoy The Book of Thel a great deal, are you familiar?”

It rang a bell but you couldn’t remember any details of the work.

“I read it many years ago, though I can’t remember any of it now,” you responded.

“Allow me, then; Why thou complainest not when in one hour thou fade away: Then we shall seek thee but not find; ah Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.”

You sat in silence, letting the words sink in. V’s soothing voice added a layer of complexity to them, sounding quite sad and mournful as he recited.

Luckily for you, Nero chose that exact moment to trudge over to you with a small red box labeled "first aid". He sighed, seeming to have resigned himself to your treatment.

As if it isn't in his best interest anyway.

"Let's get this over with, Y/N," he grunted. V stood and gave you a nod as he walked away a few feet to continue his reading. You focused your mind on the task at hand, pushing the memory of his voice away.

---V---

V watched you gently remove the bandages from Nero's arm, trying to figure out his reaction to your words. None of the others he had become familiar with enjoyed poetry, several rolling their eyes the first few times he quoted a line in conversation until they became accustomed and ignored it entirely. He felt his heart warm slightly by the shared enjoyment, a distraction from his mission. A pleasant distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. He must remain focused - he didn't have time for any fellowships or pleasant conversations.

Yet still, he found himself watching you redress Nero's arm, wondering what your touch felt like. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps he simply wanted to be touched, to feel connected? That would explain most of his reactions to you so far.

 Enough of this. Focus. Too much is at stake.

He mentally shook himself and returned his gaze to the words on the painted pages before him, forcing himself to pay attention and read the now familiar text.

  I am in you, and you in me. Mutual in divine love.

V sighed and rolled his eyes.

 How unhelpful.

He glanced back at you and Nero, seeing you smile at something the white haired warrior had said. Laughing. He wondered what that felt like as well, to share mirth in such a way with another person.

A memory played in his mind, of many years ago. It was a simple one, a trifle really. He was playing with Dante in the backyard, not long before... before. The two of them were laughing together over a fort they had built out of sticks, the structure haphazard and childish. Their mother was nearby, keeping a careful eye on them as they played.

He smiled softly at the thought, wondering if Dante had any fond memories of them as children. Somehow, he doubted it.

Again with the distractions. Enough is enough.

V looked out the window, easily spotting the already massive tree in the center of town. The sight helped him focus, helped him remember his priorities.

---Reader---

After removing the old bandages, you took a moment to examine the wound. It was in bad shape, looking as if Nero had initially seen a doctor but later popped the stitches in at least three places, leaving open wounds to fester and bleed freely. There was already a slight infection, but nothing too serious if he let you take care of it and didn’t do anything stupid.

“How long ago did this happen, Nero?” you asked.

“It was April 30th, so sixteen days ago,” he informed you as he watched you examine him.

“Ah, alright then. It should heal fully in about two to six more weeks, until then you need to change the bandage at least once a day, if not more,” you explained to the willful young man.

You dug through the poorly organized first aid kit, finding an unopened bottle of antiseptic and several rolls of bandages. Some gauze patches lied on the bottom.

 Perfect, now all I need is a towel or a bowl.

You looked to your left and right, eventually finding a small cup that would work well enough. You carefully angled Nero’s arm over the cup and got the antiseptic ready.

“This will hurt a bit, Nero,” you warned him. He nodded, ready, and you slowly poured the fluid over his injury and let it drip into the waiting cup below. He grunted but didn’t pull away. Once the drips had slowed enough, you laid a gauze patch over his half-healed stitches, using one hand to hold it in place as your other reached to grasp the bandage roll. You used your teeth to get the first portion open, proceeding to gently but firmly wrap up Nero’s arm. You used the scissors from the kit to cut the end and secured it with a satisfied smile.

“All set,” you told him.

Nero carefully moved his arm, testing the bandage's flexibility. You knew he would, he seemed the type to never hold still if he could help it. You’d seen many people like him come through the emergency room, struggling to hold still as you treated whatever they came in for even as their lack of stillness worsened their condition.

"Feels good, Y/N! Thanks! You are handy!" He jumped up, throwing a few experimental punches, bobbing and weaving like he was in a boxing match with Muhammad Ali himself. You laughed as he feigned dodging a blow; his antics allowed you to forget the horrors of what you’d witnessed for an all-too-brief moment.

"Hey hey hey, not in the van! Take it outside, jerkwad!" Nico exclaimed hurriedly, coming out from her perch in the drivers seat. She pushed Nero towards the door, forced him outside and slammed the door behind him.

“Sheesh, what an ass…” she muttered under her breath, but you could tell she meant it with affection. She looked like she’d be happiest on a construction site or in a garage. A multitude of tools were strapped to her shorts and you could see oil on her arms, along with tattoos that seemed to revolve around guns and skulls. She pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as she leaned over to you.

“Hi, I’m Nico. Welcome to the Devil May Cry-mobile, I’m your resident genius gunsmith and artist extraordinaire. You joinin’ the team? Would be nice to have another lady along for the ride!”

Your eyes flicked to V as your thoughts debated your options again.

 What about my life? What about going back to school, learning to be a trauma surgeon? Can I really justify putting that on hold, maybe even abandoning it entirely to help these people?

 …How can I not?

V smirked knowingly but nodded before following Nero outside, waving his hand through a cloud of Nico’s expelled cigarette smoke as he passed.

“I guess I am,” you replied, smiling and doing your best to ignore the panic in your mind at the thought of staying in an area full of... demons. The thought of their existence brought a surreal feeling to your mind and you wondered if this entire day had been a dream. A new nightmare shaped to ensure you paid it the attention it demanded.

“Awesome! You wouldn’t happen to know how to cook, would’ja? Nero’s hopeless and V’s somehow worse, and my cooking skills don’t extend beyond cereal and mac and cheese,” she asked with a smile on her face.

You found her smile infectious, and you felt your own lips stretching into a grin as well as you responded, “I’m no master chef, but I get by all right.”

She clapped your back in a friendly manner, taking a pull from her cigarette. The tang of nicotine filled the air as she exhaled, the enclosed space holding the smoke captive. You ignored the scent, used to it after years of exposure.

“All right! Well, we’re probably gonna stay here for the night, kitchen’s in that corner if you’re hungry. The guys generally sleep outside but I think you could squeeze in here with me for now. Sound good?”

You nodded, grateful for her easy acceptance of you even as your mind still struggled to control your overwhelming fear. You found yourself warming to her quickly, despite a history of not getting along well with other women. Glancing at the kitchen, you spotted the cereal she mentioned sitting atop a stovetop. There were a few cupboards but not much else. You hoped you could gather some basic food staples in the morning, but for now the call of hunger was weaker than the call of rest. You yawned, almost cracking your jaw in the process.

“Here, I’ll get ya a pillow and another blanket, bout ready to crash myself!” Nico commented. She opened another cupboard, pulling out a small but fluffy looking pillow and a fleece blanket. She handed them to you, put out her cigarette in an ashtray nearby and gave you a salute before climbing a tiny ladder to what you assumed was a hidden bed.

“Goodnight, Nico. Thanks,” you said through another yawn. You heard a soft click and the van went dark.

“No problem, new girl. Night!”

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[writerchicken]

Chapter 1.  

I rubbed my eyes, 'staying up late last night to study for the test better prove to have not been a stupid decsion' i think, stepping around the stalls and shoppers in the street

Two hands land on my shoulders and instinctivly I turn and strike my palm up towards their face.

"SAYURI" it yells, or more like squeaked

I halted my hand and opening my eyes I saw one of my best friends, Ronin, his emerald eyes twinkled with laughter and his messy platinum blonde hair framed his head in a really cute way, Ive sorta had a crush on him for the past year, I just wanted to wait until we graduated and got assigned our teams because Asuma said same team realtionships can put the whole team in jeopardy during a mission.

"uhhhhhhhh you ok there Sayuri?"

I shake my head and look up at him, only to realize, my hand was holding his cheek, i quickly whipped away and turned holding my hands agauinst my face

'no omg Sayuri you did not just do that what the hell were you thinking ugggghhhhh'

"Sayuri why are your cheeks all red" my other best friend Norio comes up and pokes my cheeks.

I swat his hand away

"I stayed up all night last night studying for the test today" I admitted, hoping that would distract them

"THERES A TEST TODAY??????" Norio shouts, causing a few people to turn and look at us

Ronin laughed "remember Norio? they reminded after school yesterday" he placed his hand on Norios shoulder "or were you too busy staring at Ino to listen"

Norios face turned red "shes really pretty" he muttered

I laughed, Ino was another one of my closest friends, despite having very different personalities,  and she has hung out with us before and i guess he developed a crush on her.

"besides that doesnt matter, what does matter is the test today" Norio said, slinging his arm around my shoulders "guess I'll have to cheat"

I rolled my eyes, Norio has this technique he learned from his older sister who is a chunin, apparently she thought he would need it and to be honest he probably does. (i dont have time to make up a name but for now I'm going to call it Norios special jutsu) the Jutsu is interesting. he can slip his conscience into someone elses body but he does not have control over it, he can just go through their memories or see what they see, hear what they hear, and the whole time his actual physical body is still doing whatever he told it to do, like read a book or something like that. It's a pretty cool Jutsu but it does bother me that he uses it for cheating.

"I know I did not hear thta you wanted to cheat on todays test, did I Norio?"

we turn and see Iruka Sensei a few feet away from us, his hands on his hips and eyebrows raised in suspiscion.

Norio rubbed his neck and laughed nervously before sprinting to the academy.

"He's always one for trouble, isnt he?" Iruka said

we nod

"well i hope you two are better prepared then he is, this test determines wether or not you graduate" he said as we started following Norio towards the academy

"Don't worry Iruka Sensai, Sayuri stayed up all  night studying, so she will definently pass" said Ronin, nudging my arm

I smiled "yea, if I don't fall asleep during the test" they laugh and we continue walking

//

I slide into a row of seats next to Ino, just in front of Ronin and Norio.

"hey girl how you doing?" i greet, pulling out a textbook

she huffs "fine i guess, not excited about this test though" laying her head on the desk she asked 'did you study?"

i nodded before gesturing to the row behind us "guess who didnt?"

she laughed, sitting up and turning to the back row

"Hey Norio, you ready for the test today?"

his face went red as he shook his head "nah i was too busy practicing my Jutsus to study"

we laughed,knowing that wasnt true,when Iruka walked into the room.

///A/N forgive me if things change during this part cause i havent watched the first few episodes in awhile so this is just me piecing toegther what i remember and doing stuff with it////

"Alright, alright lets calm down now, as you know today we will be testing you for Graduation, and see which ones of you will go on and become Genin"

the atmosphere in the room changed as we all self conciously sat up straighter and really took in how serious this was

"Im not gonna sugar-coat it, being a Leaf Village Ninja is hard work, but this is what you have been preparing for, you have all worked very hard and i expect every single one of you guys to pass"

papers are passed out and pencils distributed, the timer starts and we start writing, i know Norio is cheating cause he is actually writing stuff down

i grit my teeth and rub my eyes and start writing

///

they let us out for lunch and i drop myself onto the picnic table my accidently hits it and i let out a cry

Norio laughs "thats why i didnt study "

Ino and Ronin shake their heads, trying to hold back smiles

i glance around i notice that we are sitting at the table with Kiba, Shikamaru, Sakura, Ten-Ten, Lee and Choji.

i reach over the table and stick my hand into Chojis chip bag, 'hes used to this by now' and shove them into my mouth

Kiba reaches over Shikamaru and places a coffee cup in front of me

"you looked tired so i got you this"

i grasped the cup between my hands "OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!!!"

he blushed as everyone laughed at me and my love of coffee

the bell rang, signaling us back inside

/////i hope you guys liked this please comment to let me know how i did, I am still trying to figure out how to make a master list but if you check my Wattpad or Quotev then you can find the parts leading up to this! 

[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

Thanks for all your feedback on the first chapter. I loved reading it all! I hope you enjoy the second chapter.

Once again thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta

Chapter 2 : A Recreational Activity (well, a few)

The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.  -Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

Jamie groaned and hoped that the banging inside his head would stop soon. This was the problem with drinking wine. Generally Jamie tried to steer clear of ‘grape’ and stick to ‘grain’. However, last night, he had supped copious quantities of both and now was suffering the consequences. He stretched his hand out hoping to find a glass of water and possibly even two aspirins left on the bedside table by his more responsible alter ego yesterday. There they were. Gratefully, he sank back onto the pillows and waited for them to do their work.  

Parts of his alcohol-induced dreams came back to him… miles and miles of hotel corridors and he was chasing, chasing... a woman with the most gorgeous legs he had ever seen. He kept chasing her, but she wouldn’t stop and she wouldn’t turn round. A flash of wild dark curls and…

The banging in his head seemed to be louder now. “Unca,” a cross little voice added to the general cacophony. “Unca, get up now. Mam says now. ‘Tis beckfast and then ‘wimmin’. Mam says.”

Jamie forced himself out of bed. Fastening the towelling bath robe, he opened his door. His little nephew rushed past him and started jumping on the bed. Jenny stood in the doorway, her eyes darting all round the room.

“I go ‘wimmin’ with ye, Unca, wiv Spideyman shorts. What ye shorts, Unca?”

Jamie sighed and looked at his sister. “She’s no’ here. She didna stay. Nothing happened.” He grabbed Wee Jamie round his middle, lifting him high up in the air. “And who said I would take ye swimmin’, ye wee fishie?”

“Mam said so, she did.”

Jamie gently set his nephew on his feet. “Aye, well, yer mam makes an awfa’ lot o’ decisions fer the men in this family. But I guess I canna refuse, no’ if I ken what’s good fer me.”

**************

Claire lay on one of the day beds next to the swimming pool and wiggled her toes, admiring the newly applied scarlet polish. She set aside the copy of Hello! she had been skimming through and turned to Geillis.

“This was such a good idea of yours, G. Total battery recharge today… and we’ve even had the whole pool to ourselves. I don’t reckon we’ll be seeing any of that wedding party any time soon. Not if last night was anything to go by.”

“I am rather full of brilliant ideas,” Geillis agreed. “Although I feel we may have missed an opportunity last night. So many men...”

“... And no doubt so many wives and girlfriends!” Claire interrupted.

“Och, well,” Geillis dismissed Claire’s interruption. “Guess we’ll never know.”

“Anyway, so I’ve a body wrap, then hot stone massage in twenty minutes. I’m going to head into the sauna for ten minutes first. You coming?”

“Aye, may as weel. I don’t reckon there’ll be anything worth hangin’ round here fer today.” Geillis gathered up her belongings and followed Claire into the sauna.

**************

Jamie sat in the male changing room, blowing up his nephew’s armbands (Spider-Man, obviously a theme here) while Wee Jamie hopped excitedly from foot to foot.

“Now, afore we go in the pool, are ye sure you dinna need a wee? Ye ken what I told ye, as how if ye wee in the pool, the water turns bright blue?”

“Nah, Unca, c’mon now. Wanna go ‘wimmin’.” The little lad pulled his armbands up, grabbed Jamie’s hand and headed for the door. “C’mon, c’mon.” He paused and stared intently at his uncle. “Ye no Spideyman shorts?”

Jamie looked down at his blue checked board shorts and tried to look sad about this. “Sorry lad, I’m too big fer such a fine pair.”

As they entered the pool area together, Jamie looked around. It was totally deserted, which, Jamie thought, was hardly surprising based on the amount of alcohol that had been consumed the day before. An abandoned magazine lay on one of the day beds.

Wee Jamie pointed to a small passage way on the other side of the pool. “What’s ‘at?”

“Ah, nothing for ye. Just the sauna... it’s awfa hot and no’ fer children and the girls’ changing room is down there too. That’s definitely no’ fer us lads, eh?”

Following Jenny’s instructions to “wear the lad out, we want him tae sleep in the car going home,” Jamie stayed in the pool, playing with his nephew until he noticed the lad’s eyelids start to droop. He scooped him up and carried him back to the changing room, intending to just wrap him in a towel and leave the tricky drying and dressing to Jenny.

Wee Jamie held tightly to his uncle’s neck. “You fib, Unca. Ye did. I wee’d and I wee’d but no blue.”

Jamie chuckled. God, he loved this little lad something fierce and maybe someday, God willing...

**************

Claire picked up the two whiskies from the bar and made her way to the table where Geillis was sitting. The pub was quite empty at the moment, just a handful of people, like them, having a quick drink after work before heading home.

Geillis looked Claire up and down appraisingly. “Ye ken I love ye, Claire, but could you no’ wear something a bit, weel, more alluring when we’re out?”

Claire gazed down at her old jeans and plain black tee shirt. “G, I’ve been on my feet in theatre for the past 8 hours. I’m so knackered, you’re lucky I managed to change out of my scrubs and into this! Besides, however can I compete with your alllllluuure?”  She drawled the last word out jokingly. “Maybe you have the allure for both of us? I can be your duff.”

Geillis raised a quizzical eyebrow.  

“Designated ugly fat friend.” Claire explained with a smile. “According to the movie, every friendship group has one. You and me, we’re a friendship group, ergo, I must be it.”

“Claire, ye may be many things but fat or ugly never.” Geillis said, “Yer hair’s a wee bit wild, mind. Do ye no’ fancy a Brazilian blow dry?” She ran her fingers over her sleek strawberry blonde locks.

“And here’s me thinking a ‘brazilian’ was about a different part of my anatomy altogether!”

Geillis smiled, then a serious expression crept over her face. “But, Claire, ye dinna think ye’re fat or ugly really, do ye?”

Claire stared at the beer mat on the table, her fingers picking at it, ripping it into tiny shreds of paper. She really thought she’d outgrown that nervous habit.

“Well, no, but, it’s difficult to explain. Frank...” She could hear Geillis tutting at the mention of his name. “Frank had certain… er, expectations of how I should be. How I should behave, how I should look. The disapproval on his face if I took an extra roast potato, ordered dessert, poured myself another glass of wine. There was always someone younger, more self-controlled, thinner. So, for a while I tried to become the person he wanted me to be. I tried to see myself through his eyes and I saw the fat arse, the lack of control, the not-really good enough...”

Geillis leaned closer and gently placed her hand on Claire’s. “Thank God ye got out of there. That wasna a healthy place tae be, Claire. Ye know ye’re worth a lot more than that.”

“I know. And I am joking about that duff business but occasionally, old habits are hard to break. That’s why I’m not after a serious relationship. I’m not sure I’m ready to let someone see me as I really am.”

“But a fling will do ye no harm at all. It will do ye the world of good, let ye see how another man treats ye. In fact, we need a list. A checklist. When ye’re in theatre, ye dinna start cuttin’ till ye know everything is in place, all the boxes are ticked. So we make a list of what ye want and ye dinna start, er, flingin’ till a man ticks all the boxes.”

Claire finally put the mangled beer mat down. “A list, really?”

“Aye, it’s scientific, ye ken.” Geillis picked up her bag and rooted around for a piece of paper. Finding an unused paper napkin, she smoothed it flat on the table, extracted a pen from the depths of her bag and sat poised ready to write. “Ok. Point one…” She scribbled something down quickly.

“Come on, Let me read it.” Claire laughed, turning the napkin round. “Must look good in, and out of, a kilt. G, you have a one-track mind.”

“Och, it’s a fling we’re talking about, ye only need one track, I reckon. So, what about point two?”

“Well, I may as well play along. Point two must be no complications.”

Geillis obligingly wrote that down. “Next point. Enjoys a drink. Likes to let his hair down.”

Claire took the pen from her friend and added another line. Geillis read it upside down. “Really, it’s a fling ye’re after. Ye’re tellin’ me if they dinna like the X-Files, that’s it? Is that a deal breaker?”

“What can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Fine, but I’m adding this one then. Fancies ye as ye are. No changing ye.”

The pub was starting to fill up. Most commuters had already made their way home, to be replaced by those heading out for the evening, coming into the pub for a quick drink before their evening plans properly began. Even on a drizzly Thursday evening, it was getting to be standing room only. Claire noticed several people eyeing their table enviously. She drained her whisky glass and stood up.

“I think that’s me done for this evening. Any more and I’ll have to be put to bed right here.  I’ll just pop to the loo and meet you outside, G.”

As Claire crossed the room to the toilets, Geillis started to gather her stuff together to leave.

Immediately a woman rushed to the table, plonked herself in one chair, and stuffed her bag on the other chair. She eyed Geillis, willing her to hurry up and be on her way. Geillis ignored her and continued rifling through her bag, her movements deliberately slowing. Eventually, Geillis decided she’d had enough of the game, turned away and walked to the exit.

**************

Geneva caught Jamie’s eye as he moved away from the bar, drinks in hand, and pointed to the seats she had found for them. He sat down, taking a deep slug of his whisky as he put Geneva’s vodka, lime and soda on the table next to a tatty old napkin.  

“Someone’s shopping list, no doubt.” Geneva dismissed it with a wave of her hand as Jamie picked it up and carried on telling Jamie about the difficulties in trying to find the correct colour for a new bedroom throw. “...Not really a teal, but not quite a cerulean colour either…”

Jamie knew his role in this. It was just to nod and murmur appreciatively at appropriate points in the story. That gave him time to think… unfortunately. Thinking made him realise that Jenny had been right three weeks ago at the wedding. Geneva was not the one, he didn’t need to try again just to see. And she did talk utter shite.

He groaned, which Geneva seemed to take as indication of his deep interest in her tale of home furnishing trials and tribulations. He should never have slept with her. He hadn’t intended to but last night, as the blood left his brain and migrated south, he had lost the capacity for rational, coherent thought and had followed his baser instincts. Which had been a very bad idea.

Jamie glanced at the napkin he was still holding. Straightening it between his fingers, he began to read. A woman with long strawberry blonde locks suddenly leaned over and gently took the napkin from his fingers.  

“Thanks, it’s fer scientific research, ye ken.”  

He watched as she walked to the door, to her waiting friend. Her friend with the long shapely denim clad legs and mad curly hair and her face, so full of life with sparkling eyes he longed to dive right into.

“What an odd thing to want.” Geneva interrupted his contemplation. “That couldn’t have been scientific research. On a used napkin. Some people are just strange.”

Jamie felt his breath catch in his throat. Jenny had been right - he recognised it. What to do now?

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.11

Part E L E V E N 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 7k+ (jesus wtf)

AN: VERY IMPORTANT GUYS: this might be the last part i release before i enter uni and find myself incredibly busy with class so i am so fucking sorry for that. i wish i could keep writing this consistently and finishing by maybe november but it might be a little longer than that. to those who love TNT: ya’ll are amazing and im so grateful for all the support and love ive gotten for it. im also just so sorry to disappoint, and will try my best to update them as timely and well-done as i may xx 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Thursday - Frozen Day

“You’re so careless!” Savannah lectured, tapping your head in scolding while you sat there and took it. 

For the trip, the teachers had forced all the seniors into the gym at the very moment everyone stepped into the school. The gym, though newly renovated and shiny, was disgusting. The glossed, light-brown (wooden) planks of the floor were ornate with splotches of dirt, dust, and residue of athlete sweat. There were several basketball hoops around, with two scoreboards on the width sides of the gym. Those black scoreboards were off and collecting cobweb with the ceiling emitting super white lights down to practically blind you. 

But that was the least of your worries. 

“Des, if you keep offering me your breakfast burrito, I’m going to bash my head against the wall,” you huffed under your breath, having Des continue to wiggle the said food in front of you. You and the girls were huddled in a corner, with you in the very corner, slung down and allowing your large Thrasher sweatshirt to swallow you. Des had been to your right, sitting in a pretzel with Alexis to your left with her legs folded the same. Savannah sat like a princess, as she chose to wear this long, floral skirt because it matched with her beige crop top. 

“Have you eaten?” Des asked, completely skeptical of you. 

“Yes.”

“How can I believe you?” 

“By trust my word?” You suggested. You understood they were worried and you understand fully well how careless you are. But this was just absolutely uncalled for and unnecessary. “I ate a bagel with raspberry cream cheese and orange grove orange juice.” 

“It sounds like you went to Starbucks.” 

“I did.” 

“Bitch, with what money?” 

“Someone came in clutch,” you replied simply, not necessarily wanting to get too deep. Des stared at you wistfully before looking away, knowing you hadn’t want to say another word more. You looked over to see Alex begin braiding her long, brown locks and you began to randomly wander about Luke and how he dealt with his blonde hair. 

Does he wake up to it being messy? Or is it always curly when he wakes up? Can he put it upwards in some sort of quiff? Is it long enough for a man bun? Oh boy, why the fuck did you even care? 

What about Luke’s hair do you give a shit about? It aggravated you how much your mind played this useless games. Luke has somehow weaved himself into most things you look at. You see video games being broadcasted outside game shops and think about if he had an Xbox or a Playstation. Sometimes when you saw kids play little league sports at parks, you wondered if he’s played any real serious sport. Truth be told, it was bothering you and gave you a headache than you already get when you interact with said boy. 

“Seniors!” Announced a teacher at the dead center of the gym. You didn’t bother looking up, too exhausted to divert your eyes somewhere other than the ground. “If you’d like to see who chose you and your groups camp schedule, come on over!” 

Immediately, you heard people rise with feet dashing the glossed ground over to the center of the gym. A cheap plastic table was set up with folders of papers, likely the schedules and whatever the hell else the man was saying. You were quick to mute him out as you fiddled with your thumbs. You didn’t care enough to see what group or what the schedule was. You just wanted to get it over with. 

“I’ll get the schedule for you,” Alexis hummed, giving your shoulder a squeeze before your three companions rose from the ground and slowly made their way to the lines of students. You sighed, already bored to be in the gym, wasting time by sitting around and not even getting a wink of work. Of all things, you hated not being productive. 

“Y/N.” A familiar male voice sounded through, his figure casting a shadow over you. Being swallowed up by it, your eyes glanced up only to emit a deep sigh before diverting down to the glossed ground. 

“Go away,” you spewed, distaste already dancing on your tongue as Nathan took a seat beside you. You tossed a glance only to find Nathan swallowed up by navy blue sweats and some yellow shirt representing a college you couldn’t exactly make out from your angle. But aggravation soon drowned you as Nathan sat down in a pretzel and scooted closer to merely brush your shoulder with his own. “God, why me?” You breathed, looking up at the ceiling in hopes someone from the skies heard you. 

“You know Y/N, you can’t be cold like that forever,” Nathan pointed out, having you roll your eyes in how little you cared for Nathan’s words. “You might get denied form several jobs in the future if you’re that brutal.” 

“I’m only cold to you because you serve no benefit to me,” you said quietly. “If it’s an employer, of course, I wouldn’t act this way.” 

“You’re a breathing glacier with valid reason,” Nathan hummed, having you still stone-faced before Nathan flicked his wrist to present a sheet of paper to you. You looked at it curiously, taking it from him to read its contents clearly. “I found out what group you’re in, and I was hoping you could do me a favor so I can return a favor.” 

Your eyes dilated, seeing your leader assignment that was the one and only: Luke Hemmings. You figured you were going to be in his group, hence why you hadn’t bothered putting in the effort to beg to Ashton. But you had some hope that maybe one of the boys would give you a little sympathy, regardless of being Luke’s friends. Now you were to suffer greatly on a trip you initially wanted to bail on. 

“What gives you the upper hand to even ask that of me?” You grumbled, knowing as fact Nathan has some sort of ‘threat.’ 

“Are you sure your head didn’t fall on the floor?” Nathan hummed curiously, having you glare over at the chestnut-haired entity. “It seems your intelligence lost a few bolts.” 

“Fuck off and tell me what you’re trying to exchange.” 

“Well, I’m just gonna tell you what I want: to be in Lucas’ group,” Nathan began, having you raise your eyebrow. You weren’t gonna respond, assuming he was going to continue and hopefully finish. “Not only to be around you, but to make sure you’ll be okay.” 

“Oh, and you care over my well-being?” You began sarcastically. “Oh wow, you must think you’re such a good person for caring over a girl like me.” Nathan grinned at this, attempting to dismiss it with an unhurt smile. But you knew in the very curls of his lips the slight pang of pain from your cruel words. 

“I don’t trust that asshole taking care of you any better,” Nathan began quietly, his veined hands clenching onto his knees. “He’s gonna be responsible with 22 others to really dedicate time for you. You know this, Y/N.” 

“I don’t need people looking after me, alright?” You spat. “I’m 18, I’m responsible of my own damn self. Enough that I can take care of myself.” 

“Your nurse’s trip yesterday says otherwise,” Nathan contradicted in a hush tone. You flinched, refusing to meet his gaze as your eyes stared at the shining floor. If you could punch the boy, you would. “No sleep, no food, no water in your system? I dunno about you, but to me it seems like you can’t take care of yourself too well.” 

“Just shut the fuck up already,” you grunted, pulling your sleeves more over your hands as you tugged at them with your hands. “You don’t know shit about me.” 

“I know that your home situation isn’t great,” Nathan dared, having you close your eyes. Just go away, you thought. Just fucking get away from me already. “And if you think I’m being pushy, imagine how Luke would act if he knew.” Right then, your heart stopped, eyes wide and completely laid upon the chestnut-haired imbecile. 

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you growled. “You wouldn’t-- you said you were selfish, that you were glad Luke didn’t know.” 

“Well sure,” Nathan hummed as he leaned a little back. “But I see how Luke annoys you so I figured this exchange would be reasonable. I keep my mouth shut and you get the honor of having me have your back.” 

“I feel like I don’t win as much,” you hummed lowly, your eyes diverting up to study the mobbing group of students seeking their papers. For Nathan to keep quiet and keep Luke at bay, he’ll be in your group for the desire to be near you and watch over you. The entire situation was idiotic, you knew. But you would rather ‘burden’ Nathan with the responsible he refuses to believe he doesn’t have than Luke having it. You still disliked both, but your favoritism resided with Luke if ever the question was put out there. 

“It seems like you would rather much have me annoy you than Luke,” Nathan said with ease. 

“That still makes you annoying, dumbfuck,” you spat, rolling your eyes a bit as you emit a quiet yawn. This frozen day was finding itself to be worse than you honestly expected it to. But you glanced over to see Nathan muted, simply staring at you wistfully. Likely waiting for a response. “...But fine, Holland, okay. I’ll ask Luke. But if he refuses, that’s completely beyond me.” 

“Fair enough then,” Nathan dropped before rising to his feet again. You felt his shadow cast on you once again, his eyes down on you as well as you merely looked up at the boy. “But I do expect you to try, you know.” 

“Ha,” you uttered dryly, watching as he turned the heel and escaped towards the hoard of people. 

Boys are stupid. Boys are stupid and obnoxious, and absolutely one of the things that you didn’t need. You didn’t need anyone, really. But it was really heartwarming to have the girls you did have around. And, you suppose you could give some credit to Luke for being considerate, even when he’s annoying, flirtatious, unnecessary, and moronic. 

“Y/N, you are right!” Des chirped, having you look up to see the 3 infamous ladies return with their papers. She quickly dropped herself beside her, her braids bouncing from the impact as she showed you her paper. “I’m with Calum!” 

“And I’m with Michael.” Savannah mewled with a fond tone. “And Alex got in with Ashton.” 

“Told you guys.” You allowed those girls to sit back in their seats and exchange bubbly words about the plans and what not. You’ll be reading Luke’s group schedule later as you were growing a slow and steady headache. Nathan and this entire keeping a secret was bothering you. Not because you felt guilty about not telling Luke, but feeling like an idiot to have Nathan know at all. You feel more like an idiot to fill yourself up with such strong poisons and lose your mind. 

I should’ve just walked alone from the party, you hummed to yourself. Not even-- I should’ve just not gone. Stupid Luke and his stupid ‘I owe you.’ 

“Ah- I’m in Luke’s group!” A shrill scream suddenly popped you from your self-loathe and discipline to look up and see Nadia wave her paper around in the middle of the gym. Chatter quieted down from this but they still resumed as she flaunted it about to the girls around. And, hilarious enough, the girls’ shoulders drop in disappointment, seeing as they likely wanted to be in his group, too. You shoulders only fell because Nadia was stuck in your group and you really didn’t want to be anywhere near her. The thought even impulsed you to deflate her just a bit. 

“Nobody fucking asked,” you said firmly, loud enough for the words to wash everyone over like a wave. The quiet chatter soon became almost silent whispers as Nadia turned over to you. Her red hair danced from the very action, her entire body swallowed up by a pink-like beige sweater and a brown skirt. She glared down at you, her poppy seed pupils dilating by the small shock that it was you who uttered the words. 

“Look who’s feeling bold today,” Nadia hummed, her 1-inch heels clinking upon the shiny floor as she began making her way to you. You looked up at her, entertained a bit as her shadow was slowly arriving to cast upon you. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you not get into his group?” 

“Sorry to burst your ego, Princess,” you spat, opening your paper to break the air to show it to her. “But I’m also in his group. I don’t give enough of a shit, and you have no reason to brag because that’s just you among the other 10 girls with us. So sit the fuck down, alright?” 

A few ‘ooo’s sounded, pairs of wide eyes and surprised expressions floating in your periphery as you looked up at the redhead. She looked a bit embarrassed, her cheeks lightly tainted pink as she waved your paper away. You put it down and shrugged, looking away to see your girlfriends look at you with surprised, wide smiles. 

“You’d best watch your tongue with me, Y/N,” Nadia growled, gritting her teeth together as she leered down at you. “I’ll make your camping time a living hell if you say anything smart like that.” 

“More of a hell than the one I’m currently living?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You then chuckled, looking down at the paper loosely between your fingers with delirium. “I’d honestly give you an applause if you could manage that.” 

“Is that a challenge I hear, Y/N?” Nadia hummed, haivng you look up to meet her eyes. Hers were dim, but yours held a dark intimidation that made her eyes flicker with hesitance. But she seemed determined, more or less, to fuck up your time. Before you could counter, Des quickly rose and placed her hands on her hips. 

“Bitch, I dare you to try it,” Des huffed, a splash of attitude leaving her tongue. “You touch my girl at all during that trip and I’ll personally stick your ass up in a tree for an entire damn night.” 

“Great, don’t tell me the ape is in our group, too,” Nadia slurred dreadfully, having you widen your eyes as Des was pulling up her sleeve to pack in a punch. But Savannah and Alex quickly got on their feet and grabbed her before she could dare do a thing. 

“You better watch yourself on that trip,” Des growled. “I may not be in your group, but my ass will switch if I gotta punch you mute.” You chuckled, shaking your head at Nadia’s audacity. You leered up, seeing how she glared down at you as if you’ve done wrong. Quietly, you crumpled the paper and stuffed it in your bag before forcing it on and getting yourself up. 

“I do really feel bad for you, you know,” you hummed as teachers quickly began to rush over to the scene. “I understand that you genuinely need attention to live, and that’s something you can’t help. But I think you shouldn’t do it by picking at others. Especially people who aren’t afraid to give it to you, because I know Des will punch you to another reality. Unless you’re a masochist, then please, be my guest. Fucking swine.” 

“Y/N, out,” a teacher scolded, having you shrug as you sauntered away from the girls and Nadia to leave the gym. Which was fine with you, really, as you didn’t like the smelly disgusting gym to begin with. But when the teacher escorted you out, you met eyes with the control in your mind. You groaned, rolling your eyes in actual disbelief as you began walking down the corridor. “Console your group member, Hemmings.” 

“Will do, sir,” Luke replied, his voice growing distant as you stomped away. You weren’t agitated, you were just pretending to be. Nadia was annoying, but it’s difficult to set you on the edge of vexation as you kept marching away. You could hear Luke’s kicks jog on the floor as his hand made it to your shoulder. “H-hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, actually,” you hummed. “Just pretending to be mad so the teachers think I’m an angry, troubled child.” 

“Okay, but why were you sent out?” Luke asked, his hand still on your shoulder. You were waiting for him to force you to face him, but he didn’t. He just kept his hand there, probably one of the most gentlest gestures you’ve ever actually received by a boy. 

“Ah, it was all Nadia, truly,” you hummed, listening to Luke groan in disappointment. “She began flaunting over the fact that she was in your group, so I told her that nobody asked and so she came over and started something. It was only right for me to continue feeding her energy to strengthen her pettiness. It’s like an RPG, Luke. You only get stronger if you fight.” 

“Yeah, but you do learn better strategically if you pull back from fights that you don’t need to take on,” Luke replied, having you shrug. It was a fair answer, you had to admit that much. Not that you’d tell him though, or else you’d be feeding to his ego. And God knows inflating that ego only made you wither. 

“Anyways, we argued some, I said a few bad words, and now I’m out here,” you spewed simply. You then turned, looking up to see strong jawline, sharp nose, blue-eyed devil Luke Hemmings stare down at you worriedly. You actually flinched, unsure as to how to take this. He needn’t words to get your heart racing, and that was something you weren’t too down about at the moment. 

“You better not be like that on the trip,” Luke warned softly, having you raise a brow up at the blonde before you. “I put her in our group because I thought it would be good if you two tried to get along.” 

“Me get along with Nadia?” You asked in genuine astonishment. “Has the Devil split the ground in two and risen from the deep depths of hell? Has God finally descended from the clouds to tell everyone? What is this life?” 

“Y/N, I’m serious,” Luke insisted, his frown deepening as he led you over to lean on the cold, metallic lockers. “I doubt you want to graduate knowing you had a grudge on someone.” 

“I don’t have a grudge on that imbecile,” you huffed. “She’s the one being a bitch to me and the least I can do is defend myself. What gives her the right to be a cunt to me when I haven’t even done a thing to her?” 

“You’re rather cold to her, Y/N--.” 

“You mean the way I act to everyone besides Sav, Des, and Alex?” You spat, leering up at the blonde. Luke gulped harshly, quickly quieting down as your point evidently dissolved into him. “I don’t need to get along with Nadia because I don’t need her in my life at all. So don’t start forcing me to do something that neither I nor her want.”

“I just want to help you--.” 

“Want to help?” You spat immediately, having Luke flinch, his face paling up as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, staring at him to allow the gears in your brain to turn. “Put Nathan in our group.” 

“What the fuck? No,” Luke immediately dismissed, having you scowl at him as he looked away, slightly vexed. There was something swimming in those ocean eyes, but you couldn’t really hint at it if they weren’t staring directly at you. “Absolutely fucking not.” 

“Excuse me, but I’d like to enjoy myself when we go to the forest,” you hummed. “I want him to swat away all the mosquitoes, or get stung by them instead of me. I’m sorry, but rashes aren’t my thing.” 

“I can do that for you!” Luke insisted. 

“You’re the leader, dumbass,” you huffed, shoving his chest gently. “They need to make sure you’re fine and running well-- you can’t be holed up taking stings for me. Just let Nathan do it so I come back rash-free.” 

“Y/N,” Luke growled. “He’s a nasty person, I don’t want him in my group spreading his bullshit around.” 

“He’s going to be pining over me, he’s not going to be spreading no bullshit.” 

“That makes me more adamant, Y/N,” Luke huffed, rolling his eyes while still refusing to face you. You sighed, annoying that you were forced to actually put in a good amount of effort into getting the other vexing person in your group. Clenching the hold of your bag, you rolling your eyes and stomped your foot. 

“Why do you even hate the guy?” You began. “Your jealousy over him is invalid, so something has to give. Why do you hate Nathan?” 

Luke tried to emit something in response, but found himself frozen and speechless. His upper, pasty cheeks tinted a light pink as he dragged his tongue along his rouge lips. You could see how hesitant his was, the distance in his eyes indicating how rapidly he had been thinking. They were even getting clouded before he crossed his arms over his chest in distress. 

“That’s not important right now,” Luke muttered sheepishly. 

“Right, okay,” you sarcastically replied, somewhat in disbelief from Luke’s stubbornness. “Just get him in our team.” 

“Or else what?” 

“Or else I’m going to tell you to fuck off the entire trip,” you threatened, having Luke’s eyes divert to yours (finally) to flare up in jealousy. “I’ll ignore you when we have breaks for chat, sit as far away from you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I won’t be bidding you goodnight before I sleep.” 

“Cruel!” Luke blurted, obvious pain dancing in his face as you shrugged. He knew he couldn’t test you, you’d keep your promise in your words. That’s just who you were, even if you didn’t exactly want to avoid Luke. His shoulders slumped, his blue eyes losing its color for a moment before letting out a strangled sigh. “Fucking fine, I’ll transfer him.” 

“Wait, seriously?” You hummed in disbelief, looking up to see disgust in his face as he nodded slowly. You swallowed, mouth a little dry as you chewed on your inner cheek. “Well shit, okay.” 

“But I’m never leaving you two alone,” Luke huffed angrily. “I don’t trust Holland, and I swear if he does anything with you--.” 

“Will you stick him up a tree for an entire night?” You questioned, reminding yourself of Des’ backlash with a smirk on your lips. Luke bit on his bottom lip, contemplating the finishing sentence as he nodded. 

“Sounds about right, yeah.” You giggled, having Luke raise an eye in puzzlement before shrugging it off. He lent you this extremely warm smile, one so gentle that it was intimidating. You looked away, letting out a small sigh as you allowed silence to seep in. But right then you decided to pop it. 

“Anyhow, thanks for the ‘scolding.’“ You curled both index and middle fingers you own in the air. “Can I go back now?” 

“Mm, I dunno,” Luke hummed, watching as he bent over and got his face close to yours. You stiffened, trying to counter his attempt to embarrass you by glaring at him. The tip of his nose was tempting to just meet with yours, knowing that if he did, a spark will somehow surge through and make you jump. “I don’t like it when you’re not around.” 

“That sucks,” you huffed. “You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” I don’t like it when you’re not around. Luke honestly couldn’t give your head or heart an actual break. How inconsiderate. 

“I already do when you’re not,” Luke hummed woefully. Trickles of vexation surged through when listening to his down tone. You didn’t like it, it was too unlike him. “I’m supposed to be in the gym now anyways” 

“Yeah?” 

“Gotta flaunt my leadership and meet all the members,” Luke hummed. “I chose some pretty chill people, so you shouldn’t be too bothered or irritated by them.” 

“Oh geez, did you select them in my favor?” You wondered, “because I’d definitely have to counter that, considering Nadia is in our group.” Luke was quick to bring his hand to the nape of his neck to give his lower curls a scratch. 

“Like I said, it’d be good if you guys could try and get along,” Luke hummed awkwardly. You looked into his azure eyes long and good, flickering your pupils about as he stares directly back. But his irises slowly thin with the widening of his own pupils, having them a little shaky. You were grasping at possible guesses, hoping to find a better reason than the one he insists. 

“Is it because you feel bad for her?” You hummed, looking ponderously in his eyes. The oceans dim, his pupils divert itself elsewhere awkwardly, “oh, that must be it! I wonder why...” you practically sang, going up to catch Luke’s chin with your hand. His eyes go back into yours, lightening up only a tad, “If you’re gonna lie, at least give me a good, believable reason as to why you’d add the Devil reincarnated into our team.” 

“You’re quite good at digging, aren’t you?” Luke praised, evidently a little vexed at your skill. You smiled in triumph, letting him go to back up from him once more. 

“Years of practice,” you murmured, not too fond of the skill but just enough. Pursing your lips together, you studied Luke for a moment before looking back at the menacing gym doors. You changed your demeanor and quickly pulled in the Puppy Eyes, “wanna get out of here?” 

Luke got easily caught,  his heart halting at the very sight of you. You had plead and beg in those mystery swirls, not caring if it seemed so unlike you. It was so unlike, but you have to do some hard shit to get what you want sometimes. And if this was it, you were more than prepared to do something so simple and only slightly degrading. But Luke easily succumbed, “destination?” 

“Away from the gym,” you murmured, having Luke look at you skeptically. But it was obvious he was surprised at your question. Him out of all people? You’d rather go somewhere with one of the girls. But Luke had a bit of superiority now, so you figured he’d be able to get you out of the tiring confines of that gym. “Just follow my lead, yeah?” 

“Y/N, what’re you--.” Before he could do anything, you began to yell. 

“She’s such a fucking bitch, I can’t handle her!” You growled, your face grimacing with pure heat in your words and eyes. A few teachers idling about looked over worriedly, eyes peering in curiosity. Luke widened his eyes, quickly putting his hands on your shoulders as if to hold me back. “Let me go back in there and give her a damn smack on the mouth! Disrespectful bitch!” 

“Uh-- calm down, Y/N!” Luke spoke over you, a little awkward at first but assertive. It was believable enough, you thought, as you continued shifting angrily in his hands. You did press pressure, requiring the appearance to make the teachers actually believe it as the assistant principal got close. 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Hemmings?” Her voice rang, having Luke nod as he continued to hold you. You allowed searing growls to leave you, leering at the teacher to have her flinch only slightly. It was amusing to be considered a cold being around the joint. 

“Yes, it’s alright,” Luke hummed, “but I think I need to chat with her for a moment. Mind getting another professor to go over the schedule with my group? I really need to speak to Y/N as she disagrees with the selection of my team.” 

The teacher merely nods, having Luke nod from his glance before turning back to you. You continued to act rabid, having Luke grab you by the wrist and begin tugging you out of the hallway. You made sure a string of curses stayed behind your legacy as Luke dragged you away. As he did, you looked at his sturdy back and noticed a paper stickied onto it. No fucking way... 

Removing it from his back without him noticing, you jog behind him with your freehand, you shakily open the note and reveal its contents. 

‘I’m a huge cryer. Once I had been away from my mom for about 2 days, and I had sobbed within the first 3 hours of the trip. It’s really bad, but I just miss people a lot when I’m away from those I love -H’ 

He’s adorable, you thought to yourself as you stuffed the note into your pocket. It was annoying that you didn’t know who he was, but learning about him through these small notes was fascinating. You were discovering a real person, either some shy boy who was this cute, or a jock who keeps these as secrets from the public view. It just made you so curious as to who this person was, and it itched at your mind. 

A question though: how the fuck did he get the note attached to the back of Luke R. Hemmings? 

“Hey,” you sounded to Luke, who continued to lead you away. But he slowed down when far enough, having you appreciate the gesture greatly. “Where are we off to?” 

“Away,” Luke replied, having you take the answer as you let him take you to wherever away was. 

You found yourself in your English class, vacant with papers and chewed up yellow pencils sprawled about. 

“I hate this class,” you hummed, slowly sauntering over to the fern chalkboard as Luke walked along the rows of tables by the door. Your fingertips dragged along the words, taking away the colored chalk in the letters and words jumbled about, leaving dashes and holes all around. “I love English, but this class is so slow that I’m ahead,” you hummed, looking around to see the big lesson soon which is ‘Love prevails all.’ 

“Keep in mind that you’re you and everyone else isn’t,” Luke said fondly through chuckles, “everyone else doesn’t have such a smart, easily interpretative brain like yours, Y/N. You’re far too unique to be in the crowd of copies.” You smiled at this curtly, still staring at the green entity to conceal it from his view. 

“I try,” you admit, bringing your hand before you to see your fingers dirtied with the white powder. “But sometimes I do wonder at what cost...” 

“Elaborate?” Luke asked kindly, always willing to lend ears. 

“I mean,” you began, clearing your throat a bit, “I’m very happy to be where I am currently with 3 amazing people as my friends, but they’re always out having a blast at those social gatherings while I keep my face stuck in a textbook.” 

“Nn,” Luke hummed in comprehension, “so you think you’re missing out?” You nodded, looking distantly at the small bookshelf that was at the end of the chalkboard by the windows. “It’s too late to get out there, you know.” 

You scoffed, smiling a bit at his words, “you’re far too optimistic, Luke. We’re already in our senior year-- my 3 years are spent and my last one is already looking to be spent.” 

“That’s because you’re trying too hard in a year that doesn’t matter so much,” Luke snorted, having you immediately snap your neck to face the blonde boy by the back of the classroom. 

“Pardon you, but I’m trying to get myself in a good university,” you snapped, “it doesn’t matter if my grades ‘don’t count’ this year. I’m always going to do my best, to not only prove it to everyone else but to myself. To prove that while everyone else is the same, I’m... different.” 

“Weren’t you just complaining about that?” Luke hummed curiously, having you look away again, studying the textbooks collecting dust, “the only rabbit in the turtle race.” 

“Well, I want to be a little both?” You chimed almost suggestively, “I mean, I definitely won’t let go of my studies for even a second, but maybe I can let loose just for a few hours every weekend? Not so late like your venue concert, but I mean, just a bit of time away from home. B-but I also don’t to seem like a slacker or some party animal...” 

“I kind’ve get what you mean,” Luke began quietly, having you glance over to see him saunter to your desk, “like that’s the side of you that you want to keep and have it exist but not be the entirety of you.” You gave Luke a lingering stare, seeing the way he looked wistfully at your desk and brushed his fingertips along the scratched in gang names and doodles. 

“R-right, yeah,” you sputtered, somewhat surprised at how understanding Luke was. It was like he himself was in the same shoes, but that couldn’t be possible, could it? He was the popular guitar player in a band who goes to parties and has girls constantly swooning over him. He indulges in attention and is said to be the life of every party he steps one single foot in. “Does that sound crazy or somethin...”

“I think it’s cool,” Luke mumbles genuinely, his tender words quickly making your heart race, “you want to stay true to yourself to everything while still experiencing something that’s out of your comfort. It’s really rad, ‘n I respect that.” 

You smiled at this, feeling a little better as you slowly made your way towards the boy, “you’re actually not that bad, Hemmings.” This quickly caught Luke’s attention as he snapped his neck and had his blue eyes widened and fixed on you. No words came through just yet, but his bewilderment was quite the sight, “chillax, I’m just saying you aren’t as much of an ass as you always act.” 

“N-no it’s not that,” Luke stuttered, both large hands covering his face as he looked away. You stayed at his back, confused as those curls perfectly fell down the nape of his pale neck. You wondered what happened, wanting to step closer without stepping on a border. “It’s unusual for you to be candid in such a sweet way-- it caught me a little off guard.” 

“Don’t get used to it,” you huffed, “it’s not gonna happen often, and this might end up being a one time thing.” Then, suddenly, Luke chuckled after your words, and you couldn’t help but lighten up. His laughter was always so gentle and warm, like a morning dew of a summer morning, with bells dancing along with the wind current.

“I won’t,” Luke assured, turning around to show his cheeks only a little bit tinted with pink, “but I like this you-- this raw version. Just makes me fall even deeper.” 

“Fucks sake,” you scoffed, looking away to shake your head in disapproval, “don’t even begin with calling me candid when you’re especially so. You’re not in love with me.” 

Luke let that hang for a moment, having you feel his blue eyes stare at you as he held a smirk. You looked over at the window beside your seat, reminding yourself of the stalker. The Note Tree, the assumed title of the song this random boy wrote for you. Always changed, 30+ days worth of one lyric change that had always kept you wondering how his eyes was always on you but you could never coincidentally meet them. You emit a sigh, somewhat vexed at everything and the stalker and the boy before you with a warm smile and beautiful ocean eyes. 

“That sucks,” Luke hummed, “because I am very much in love with you and proud to be incredibly deep in. I’m practically by the center of the earth-- it’s beyond boiling point.” You shook your head, chuckling at how much of a dork he was. 

“So what should I do about it?” You sounded, rolling your eyes over to see him gnawing on his bottom rouge lip. You wondered curiously at his face, seeing how he hasn’t even faltered a single bit. 

“You’re a good digger, aren’t you?” Luke pointed out, “dig me out.” 

“Oh yeah?” You made your voice just a bit higher, with your eyebrows following and your eyes meeting his with annoyance. “How do I do that? My personality is one that makes everyone run away so I have no idea how to dig you out.” 

“Well, that’s the thing then, isn’t it?” Luke said quietly with a curt, kind smile, “you can’t. Your digging skills only reside in things you know, but you can’t understand my love for you. So there’s nothing you can do but make me sink deeper and deeper,” Luke spewed with more passion, moving closer to you, and oh my, “until my heart is bruised with your name. It’ll throb lovingly with eternal colors that I’ve only seen when I’m with you or you’re dancing about in my head.” 

“I...” you began, looking away completely. You were flushed. Red-faced, red tinted, completely scarlet with no control whatsoever. That asshole is absolutely impossible. “...Fuck off, Luke.” You shoved him back, getting out a few entertained laughs from the blond dolt. 

“Never,” Luke practically sung, having you grumble as you took a seat on the desk in front of yours and leaned your back against the closed window. Luke followed, hopping on your desk as you looked distantly at the empty hall through the door. He noticed the wistful expression on your face and spewed quietly, “you okay, Y/N?” 

“Mind singing me a little something?” You immediately replied, indirectly looking over to see his feet move forwards and backwards like he were on a swing. They suddenly halted from your words though, as you felt his eyes likely on you. He was silent, speechless possibly, “what’s wrong? Can’t do it without your guitar?” 

“N-no,” Luke stuttered, his hands clenching around the edges of the desk as he sat forward with his lanky back slouched. “It’s just... didn’t think you’d ever ask me to sing you something.” 

“Want me to take it back?” You threatened. 

“No!” He immediately stopped you, having you smirk as you began twiddling your thumbs. You didn’t say anything further, having Luke guess to sing anything he’d like. You don’t have requests so long as you heard his voice. His singing voice is not bad, you honestly admitted. “You’re dripping like a saturated sunri-hiiise--” He chose Halsey, what a guy, “-you’re spilling like an overflowing sink. You’re ripped at every edge, but you’re a master piece, and now I’m tearing through the pages and the ink-- come in with me, Y/N!” 

“I don’t sing,” you exclaimed in slight bewilderment, looking over to see pure optimism and encouragement. “I’m not that like, good...” 

“But I don’t care,” Luke hummed, having you frown, “I want to hear all of you, every single way you can use your voice. So singing is one.”

“You pervert, that consists of a lot of sound I can make--.” 

“Everything is blue!” Luke sang-screamed, having you flinch, but giggle it out before joining him. “His pills, his hands, his jeans. And now I’m covered in the colors pull apart at the seams-- continue it for me, Y/N.” 

“I swear to god, Luke--.”

“Y/N.” 

“And it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo,” you sang the stretched out word, having you feel completely embarrassed as you sung, “and it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo...” 

“Everythin’ is grey-- his hair, his smoke, his dreams,” Luke sang, his voice raspy and pure, completely raw and absolutely doesn’t need a guitar to help him sound better. He was fantastic, as he deserves to think and know so. “And now he’s so devoid of color-- he don’t know what it means! And he’s blue.... yeah, he’s blue...” 

“You were red,” you began with the bridge, your voice as dramatic as it could be as Luke began to sputter out laughter. You clenched your chest with your hands, “and you liked me because I was blue...” 

“Then you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky!” Luke yelled with you, the both of you raising your arms with glee as you turned to face each other. “But then you decided purple just wasn’t for you.” 

“And it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo,” Luke finished quietly, refusing to go through the whole chorus yet again as you stared at him wistfully. It’s those kind of moments you dream of having: the ones where you can be absolutely silly with another who is just as silly and indulging in it completely. But it’s with Luke and somehow you aren’t mad about it. You’re looking into those blue eyes and noticed just how blue they were. And by God, they were so blue-- so blue that you could fucking drown in them and you had high doubts that Luke had his lifeguard license. 

“Ah, sorry...” you quickly spewed an apology, looking away to distantly return yourself to the vacant corridor. But Luke only let out another laugh, one more lower and genuine, so warm and tender that it greeted your heart kindly with a dose of adrenaline. 

“And you still wonder why I love you?” Luke began, scoffing in disbelief as your cheeks flared up in scarlet. “Can this be our song? So when we get married, we can play it and remember this day.” 

“Luke!” You exclaimed, slamming down on the wooden table. “Slow your damn horses-- you’re way too optimistic about your future.” 

“I don’t think it’s optimism,” Luke said honestly with a smirk. You turned to stare at him, seeing the way he looked up distantly to the ceiling, his blue orbs still. “I know what I want in my future, and I know I want you innit all, through-and-through.”

You allowed the silence to take you over, as you were at a loss of words. So much so that you adjusted your bag on you bag and hopped off the desk. Luke followed, refusing to utter a word as you gestures to the space before you. 

“Y/N?” 

“Grab my wrist and walk us back to the gym please,” you murmured, shyly unfurling your hand as you offered it to him. You could tell he was a bit awestruck, considering this was very out of your nature. But Luke had just done something that you will never forget, even if you wanted to, and somehow-- somehow, you aren’t angry at all. 

“You’re so sly,” Luke chuckled out, his hands with mountains of callouses and rough skin taking your wrist. It was a more delicate hold, much more gentle and not rushed. It felt really sweet and genuine, like he was savoring it all. “Let’s go.”

With that, you allowed the blonde-haired monster take you away, fully flushed and unable to shake off the sudden new speed your heart took on. 

you already know what to do, inbox is right here and please don’t hate me for the super slow updates aha xx 

[lynesonline]

Munchausen Syndrome

A Surgeon’s Blade

William Lynes, MD

November 29, 2019

Night call was hectic, little sleep to be had.  A new day and as usual, Jackson Cooper, MD. anticipated another long busy one.  At task presently, consults from hospital services asking for urologic evaluation.  As junior resident on the University Medical Center urology service, he was responsible for timely completion of these hospital urology assessments.  

He stood that morning in the urology resident’s office, a cramped crowded room filled with three old wooden desks, a well-used pot of burnt tasting coffee, and a wall of incoming department mail niches.  Consults were recorded by the department secretary in a small tattered ring binder which was jammed into the lower corner slot.  Three new consults filled the book, a full morning of labor for the overworked urology resident.  

Jackson stood just under six feet tall, with a messy head of brown hair in need of a cut.  He had, some would say, friendly, smoky blue eyes covered with heavy brown rimmed aviator shaped glasses.  He was dressed in an alternative uniform to the common surgical scrubs, a button-down white shirt, blue and white stripped hastily tied tie, and brown corduroy cuffed pants covered with the usual white coat.  He stood with style however, in his signature scuffed carrot colored iguana cowboy boots.  

The resident sighed when he thought of the work before him.  He read from the binder of consults.  There was a 75-year-old male with a history of prostate cancer, a pediatric cancer patient with nighttime wetting or enuresis, and lastly a 45-year-old female with a persistent urinary tract infection (UTI) and fever.  Clinic would begin in just one hour, so he would have to get moving, each of these three patients waiting to be seen.  He decided to work from the end of the list, tackling first the UTI in a woman named Gloria Sands on the internal medicine service.

He was soon to be off to complete his task, a ritual however, needed to begin the day.  Jackson looked over his shoulder, confirming that he was alone.  On the floor by the corner desk sat a brown leather attaché case with a candy red stripe.  He lifted the case, a Christmas gift from his sister, and opened the briefcase with a pop.  Retrieving a large prescription bottle, he opened the vial, shook out and downed two oval white tablets.  Here in lay the ritual, he turned the bottle in his hand and read silently the pharmacy label.  Dated one year before in the summer of 1982, the bottle was marked as containing the opioid Percocet.

Gloria Sands was a plump round woman with an asymmetrical short bob of dirty blonde hair.  She possessed close-set hazel colored eyes which seemed too small for her face.  She covered them with a pair of green and black leopard pattern cat shaped glasses secured with a pearl beaded eyeglass chain.   When Jackson entered the room, she was very involved, laughing and occasionally applauding, the wall-mounted television broadcast of Jeopardy.

“Ms. Sands.  I am Dr. Cooper from the urology department.  Your doctor, Dr. Fitzgerald, asked me to review your case.”  Jackson reached and shook the preoccupied woman’s hand, pulled up a chair and sat at the bedside.  “Now I understand that you have been having fevers for a couple of weeks, is that right?”  The patient continued to be distracted, continually glancing at the broadcast and seeming to not listen.  Jackson reached for the off switch on the set.  “Can I shut this off?”

Gloria eventually looked at the resident, first at his nametag and then his face.  Grudgingly she said: “yeah . . . yes . . . sure . . .I don’t care.  What was your name?”

“Dr. Cooper.  From urology.  Now, I understand that you have been having fevers for a couple of weeks.”

Gloria slipped her glasses off, letting them hang on her chest.  “Yes . . . my Mr. Whiskers . . .I found Mr. Whiskers on the kitchen floor.  Fevers, I’ve had a fever ever since then.”

“Mr. Whiskers?  Who’s Mr. Whiskers?”

“My cat, Mr. Whiskers is my cat.”

“Your cat?  Was your cat dead?”

“Absent . . . I prefer the term absent, Jackson.”

Jackson let the use of his first name ride for the time being.  At least she didn’t call him Jack, his dreaded nickname.  “I’m confused, what did the cat have to do with the fever?  Do you know, Ms. Sands?”

“I don’t really know.  Isn’t that what you are supposed to tell me?”

“So, you’ve been having fevers, every day since the . . . since the absent cat was noted?”

Gloria nodded a bored yes.  She was still distracted, making little eye contact.  “You know fevers, I get them all the time Jackson.”

“Cooper . . . it’s Dr. Cooper.”  The interview continued.  She had been having some burning with urination as well.  She indicated the past history of many urinary infections, somehow always related to her cat’s health it seemed.  Jackson finished up a few questions for the patient, excused himself and made his way to the nursing station.

Jackson looked for the patient’s old chart which would indicate any prior medical visits or hospitalizations.  Filed in an old gray file cabinet in the S’s was an empty folder labeled with the patient’s name.  Ms. Sands had never been seen before.  He looked at the ongoing in-patient hospital chart.  Her urine had an E. coli bacterium in it.  The bacteria was sensitive to the IV antibiotics that the patient had been on for one week.  He looked at her vital sign record.  For the last two weeks a daily temperature fever spike of 102 to 103-degrees Fahrenheit was recorded.  If in fact she had a urinary tract infection, any associated fever would typically be resolved with adequate antibiotics in less than three days.  Given her urine culture and IV antibiotics, she should have been without a fever at this time.  Complicated UTIs with either a kidney abscess, or obstruction of the ureter, the tube connecting the kidney and bladder, could explain the persistence of fever.  He would check her x-rays and present the patient to his attending physician.

#

           They met each early AM five days a week in one of the classrooms at the university, complete with rows of metal folding chairs, an old wooden podium, and a huge urn of brewing bitter tasting coffee.  Lee W. Hickok, MD. poured himself some in a Styrofoam cup with LWH carved into the side and walked to the front of the room.  “Hello, I’m Lee W., and I am an alcoholic.”  The man was in his forties, with dark brown hair highlighted on the temples with gray and wearing round glasses. He was dressed in a brown plaid sportscoat topping another pair of distinctive cowboy boots, shiny black and snakeskin in construction. He went on to introduce the meeting, speaking with a suggestion of a southern accent.  

           “We have business this morning.  Teddy is going to make the report.”

           A large male nurse dressed in a white tunic stood and approached the podium.  “Hello group.  I am Teddy and I am an alcoholic and a drug addict.”

           “Hello, Teddy,” the audience recited in unison.  

           The man began a presentation of local fund-raising activities for that month.  He reported as a treasurer, mentioning monies coming in and going out.  Karen was next, a neatly dressed woman of fifty or so, in a conservative skirt and high-heel shoes.  “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”  An Alcoholic Anonymous meeting then proceeded with mention of the twelve steps, and a short testimony about his life of alcoholism from a tall black cafeteria employee.

           After a short break, Lee W. Hickok returned to the podium.  “Well, ya’ll, you have the unfortunate distinction of having myself to give the long testimonial.  I am Lee W. and I am an alcoholic.”

           “Hello Lee W.”

“I stole my step-father’s Dr. Crow’s bourbon whiskey and drank each day under the porch when I was twelve.”   Lee W. took a handwritten notepaper out of his pocket, balled it up and threw his prepared talk across the room for effect.  

“He beat me, quite a bit for that and anything else he could think of.  Drinking, I can honestly say, was the only thing that brute handed down to me.  Soon, I couldn’t live without it.  I drank daily and frequently, heck I drank all the time, really since that day.  She was killed in front of me, my Mother.  She had taken me away from him in the dead of night.  They were fighting again; he was a rough one.  He broadsided us at the intersection.  I still see her dead eyes and blood soaked face in my dreams.”

Lee W. described a life of alcoholism, carousing and drugs.  At one point he withdrew himself from the alcohol, treating the resulting DT’s or delirium tremens with an IV and valium.  His sobriety did not last.  

“I was sober on and off for just a year after that.  Drinking again, it became my tool.  I am a surgeon, and not proud to say I was drunk during my medical practice and most of my surgeries.  I dabbled with cocaine and tried to kill myself after my wife Amber left me last summer.”  Lee W. held up his healed forearm laceration for all to see.

“I am sober now for fourteen months.  It has been 421 days now.  But for God, I would not be here today.  My life is truly one day at a time.”

#

He was just leaving the meeting when his pager went off.  “This is Dr. Hickok, I was paged.”

“Lee W., it’s Jackson.  Are you the unlucky attending on call today?”

“Hell yeah.  Y’all got something for me?”  Lee W.’s life was so refreshed now that he was sober. He looked happy for the phone call, like he was anxious for a medical problem to solve.

“Just three consults.  I need to present them to you, though.”

“Can y’all meet me in my office?”

Lee W. Hickok was a newly appointed associate professor of urology at the University Medical Center in northern California.  The university was a private institution, well respected as a leader in modern American medicine.  His office, however, did little to reinforce the importance of his position.  It was a cramped, crowded eight by ten-foot room, the door opening into the department’s small kitchen.  An IBM XT personal computer and a large dot-matrix printer filled an old oak desk which dominated the room.  

Jackson arrived as the attending urologist was just opening the office door.  “Grab us a couple of coffee’s my fellow tee-totaler.  And remember fondly as you pour it of adding just a drop of the good stuff, for me.”

Jackson turned and moved to the coffee urn in the resident’s office.  He wasn’t quite sure about the Texan’s last remark.  Yes, Jackson was a tee-totaler, a recovering narcotic addict.  Lee W. was supposedly a sober alcoholic.  Last year, during Jackson’s surgery internship he had drank with Lee W. in that same office and yes, he had added a shot or two to the man’s coffee on more than one occasion.  Guess he is just reminiscing, he thought.  Before he left with the coffee, Jackson quickly opened his attaché case.  He grabbed the prescription bottle and shoved it into his white coat pocket.

Lee W. was sitting back in his office chair, his black booted feet up on the edge of his cramped desk.  A smiley logo screen-saver circled harmlessly on the computer screen.  Jackson handed the porcelain cup to the man, and pulled a cardboard box full of books over, sat and drank his coffee.

“Did you freshen this up for me?”  Lee W. sipped the hot brew loudly, a sly smile on his face.

“Yeah, Lee W., sweet amber just as you like it.”  Jackson put his cup on the edge of the desk.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the prescription bottle.  He shook out two oval white tablets and threw them into his mouth.  “You want a couple?”

Lee W. placed his feet on the ground.  He had a curious look on his face.

“Here, they’re just Tic-Tacs!”  Jackson shook a couple of the breath mints into the Texan’s hand.  “I keep this bottle.  It helps.”  He went on to read the prescription on the bottle.  “Percocet . . .dispense one-hundred.  One or two orally every three to four hours as needed for pain.  It’s dated June 23, 1982.”

“One year ago, I see.  Jackson, these are the most delicious Tic Tacs.  You’re a strong man, my friend.”

The disposition of two of the consult patients were decided in Lee W.’s office.   Mr. Simpson was a 75-year-old black male with wide spread metastatic prostate cancer on the internal medicine service.  He was suffering with horrible pain from the boney spread of his cancer.  Dr. Charles Huggins won the 1966 Nobel prize for his revolutionary finding that removing the testicles and any source of testosterone in patient’s like this put the great majority into a temporary remission.  Jackson would arrange an OR time this week to perform a bilateral orchiectomy, a surgical removal of the man’s testicles.

Kenny Tobias was a six-year-old male boy with leukemia.  He was on the oncology service and receiving chemotherapy.  He had a problem with nighttime wetting, or enuresis, however.  

“Should we start him on Tofranil, Lee W.?”  Tofranil was an oral medication that relaxed the bladder.   Taken at bedtime, it was effective commonly in enuresis.

Lee W. reached to his desk drawer and withdrew a xeroxed medical article.  “Here’s what we’re going to do for that child, y’all.”  He tossed the article into Jackson’s lap.  Highlighted in yellow was the article’s title: Treatment of Persistent Enuresis with Desmopressin Nasal Spray.  “It’s new, Y’all.  It’s also called DDAVP or desmopressin.  It is a nasal spray that cuts down on the kidney’s production of urine at night.  It has much less side-effects than Tofranil.”

Lee W. wanted to go and see the UTI patient with persistent fever, Gloria Sands.  Her problem was that she continued to spike daily fevers after seven days of intravenous antibiotics.  

“She relates this fever to the death of her cat, Lee W!  The cat’s name was Mr. Whiskers.  She found him dead on the kitchen floor, and she has had a fever ever since.  There is something peculiar about her, however.  Sort of distracted.  Just a touch odd, I think.”

At the patient’s door Jackson handed the vital sign sheet to the Lee W.  “See,” Jackson said pointing to the graphic tracing of her temperature.  “She spikes a 102 to 103 fever each day at three PM.  You know, Lee W., now that I look at this again, that’s just after shift change!”  

Lee W. looked at his watch.  “That’s in thirty minutes Jackson.  Let’s go see her.”

The bedside curtain was drawn when the two made their way into the patient’s room.  The television was blasting a daytime soap of some sort.  The room was dark, all lights turned off.  Jackson pulled back the curtain slowly.  “Ms., Sands, it’s Dr. Cooper.”  

“Stay out, you troll!” the patient yelled.  

Jackson had already pulled the curtain.  Before the two was the patient, sitting with the head of the bed drawn up.  She was busy fumbling with her left arm and IV site.  Jackson grabbed her arm.  She was just in the process of injecting a syringe into the injection port of the intravenous line.  He removed the syringe and stood looking at the woman, incredulous.

“That’s mine, Jack!”  The patient was roused, she quickly stood at the bedside and wrestled Jackson for the syringe.  

Jackson grabbed both arms of the thrashing woman.  Lee W. stepped beyond the woman and reached into an open bedside drawer.  Within was a specimen cup of clear fluid.  In the bottom was debris, brown and green leafy material.

The woman started crying.  “That’s my stuff now leave!  Rape!  Rape!”  The woman stomped her feet jumping back into the bed.  She pulled the sheet over her face.  “Leave me alone you rapists.”

Two nurses hurried into the room.  “Dr. Hickok, what’s happening?”

Jackson and Lee W. left the crying woman with the nurses.  They moved to the hallway and eventually sat in the nursing station.  

“That’s stool,” Lee W. said.  He held the container up to the light shaking it gently, the debris in the bottom now dispersed through the liquid.  

Jackson took the container from Lee W.  He compared the syringe to the fluid in the specimen jar.  The two looked identical.  “What the heck?”

“She injects her own stool into her IV.  There is your source of fever, Jackson.”

“Munchausen, she’s a Munchausen, Lee W.!”

Baron von Munchausen was an 18th century German officer who was known for embellishing the stories of his life and experience.  Munchausen syndrome is the most severe type of factitious disorder in which a person repeatedly and deliberately acts as if he or she has a physical or mental illness when he or she is not really sick. Munchausen syndrome is considered a mental illness because it is associated with severe emotional difficulties.  

Gloria Sands left the hospital quickly.  She refused to sign her against medical advice (AMA) forms.  Knowing the course of Munchausen syndrome patients, her appearance in other medical institutions with identical claims was likely. 

William Lynes, MD

November 29,2019 

[dc-marvel-life]

Too Much Stress is Bad

Request by anon -  Hey! I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write a story where Jason and the reader are dating and the reader finds out he is cheating on her and they break up then some disaster happens then they get back together maybe some fluff and angst I’m sorry if it’s too much

Paring: Jason x reader  

Word Count: 2894

Warnings: Angst, I think like one or two curse words, mentions of sex, and my bad writing

a/nFeedback would be nice

For the past two month you have not been feeling like yourself. You have been feeling nauseous and bloated. When you drive to work, at the hospital, you get motion sickness. You had been getting random hot and cold flashes. You even been having mood swings and snapping at your boyfriend, Jason. You just thought that is was the flu that was going around. You have been taking on more shift because the hospital is under staff because of the flu. And since you been taking on more shifts, you have not been able to see Jason as much as you like.

But lately you guys had arguing over the little things, like how he needs to pick up his socks off the floor or how he needs to put the toilet seat down when he is done in the bathroom, or you guys argue other big things, like you taking on more shifts or not having sex. You guys have not had sex in two months because you have not been in the mood, and he just gets fed up by it. Sometimes after arguing he just storms out of your guys shared apartment for hours at a time, and does not come back until early in the morning. You just think that he is off being Red Hood to blow off some steam, boy you were wrong.  

Now you are at work on you lunch break talking to your best friend about everything that is going on. “I think maybe you guys should go away for the week. You know just to get away from everything and everyone.” Your best friend said. “I don’t know. Jason and I got into another argument last night over how he has not been able to see me as much because of work, and after the argument he stormed out and I have not seen him since.” you said trying to keep your head up. You have been feeling light headed all day, but you had to ignore it because you have a lot of patients to attend to. “Don’t worry it is going- Are you OK Y/N?” Your best friend said. The last thing you remember is them running up to you, and then everything went dark after that.

You woke up in a hospital bed with a headache and an IV in your arm. You push the call button to the nurse station and a fellow nurse came in right after. “Hello nurse Y/L/N, how are you feel?” the nurse that you never seen before said. You thought it was weird because you knew all the nurses on the third floor. “I doing fine, just a little headache. Where am I?” you said. “Well you are at Gotham General-” “No, I know that, but where in the hospital am I?” you said cutting her off. “Oh! You are in the maternity wing.” the nurse said with a smile. “What! Why am I in the maternity wing!” You said.

“Well you passed out because you putting too much stress on the baby. You need to start cutting back your hours here. Too much stress on the baby is bad.” the nurse said. “I am pregnant!? How far along am I!?.” You said. “You are ten week along now.” the nurse said. After she said that you started to cry, not sad crying but happy crying. “I am having a baby!” you said with a smile on your face. “I am going to be a mother oh my god! I going to be a mother and Jason is going to be- Jason. I need to go and tell him! Can I leave now!?” you ask the nurse with a smile on your face. “Yes you can, but you have to promise me that you are going to take it easy for now on. No more taking extra shifts. Too much stress is bad for the baby. Oh and here is the ultrasound.” the nurse said while handing you the ultrasound. “OK I will and thank you!” you said rushing out to get home to tell Jason.

You went to tell your boss that you weren’t feeling so good, and that you needed to going home. He understood and was nice enough to give you the rest of the week off. On your way out, you ran into your best friend. “Y/N where are you going in such a rush. You still can be sick. I don’t want you to pass out in the middle of the road and get hit by a car.” you best friend said. “No I am not sick, I am just pregnant.” you said with a smile on your face. “OMG really!” “Yes I am. Oh here is the ultrasound.” you said hand them the photo. “OMG! I am so happy for you. Are you going to tell Jason now!” your best friend said jumping up and down with excitement. “Yes I am going now.” “OK, OK. Go on now. Go tell you man that you guys are having a baby!” your best friend screamed while jumping up and down.  

You hopped inside of you car, and drove to your apartment. All you could think about was the baby and how you were going to tell Jason. ‘How could I have not known that I was pregnant. I am a nurse for crying out loud’ you thought on the ride to your home. You parked your car in your normal parking spot and ran up the stairs with the ultrasound in hand.

Once you got to your door you pulled out your keys, and open the door. Once you open the door you saw Jason’s duffel bag on the floor, so you knew that he was home. You looked around and you didn’t see him in the kitchen or the living room, so thought he was in the bedroom. You started to walk to the bedroom, but you stopped once you heard a noise, it was moaning. “Yes Jason yes” was all that you could hear. You stood there for awhile until you started to feel something wet on your arm, you were crying. You wiped your face because you didn’t want them to see you cry, and you open the door.

When you open the door you saw Jason naked on top of a naked blonde. You clear your throat and they both jump ten feet in the air trying to cover themselves. “What are you doing here so early” was all Jason said to you. “Really that is what you are going to ask when you are in MY bed with another woman!” you scream at Jason. “Baby who is that?” the blonde said. “Oh so she had a nickname for you Jason. What kind of one night- What!? How long has this been going on Jason!” you said trying to hold back your tears. “Y/N let me explain-” “ No, tell me now. How long Jason” you said cutting him off. “Two months” he mumble. By this time you crying. You put the ultrasound in your back pocket so he doesn’t see it.

Jason got out of bed and put on his underwear on. He started to walk up to you and you started to back up and left the room. “Wait Y/N, let me explain on what happen.” “What do you need to explain!? Do you need to explain on how you cheated on me for the past two months!? Do you need to explain on how you lied to my face for the past two months!? Do you need to explain how we had been together for three years and now you want to cheat on me!? Is this even the first time you cheated on me!?” you said getting angrier and angrier. You had to stop yourself because you were feeling a little headed, and you started to hold your stomach protectively. “No! Look this is the only time I have every I cheated on you since we been together. Look I only did it because you have not been in the mood lately and I have-” “Let me stop you right there! You cheated on me because you have not been having sex!?” you said cutting him off again. “Yes” he said mumbling while he was looking at the floor.  

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you decided to leave. You took your purse and ran down the stairs has fast as you could because Jason followed you out of the apartment. You went to your car and look through your purse for your keys, but it was hard because your eyes were filled with tears. Once you finally found your keys, Jason already caught up to you. “Y/N-” “No you have no right to talk to me right now! Look I just need some time to myself OK!” you said with more tear coming down your face. He let you go even though that was the hardest thing he had to do in his life. You got in your car and drove away.

You just started to drive. You don’t even know where, you just started to drive. Then you heard your phone vibrating, you looked and it was your best friend. You went to grab the phone, but it fell in on the ground. You went to go pick it up until you heard a car horn got off. You looked up and it was for the guy next you because they cut another person off, that is what is looked like to you. ‘That was a close one’ you thought to yourself. You stop at a stoplight and pull out the ultrasound picture. You just sat there looking at the picture and thinking that you could do these, and that you need to relax. Just like the nurse said too much stress is bad-

After you left Jason in the parking garage, he felt like he just lost the only person that can love him for him. He walked back up to the apartment crying and went back into his bedroom. He forgot that the blonde was there. He really didn’t know her name, he just use the nickname baby because he didn’t want use the same nicknames he called you. To him she was just a booty call, nothing more. The only reason why did it because he was getting blue balls and you were never in the mood, and he didn’t want to force you to have sex with him. You guys had sex but most of the time you guys were making love, and if he force you to have sex it will not be the same.

“Get out please” Jason said sadly. “How about you get back in bed and we finish what we started before that bitch show up.” the blonde said. “First of all, she is not a bitch she is the person that I love! Second, this will never happen again! Third, get out of my apartment!” Jason said getting mad at the blonde. The blonde left leaving Jason there to cry himself to sleep.

Jason woke up when he hear his phone ringing. He went to answer it, but just missed it. He looked at his screen and saw 23 miss called and 35 texts from your best friend. Jason got worried because the only reason why your best friend calls Jason is because of you. He call your best friend back. “Hello” “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN JASON I HAVE BEEN CALLING AND TEXTING YOU LIKE CRAZY!” “I am sorry I fell asleep. What is wrong? Is Y/N OK!?” “Jason just come to the hospital and fast”. Jason hung up the phone and got on his bike and went to the hospital.

Jason got to the hospital, breaking eight laws. He rush into the hospital and called out for you. “Y/N! I need to see Y/N! Have you guys seen my Y/N!?” Jason scream in the hospital. Your best friend came to Jason and said “Jason you are finally here. You need to come with me now. I will show you to Y/N.” Jason follow your best friend up to your room and open the door to let Jason in and stop at the door. Once Jason got in your room, he went to the bed and fell on his knees and started to cry. “Look Jason I am so sorry, but Y/N was in a car accident. A stupid drunk driver hit her when she was at a stoplight. She has been coming in and out of conscious since the surgery.  I am sorry but Y/N was under a lot of stress at the time and lost the baby.” you best friend said while crying. “Baby!? She wasn’t pregnant!?” Jason said confused. “Oh I guess she didn’t make it to tell you, but she was pregnant. She was ten weeks along. She left work to go and tell you the good news, but I can see that she didn’t make, but here the ultrasound.” your best friend handed Jason the ultrasound and left your room. Jason just cried even harder.

Jason took your hand and said “I am so so sorry Y/N. You have no idea how sorry I am. I only had sex with the blonde because I didn’t want to force you into anything. When you said no, I was upset at first because I wanted to have sex with the person that I love, but I also understood and gave you space. I didn’t even like having sex with her, I just pictured you there with me. I am so sorry. I love you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you I love you I love you. You are the light at the end of my tunnel. You accepted and loved me when no one else did. You were there for me when I hit rock bottom, but you helped me get back up and made me the man I am today. A better man.The man that you fell in love with. The man that is in love with you. I know what I did was unforgivable, but I hope when you wake up you can give me another chance to show you that I am the man that you fell in love with. I am sorry I was not there for you and our child.” he pause. “We were going to have a baby. We were going to have a mini you and me running around. I bet they were going to have your beautiful eyes, hair, and smile. We could have moved out of the small apartment and move into a house wit a big backyard, so they could have played in with the family dog. We could have been a happy family, but I ruin it all.” Jason said.

“You didn’t ruin anything, it was that stupid guy who thought it was a good idea to drink and drive.” you said with a weak voice. “Oh my god, Y/N you are awake. How are you feeling? Do you need water? Are you comfortable? Do you need a doctor? Did you hear all of what I said?” “I am feeling fine. Yes, but later. Yes. Yes, but later. Yes I heard everything.” “Will you take me back? I understand if you don’t because I did mess up and cause you to leave and get hit by that car.” Jason said while looking straight in the eyes. “I do forgive you Jason. I forgive because I love you Jason Peter Todd. If you love someone you shouldn’t just give up on them without a fight, and you put up a fight and I will do the same.” you said kissing Jason on the forehead because he was still on his knees. “Thank you Y/N! I love you so much.” Jason said while giving you a hug. “I love you too, but things are going to be different. You are going to have to earn your trust back with me.” you said hugging him back. “I understand. Let’s have a baby.” Jason said in your hair. “What!?” “I know. Bad timing because of what happen today, but today made me realize that I love you and I want to start a family with you. If you want to we can get married before the kid due. I know it is nowhere near how romantic on how I wanted to propose to you, but Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me and have my children.” Jason said while getting on one knee. “Yes Jason yes, I will marry you and have your kids.” you said while giving Jason a hug. “You have no idea. You just made me the happiest man alive right now.” Jason said while laughing. “I know, but I need some rest now.” you said laying back you your pillow. “OK, I will go and get a doctor.” Jason said while leading in to give you a kiss then leaving to go find a doctor.

You watch Jason leave with a big smile on his face. While laying back on the bed your eyes felt really heavy all on a sudden, and everything went black.

part 2 or should I just leave it at that?