#yeah I know that this is medically incorrect | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madamechrissy · 4 months ago

Text

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- MDNI- Warnings- overuse/incorrect use of prescription meds, angsty asf in places, scene of a medical procedure, heavy subject matter, some sexual tension. Reader, 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes - this chap, fingering, teasing, tension like a mf, use of prescription drugs, a character with a medical condition, light angst =͟͟͞♡ WC this chap- 6.5k

♡ It's backkk- Reblogs and comments appreciated if you enjoy ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Six =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist =͟͟͞♡ Part Eight

Part Seven

It’s been a week now, since you’ve kissed Doctor Gojo, but he smiles at you every morning, his cerulean eyes drinking you in, he gets you a coffee and something for breakfast every morning. Every elevator ride he’s right next to you, shoulders brushing, hands aching to entwine. During surgeries with you he’s a calm guidance, a hand on your back to gently guide you as he leans over.

You can hardly handle not being with him, you can hardly handle not just kissing him again, especially after that night he took you home. You want to know more about him, about what made him how he is, a brilliant and damaged man, a man that you simultaneously admire and fear, for all he makes you feel.

“Good morning, intern.” He says now, it’s been seven days since you kissed those plump lips, seven days of longing to feel his fingers against your skin.

“Good morning, Doctor Gojo.” You say with a little smile, one that melts him completely.

It’s been seven days since Satoru got to kiss you, seven days since he ruined it all, since he ruined what was just starting. You’re constantly in his mind, he has to see you all day every day and not be able to touch you, kiss you, hold you. Miwa has already tried to hook up again, but Gojo turned her down flat, as he did anyone who even looks at him.

You may not be his, but you will be.

This morning he’s brought you a little breakfast sandwich, you smile gratefully at it, but he sees your dark circles worsening. “Getting any sleep?”

“Uh… no, I’m not.” You admit softly, sitting next to him at the cafeteria, surprising him then. Usually you sit just a little away, or run off to work, but you’re next to him, legs brushing over your scrubs, making his body tense. “Thank you for breakfast always, it’s very sweet.”

“It’s nothing, cafeteria food.” He says with a little smirk, and you sigh, giggling now, a sound that makes his heart falter.

“It’s thoughtful. I’ve been thinking, too, you know.”

“That’s dangerous.” You roll your eyes at him, Satoru sips his coffee, feeling his adderall kicking in, he’s been back to his normal dosages now, well what he considers normal. “Thinking of what, Miss Perfect?”

“I so am not that, stop it.” You nudge at him then, sighing and looking around noticing it’s relatively quiet in the hospital. “I was thinking I miss you.”

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest now. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I see you every day and miss you, and it’s fucked.” You sigh now, shaking your head and running a hand through your hair, hair that Satoru longs to enwrap his hand in, pulling while he has you bent over. His thoughts are all over the place when it comes to you, some sweet, some lewd, some overwhelming.

You’re all he can think of.

“Of course you miss me.” He smirks and earns your glare, before he sighs, a serious look on his face, leaning close to you now. “What is it that you miss? Me touching your pretty body?” His whisper in your ear causes shivers to go down your spine, you’re trembling then with need. “Ah, that’s it.”

“You’re such an ass.” You say through gritted teeth, his laugh tickles your ear as he wraps an arm casually around the back of your chair.

“If you ask for something, anything? I’d give it to you.”

“Aside from decent answers and commitment?”

“Ouch.” He eases back, and you shake your head.

“I don’t know why I said anything.” You stand and he grabs your wrist, you look down at his big hand, veins pressing up from his thin, pale skin, thumb brushing on your inner wrist.

“I’m sorry, I do miss you too. In every way.” He looks up at you under snowy lashes, as you sigh now, looking away from his perfect face. “Every way.”

“Yeah?” You manage to breathe out, he nods just a bit. “Why do you have to look at me like that?”

“Like what, sweets?”

“Like all… intense Gojo like.” He snorts now, easing back his hand, leaning in the chair and looking up at you.

“Hard not to look at you.”

“These eye bags turning you on?” You tease, sitting back down, his hand comes to brush your lower back, making you gasp just a bit.

“Anything about you makes me insane.” You bite your lower lip, looking down at your lap, barely able to function around this man. “Especially love that shampoo you washed your hair with last night.”

“Strawberry really gets you going hmm?”

You both laugh a bit then, so much unsaid and unknown lurking between you however, creating this… tension that’s so palpable.

“If you need me… you could utilize me you know.” You blink then.

“Utilize?”

“Mmhmm. Utilize my skills on your anatomy.”

“Jesus, Satoru.” He watches the color spark on your cheeks, smirking outwardly, but inside he’s dying for you, for any of you. “You think what, we could just… there’s no way.”

“If you need me I’m yours.”

“No chasing after infinity stones? At all?” Your eyes narrow a bit, assessing his face, which is far too serious for his teasing tone.

“None at all. I’d let you use me.” Your mind whirls, you shake your head quickly, sipping on your coffee, making your tummy flip with his images.

“You’re insane. Use you?”

“Mmhmm. Any way you wanted to. You work hard, you know.”

“I’m out.” You stand now, as he chuckles at you, mischievous little shit again, but you know there’s so much more, and his pull is irresistible. It’s not like you don’t know better, and it’s not like you’re giving in, but the idea of… cumming for him? You suddenly feel so hot you can’t take it.

He stands now too, walking with you to the elevator, god this elevator, where he stands too close, where his eyes get lidded, the first place you kissed. “Thoughts going through that pretty head?”

“You’re annoying, that’s the thoughts.”

“Hmm. And damaged.”

“Definitely.” You agree, earning his snort of amusement, as he turns and steps to you, backing you up until you’re against that elevator wall, his free hand on your waist, thumb brushing up, making you shiver. “You’re suggesting I what, fuck my frustration out on you? Where’s that lead?”

“I’d take any part of you, sweetheart.” His desperate words are your undoing, you yank him down, kissing him then, it’s desperate and messy and full of desire, before you pull back, as the elevator stops, and Satoru feels your heat against his thigh, pressed between yours.

“You’re the most toxic man.” You huff, shoving at him and stomping out, Satoru leans against the wall, head falling back, when you’re back inside, your coffee and sandwich not even in your hands somehow. The doors shut again, and you’re pressing the highest floor, shocking him. “You’d really just… get me off?”

“Oh I’d let you fuck my face any day baby.” You kiss him again, like a dam breaking, when he’s all over you, picking you up in his arms, your thighs are against his hips, making you grind eagerly as he groans, hand against the wall, holding you up as he nips your lower lips, pressing harder against you. Your cry makes your head fall back, his lips kissing up your throat.

“Fuck you, Satoru.” You grumble, gasping when he grabs your ass, pressing his cock against your eager cunt.

“Lemme make you cum.”

“Here!?”

“No… m’office…lemme feel her pulse around me, fuck.” You whimper then, breaths coming quicker and quicker.

“It doesn’t mean we’re good, though. I’m still m-mad. Just…”

“Be mad, but let me drink you.”

“Goddammit, ugh.” You’re eased down, dizzy as he presses the button to your floor, you try to compose yourself. “You’re infuriating.”

“I know.” Is all he says, softly now, brushing your hair back. “Meet me on break.”

He walks out and you’re shaking, he’s practically beaming, this ass of a man that you can’t stand, but also… love and want. Know he’s got issues out the ass, but fuck you want him, and could it just be sexual? You severely doubt it, not with how you feel as he kisses you, the energy altogether, but your pussy throbbing around nothing is trying to infiltrate your better judgement.

What a day it’s going to be.

“Someone just left a sandwich and coffee. Yum.” Maki says, her and Yuuta have split it in half, you can’t stop the laugh, an insane peal of laughter that makes half the hospital stare at you.

You’re losing your shit, aren’t you?

The day paces as it normally does, aside from stolen glances from a certain blue eyed ass of a man that was your boss. Was he really an ass, though? Or was he sweet, and damaged. But you’re not here to fix someone, not in that way, you want to fix people’s hands, their limbs, stitch them together, make them whole again. Not figuratively.

Literally.

You’re stitching up a patient as Maki walks in, pushing her glasses up just a bit on the bridge of her nose, observing. “You’re good at that now, damn.”

“Lots of suture duty.” You tease, rolling your eyes, smiling as you finish up and give the patient after care instructions. “How was it with Shoko?” You ask.

“Interesting, actually? I am surprised.” You both head to grab coffees, both failing to hold back your yawns.

“Right, I was so intrigued by it, too. Until…”

“Yeah, you’ve had a rough week.” She says, surprisingly soft, but she’s soft in places when it comes to her friends.

“It’s okay, I have to get through this. But thank you.” You hug her tightly, and then tense a bit when Satoru rounds the corner, some sugary concoction in his hand.

“How does he stay that thin?” She says, earning Gojo’s smirk.

“My ears are burning, talking about how handsome I am?” He says, brushing back his hair, back to his usual self, insufferable and cocky.

But you saw a different side of him, a side he clearly keeps hidden, and you hate how badly you want to unravel it, piece by piece, the mystery that is Doctor Gojo, that is Satoru. A carefree, unbothered and youthful man ninety percent of the time, a serious doctor nine percent, and one percent, a mess, vulnerable and distraught, tugging on your damn heart.

“Talking about how you have diabetes in your cup.” You tease then, and he gasps, hand to his chest.

“You two are like old ladies gossiping!”

“Says you.” You roll your eyes, and Maki looks between you both.

“I see something… over there.” She leaves you both now, and Satoru walks a little closer, sipping on his drink, you wipe off the little bit of foam on his lips, finger lingering too long.

“Messy.” You mumble, then he leans low, breath against your ear.

“You’re messy, from my very vivid memory.”

“Shush!” You’re heating up, when he pulls back, lips far too glossy and tempting, destroying you bit by bit.

“Office, meet me in ten.” He turns and walks off then, lanky body in those lavender scrubs and that white coat, you nervously look at your watch, noticing your heart rate is through the roof.

The moment you’re in there, the hunger just unleashes, his hands are all over, on your breasts over your scrubs and your bra, as you kiss him desperately, hand slipping under his scrub top, thumb along the soft white trail of his hair under his belly button. Hungry, desperate, devouring each other, until he’s picked you up, sitting you right on his desk, moaning

Satoru’s slipping his fingers under the stretchy waistband of your blue scrub pants, and once his finger brushes your soaked panties, you cry out softly, covering your mouth as he exhales, leaning further over you. “You’re soaked, sweetheart, you just stay this way?”

Around Satoru, yes, you do.

Your eyes roll back as his fingers brush up and down your panties, pressing even deeper. “G-god…” Is all you manage, letting your hand fall off your face to grip his white coat, pulling him so close. “F-feels so good…”

“Does it, baby?” He murmurs, slipping under them now, your breath is coming faster and faster, moaning softly when he finds your little clit, making your thighs tremble, your tummy clenching in desire. “Missed touching you, miss those pretty little moans.”

He kisses you as his finger rolls in circles, and when your lips connect it’s just too much, you feel too much for him, like something grabbing your heart, squeezing it like a vise. The tingles that shoot from his lips make you soak his fingers, long and cool pressing on your twitchy little clit, all while his mouth consumes you, his plush lips so pliant and hungry.

“Wanna cum f’me, pretty?” His husky words are too much, as you look into the swirling storms of those eyes, hips arching and rolling. But you’re too caught up then, as he slips a finger in, just looking at you.

Eyes that were black last week, dark and desolate, now so eager and bright, sparkling so brilliantly while he stretches you, one finger curling inside as he angles his arm. Eyes that filled with tears, the sadness as two tears had rolled down his cheeks, the desperation as those hands that are playing you gripped your face, mixing with all the pleasure he’s bringing.

“Look at you, fuck…” He’s whispering, and how he does look at you, like you’re everything and anything all at once.

“Satoru…” You’re tearing up as he makes you feel so good, kissing you again, you’re clinging to him while he’s kissing and licking up your neck to your ear, now pressing on the spongy little spot in your slick walls with two fingers. You hear it echoing in the office, how wet you are, as he nips your lower lip.

His cock is aching, tip leaking precum as he hears it, the squelching wetness of your overheated cunt on his fingers, your cheeks flushed so beautiful, eyes just glinting with tears. He pauses, breathless at the sight, all while you’re soaking his hand, his wrist even, as his other slips up the delicate curve of your back, watching you tremble, pressing your spot again and again.

“That’s it, let go for me.” He whispers, and you can’t then, you’re too invested, you’re too…

In love.

“Stop for a moment, please?” Satoru blinks snowy lashes in confusion for just a moment before he pulls back immediately, looking at you with concern.

“What is it, too rough?” He murmurs, so goddamn thoughtful it makes you cry more, and soon he’s panicking, as you’re shaking your head.

“God no, I want you so badly. It’s… I can’t do this casually. It’s too much, you’re so much.” You cup his face, watching the confusion as his fingers now rest on your waist once more, as he tries to control his breathing.

“Let me feel you cum, it’s all I need, we don’t have to sleep to-”

“No, it’s too much. Everything.” You take another breath, trailing a hand down his body, trying to calm your pounding heart, fingers brushing the soft material, your eyes lowering, sticky from tears.

“I’m sorry I said it. I am.” He whispers hoarsely, you shake your head then, taking a breath and resting your forehead on his chest.

“I forgive you, Satoru. I do.”

“Shit…” He exhales in relief, kissing you again, tiltitng your chin up, your head falls back as you cling to his shoulders, he drags you closer, until he’s right between your thighs. “You probably shouldn’t.”

“You just feel how you feel. I feel how I feel. It is different but…” Your hand cups his perfect face now, exhaling, breath tickling his lips, as he aches for you. “This deserves some sort of chance, but a real one. Not… me fucking you because I’m aching to. It can’t be that.”

“Do you want… more? To try for…”

“To try for you, yes. I want to. I want to… know you, Dr. Gojo, know every bit of you, not just what I have seen so far. I want the real you.” You say softly, as he feels his own emotions take hold of him.

Who has ever wanted to truly know Satoru Gojo, the man behind the pretty bright smile? Surely Suguru, but as for women, his experience has always been sexual, or just hateful in the case of Utahime. Friendship perhaps, but never the combination of friendship, of sex, of more, of you ripping open his soul with just a pretty look, god he just enjoyed hearing you breathe.

“Being without you is fucking torture.” He says softly, pulling you even more against him now, to where you can feel how much he wants you. “I’ll do anything for another chance, I’ll try… to open up.”

“That’s all I want, I don’t want to ‘fix you’ or change you, just know you.” You sniffle now, aching to speak those words, that you’re in love, but it’s insanity. “That's all I’ve wanted.”

“Then I promise, I’ll try to be… open. I promise. But… if you hate-”

“Shh.” You touch his lips with your fingertip now, shaking your head as you feel it, his insecurity, the most conceited man deep down is so terrified you will hate who he is. “It couldn’t be further from the truth of what I feel.”

Satoru’s left speechless at you, torn between making you cum, kissing you, holding you, fuck you have his head swimming, his mind whirling. “There’s a lot you don’t know, though. Or think you do.”

“And for me too. I… shit…” You feel it then, the stabbing pain that’s been blissfully gone, making you wince as he presses his fingers on it carefully, frowning at you.

“Hurting again? For how long?”

“Just this week. Not bad like before, more like… stabbing, ugh.”

“Hmm, stress probably doesn’t help. Stress like a pillhead doctor madly obsessed with you?”

“Satoru! Don’t call yourself that.” You whisper the words, head still throbbing, Satoru smiles just a bit. “No self deprecating humor.”

“None at all? Dick could help the headaches-”

“Satoru!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But it really could.” You glare as he chuckles, so happy to just have you in his arms, near him once more. “I can get you some more of that medicine if you need.”

“The one you shot in my ass cheek?” You raise a brow, and earn his more devious smile. “Actually it did help.”

“Still should scan it again soon, the tap should have helped longer.”

“I am under a lot of stress.” Both of your beepers go off then, and you two sigh, as he helps you down off the desk, now towering so tall over you, your head falls back to look at him while he caresses your lips longingly.

“A date, tonight, no matter what. Even if it’s three am. Promise me?” He asks softly, as your beepers go off again, but his arms are on either side of you, again his lips hovering. “You deserve one, a real one, not whatever we’ve been trying and failing royally at.”

“A real date, where we… talk.”

“Then-”

“Talk. We need to just talk, okay? Before…” You brush against him, making his nostrils flare, a teasing little smile under your lashes then. “Before more again.”

“Fuck. Yeah?”

“Yeah, better be a good date, been asking me all this time, hmm?” You dart away then, running out on him after a peck on his cheek, leaving him for just a few moments, trying to pull himself together.

This insane feeling for you, the fear of losing you, is all so much, he’s shaky when he grabs a bottle, hesitating just a bit. He doesn’t want to be fucked up tonight with you, he wants to be all there, but he knows he needs to have some, to be a perfect doctor, to help everyone in the best way he can.

Perfect Doctors can’t have shaky hands.

Perfect Doctors can’t have bad days.

Satoru Gojo is the perfect Doctor, and he can’t fuck up, but he doesn’t want to fuck up with you again, his heart can’t take it. He takes a xanax and puts it under his tongue rather than right up his nose, watching as his hands slowly stop shaking, as he slows his heart rate, the blood pressure dropping just a little, you have him so on edge and needy.

He sucks his fingers, just to taste more of you, that mixes with the sweet and bitter xanax, he’s not sure any two things really taste better, thoughts of snorting it right off your pussy fogging his damn brain. He smacks at his own cheek, shaking himself out of it, walking out to see you commanding a whole fucking room, you’re straddled right on a patient and pressing on their chest as the nurses wheel you.

God you’re fucking impeccable.

Satoru clears out of his obsession with you for just a moment, running in to help you, as your compressions tire your little arms out, you seem so small to him suddenly, on this huge guy pressing as quickly as you can. As they get him to the room you look at Satoru, face exhausted so clearly, he carefully touches your shoulder, fingers brushing against you.

“Let me take over, champ.”

“No I- oh look.” The patient is breathing now, blinking his eyes as he gasps, and sees you, his hands coming to your hips.

Satoru thinks of making his heart stop for good.

You blink rapidly, as the man relaxes, eyeing you with wide eyes then. “Oh my… I’m so sorry I… thank you!?”

“You’re welcome.” You smile softly, the man is probably as buff and probably as tall as Satoru if that’s possible, as you clear your throat and try to get his hands off your hips. “What’s your name, since we’re so personal now?”

He laughs just a bit, smile on his face so big, releasing you as Satoru helps you down, glaring at the patient that dares to try to rizz up his girl after almost dying, who the fuck is he. “Choso. I guess you’re now like my angel huh?”

“Oh no, not an angel.” You giggle a bit at him, at his sweet smile, feeling the absolute glare from Satoru at you as you put fingers to his pulse. “Choso, hmm, what happened? Do you remember?”

“I have a pretty bad heart, unfortunately.” He mumbles, slipping up his shirt to reveal his chest, with a line right down the center, making your own heart hurt for him, with his tired little smile. “It’s on borrowed time while I wait for another.”

“How young were you?” You touch his chest, and Satoru tries to observe you as a doctor, not as the girl he needs, so proud of you as you go over everything, fuck he barely even has direction for you.

You’re a perfect intern, already.

He wishes he was just a little more like you back when he interned, yeah you’re emotional, you are too invested, but he loves it about you, watching it all unfold as it unfortunately looks like the man is giving you heart eyes. Satoru switches to doctor mode, peering now at the medical records that get brought to him by Miwa, frowning then.

“You needed a heart a good two years ago.” Satoru murmurs softly, and you look over at him curiously, Choso smiles a bit, brushing back messy dark hair.

“I think your pretty intern is making my heart better.”

“Oh, no, stop that. Let’s get him on a heparin drip please?” You say to one of the nurses, who runs off while Satoru peers at his number on the list.

“He’s number two actually. So, you’ll have to get admitted, we should monitor this until one becomes available.” Satoru says, and Choso finally peels his violet eyes off you for a moment.

“It could be… too late though?”

“We’ll do everything we can to keep it beating until then. Let’s get a current ultrasound of his heart, see if there’s anything to prolong it.” You nod then, but Choso grabs your hand, and Satoru thinks of fucking his heart up for a split second, as you look down warmly at him.

“Can she do it?” He asks Satoru and he goes to say no, an ultrasound tech will, but you’re already speaking before his brain works.

“I can be here, if you want, but we do have ultrasound techs, they’re so amazing at it too.”

“Could you be?” You nod again, as you finally step out now, frowning as Satoru hands you the charts.

“Shit, he got this as a teen, no wonder. He’s… thirty. He’s so sweet, fuck I hope we can help him.”

“Sweet, huh?” He glares at you with those icy blue eyes, you laugh softly then, shaking your head as you further flip through the pages.

“Satoru, he’s just thankful I saved him. For now, at least.”

“Uh huh.”

“Silly.” You gently brush a hand up his arm, looking around at the bustling hospital, making his skin prick with goosebumps, looking at your pretty face, feeling so possessive he can’t stand it at the moment.

You’re not his.

Not yet.

Why would you choose him? What if someone comes along and promises the damn world to you, what if they want exactly as you do, would you leave him so far behind? How can he ask you to sacrifice so much, is he so selfish, truly, when it comes to you?

He is.

After getting the ultrasound, Satoru has you in his office for a much different reason than earlier, as you both study a teenage heart working overtime to pump through a grown man's body. “It's insane, it's still beating at this age, he clearly takes good care of his body.”

Satoru scowls at you, making you blink a bit and then snort at his statement. “Oh, you like his body huh?”

“You're cute when you’re jealous. Focus or no date, maybe I’ll go have a little dinner with-”

“You’re a brat, fine, intern you tell me the option I have here, because there’s really only one.” You sigh, standing in front of him, he rests his chin on your head, hands coming to your waist, possessively thinking of how only he should, as he inhales your sweet scent.

“An LAVD is his best option, it could give him up to a year or two? And with as high as he is on the list, it shouldn’t be too long. But then, all sorts of potential complications with the surgery.” Your fingers trace the ventricles, so tiny and dark on the scan, of the sweet man’s heart, hating this for him. “But you’ll do the surgery, right Satoru?”

“Of course I will.”

“If anyone can do it right, it’s you.” Your words make his heart falter, while he pulls you even tighter against him, enwrapping you.

“Of course I will, I’m not worried about the surgery, he also seems pretty tough, and a good will, that matters.”

“It’s not fair, though, is it?”

“None of it is, nothing that happens to anyone, sweetheart.” He kisses your temple, enjoying being near you again, how has something that just started become so special. “So, proceed with the LAVD? Or?”

“Monitor him for a couple of days first I think? Before the extreme.” You say softly, and Satoru nods then, pulling you tighter against him. “I’ll go over the options, he seems comfortable with me.”

“Very comfortable.” You laugh, shaking your head and turning around to look up at him, tapping at his pointy chin, then leaning up, hands slipping up his chest.

“He’s sweet and he needs something right now, if he’s comfortable with me, I’ll be there for him. But it doesn’t hurt to have a jealous Gojo.” You grin and wiggle your brows, gasping then as he grips you with his strong hands, leaning low.

“Should I show you how jealous?” He steps you until you’re against his wall, his thigh between yours, vivid images of you arched in his bed filling his mind.

“That date, remember? We have an hour until the shift ends, you gonna pick me up and everything from the house?”

“I sure will. Fine, go on and talk to him heartbreaker, I’ll see about having the staff order a device just in case he agrees. And then…” He kisses your lips again. “I’ll call you when I head to your house.”

“See you then, Doctor Gojo.” You smile as you slip off again, as he rests his head on the wall, the inner workings of his mind spinning in circles when you walk out, he pulls his bottle out of his jacket, wondering if he should have one more bar, but puts it back instead as Miwa walks in.

“Need anything before I head out, Doctor Gojo?” She asks, brightly bouncing up to him, he shakes his head, dismissing her with a little smile.

“I’m good, go home and relax.”

“Oh, I don’t mind helping… at all.” She trails her hand down Gojo’s stomach and he tenses, panicking as he looks over her shoulder, the door cracked open, how shitty would this even look. He grabs her wrist, noticing her flush of excitement.

“I said I’m good, Miwa.”

She pouts now. “You look so worked up, don’t you need a stress relief, you used to enjoy it.”

Satoru firmly takes her hand off, shaking his head. “I’m not interested.”

She looks like she’s about to cry then, irritating Gojo though he supposes he should feel… bad or something? He can’t bring himself to, maybe it’s the xanax but her tears don’t matter. “You’re not even with her though? The intern…”

“I will be.” He smiles then, sighing. “Keep it a secret but I’m in love.”

“In.. love!?”

“Mmm. Yeah shush though. Don’t ask again, mmkay sweets?” Satoru pats her head, firmly pushing her away, as gentle as he can. “Bye bye.” Satoru walks out, leaving her in tears, planning every damn detail of a real date with you as you go and talk to your intriguing new patient.

“Hello, angel.” You flush a bit at the handsome patient, clearly exhausted with dark circles, pale and drawn, but so bright and sweet.

“Well hello, Mr. Kamo.”

“Choso, please.”

“Choso, we have a couple options here. But I’m gonna be honest, they’re both a little risky.” You sit on the bed, just the edge of it near his hips, wires everywhere, monitors beeping with his weak heart. You try not to look as concerned as you feel for him.

“Be real with me, it’s a shitty heart.”’

“No! It did its job and more, but it’s past its prime. You took good care of it, I can tell.” You say with a little wink, earning his blush. “Lifting heavy?”

“Not too heavy, restricted in what I can do. But I try.”

“So, there’s something called an LAVD, a Left Ventricular assist device, basically it can help keep this heart here pumping until you get a transplant. It could be tomorrow, it could be months, you’re high up which is good!”

“But…”

“But, the surgery has got its own risk, we’d be operating on a weak heart.”

“And if I don’t?” You sigh, looking over at him, and he exhales. “Ah, it’s pretty bad huh?”

“It’s not great. Um… we have a few days of leeway at least if you stay and relax here for a bit, think of it, see if something comes.”

“So relaxing here.” He gestures to his wires, and you bite your lip, hating that something like this is happening.

“You’re so… positive.”

“Should I not be?” He smiles lazily, eyes on your lips for a moment, before they slide back up to your thigh. “Got the prettiest doctor ever.”

“You mean Doctor Gojo?” You tease.

“Not my type.” You both laugh, as he inhales from it, touching his chest, the monitor spiking just a bit.

“Flirting is making your heart race, Mr. Kamo.”

“Shit.” You both laugh softly again, you put your hand over his, covered in intricate tattoos.

“We will try everything to get you to live for the transplant, as best as we can, but it’s ultimately your decision. I’ll go over more with you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds good, doc.”

“Mmm, weird not getting called ‘intern’. Have a good night, then, we’ll monitor you for now, try to get comfortable, okay?” You turn off the lights as dim as you can, handing him the remote. “There’s always Twilight Marathons on channel fifty five.”

“Oh shit, who doesn’t love that?”

You grin as he does. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Sure thing angel.” You roll your eyes, shutting the door quietly, as Satoru texts your phone, making it buzz.

Satoru: I’m off already, I’m going home to get ready. An hour sound good?

You: It’s actually happening!?!?

Satoru: Nothing’s stopping this shit.

You can’t stop the smile from hitting your lips, rushing to the locker room, and soon you’re throwing a million outfits all over the ground, as you yell out Maki’s name, she runs in, seeing you in just your panties whistling. “Damn baby, just stay home with me hmm?”

“Don’t tempt me, now.” You wink and then you both giggle, Yuuta and Toge walk by, and both blush and turn, but Toge runs off, earning you shaking your head and laughing softly.

“You’ll kill that poor boy with those titties.” Maki shuts the door thankfully, and you’re holding up several outfits. “The red top, it’s cold so wear that pretty puffy black jacket with the fur.”

“Oh god this is why I adore you.”

“Only good taste?” Maki sits in your chair, and you wiggle your bros.

“Love you for all sorts of reasons.”

“Ooh baby. No, that’s hot as fuck… those leggings… hmm what about thigh high boots?”

“Yes, shit! I was thinking it was too cold to be sexy, you’ve saved me.” Maki bends down to help you zip up, then you’re throwing the jacket as she dabs on a little makeup, some blush and gloss.

“Damn you look good, like you slept four hours at least.”

“Bitch!” You both snort, as you work on brushing your hair, then hear the text, that Satoru is here. “Oh shit, I’m okay!?”

“You’re perfect. And hey…” She brushes your hair back carefully, serious Maki is here, not the joking and fun girl. You tense a bit at it, looking up curiously. “Just let yourself… know each other, okay? Sex is cool but…”

“No, I agree. I need to know him. We had sex so soon and…”

“I can’t blame you now.” She winks, and you blush, making your cheeks even brighter under the loose powder along your cheeks. “Allow yourself to feel, to have fun, but be careful.”

“Wise Maki, who knew!?”

“I am pretty amazing.” You hug her then, as the doorbell rings.

“You are. Shit, Toge may kill him, let me go!” You both dart down the stairs, as Toge scowls at Satoru, while he pats his head.

“Hey kiddo. And…” He pauses as you step down, exhaling at the sight of you, so gorgeous, you always are, but seeing you outside of scrubs addled him even further. Like some corny ass rom com from the nineties when you descend the old stairs of your home, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“Hey, Satoru. I’m ready.” You smile at him nervously, as he clears his throat, blush decorating the infamous ‘Dr. Hojo’s’ cheeks, as he opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again.

“You look gorgeous, shit.” He manages, rubbing the back of his neck, as you shyly look down.

“Thank you, Satoru. You look handsome.” You take in his own appearance, so gorgeous as always, but he’s also got a thick winter coat over him, but it’s this fancy overcoat, looking so good on his lithe frame. His eyes sparkle, bright like you know them to, as he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “All gentlemanly?”

“Trying to be, sweetheart. Are you ready?” You nod eagerly, as your friends watch you both a little cautiously, as you both walk out into the chilled snow night, nearly christmas, your house has little snowmen and lights, brightening the cool, clear night sky, as you see your breath while you walk to his car.

“It’s so warm, thank you!” You say once you’ve slid into the still running car, nice and toasty, he slides in, a hand on your thigh over your fleece leggings, leaning close to you, so close you taste his sweet breath.

“Are you ready for an actual date with me?” He teases, and you nod, when he eyes your glossy lips. “I need to know that flavor, for scientific purposes.”

“Oh, scientific?” You tease back, he just smirks, and you press a kiss, a quick one, that makes his arm wrap around you, hand at the small of your back, exhaling against them.

“Cherry vanilla.”

“You’re insane, yes!” He’s smirking a bit, big hand under your puffy jacket, pressing on the soft cotton of your sweater, as your arms wrap his neck. “So where is this date?”

“Surprise. Are you ready to go?” His thumb caresses your jaw, studying your heart wrenching beauty in the quiet car, humming with the motor, heat pouring on both of you, though the heat from your bodies far surpasses it.

“I’m ready, Dr. Gojo.”

To know him, to actually know him.

You’re more than ready.

And Satoru, with your taste on his lips, scent filling his car, the sight of you along with the feel of your thigh under his palm, and just how beautiful you are, you fill his every fucking sense. All he can think, over and over, is that he can’t fuck this up, he can’t fuck this chance at you up.

He has to be real, he has to open, finally, and hope that you’ll accept him, because he thinks it just might take him out if you don’t. Little does he know, the words of love threaten to spill with every breath, and you know it’s toxic, maybe bad patterns, but you’d take this man any damn way he was.

I am backkk, I know a few of you were really interested in this so I hope you enjoy where it goes. DON'T worry- Choso will be FINE he is a Denny Duquette reference (this is a Grey's AU aha) but a happy ending for him. I look forward to your comments and now these shouldn't be so far apart- I'm back on track hehe

Taglist #1 (open still!) @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @jkslaugh97 @shadeowz @gojo1228 @jaeminaur @httpstoyosi @angel1of-death @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @san-it-is-i-guess @pelicanpizza @gojo1228 @ducky1232 @inthedarkshadows000 @eclecticmentalitypersona @burguhndy @levislug @addehehe @sluttyofgojo @msniks @xixflower @ambiguouslady42 @kiaraandrea @jjknanamin @suguruscousin @silverfangmarks @atiny-99 @thatssoambs @kanekisheart @mahalsuya @aldebrana

#doctor satoru #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #low-key yandere satoru #whipped gojo #obsessed gojo #doctor au #grey's anatomy vibes #gojo x reader smut #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #jjk angst

474 notes · View notes

thef1diary · 1 year ago

Text

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate.

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

#little big fan fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 fluff #fluff

1K notes · View notes

alotofpockets · 1 year ago

Text

When your heart stops beating | Part 1 | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you go down on the pitch and go into cardiac arrest

Warnings: cardiac arrest, CPR, AED, possibly incorrect medical terms

A/n: Happy birthday @wosoamazing, this one is for you!

Read Part 2 here

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.1k

-----

“She does know this game day walk is meant to be relaxing, right?” Millie asks Leah, while the two of them watch you run around with Grace. Leah’s face lights up as you rush past and your giggles reach her ears. “I think she knows, but that she doesn’t care.”

Where Leah was often found in a quiet corner of the room playing her sudoku’s, you were always running around and doing something active. Today on your game day walk, that consisted of playing tag with Grace.

“I don’t know how you keep up with her.” Millie had known the both of you for a long time, and yet the question always lingered somewhere in the back of her mind. Leah Williamson was usually the quiet and composed one, especially since she became a part of the captain’s team. You, on the other hand, were always present and expressive.

“I don’t have to keep up, cause at the end of the day, she always comes running back to me.” Leah said with a content smile. As if you heard Leah’s words, you came running towards her, “Hi baby.” You put your arms around her as you walked backwards for a few steps. “Hi love, did you win?”

The smirk on your face instantly gave away the answer. “I did, ‘cause Gracie gave up when I was too fast for her.” Leah kissed your forehead, “That’s my girl. Hope you have enough energy left for the match.” You make your way around so you’re now walking next to Leah, “Oh yeah, don’t worry cap, you know I’ve got plenty more where this came from.” Leah rolls her eyes, she might be your captain, but she hated when you called her that.

You had been right though, you were running up and down the flank as if you hadn’t been running around all morning already. You went into halftime with a 1-1 score, knowing Leah was going to give her captain’s speech about being better on set pieces. There had been plenty of opportunities to have broken the tie with them, but hadn’t been able to get the ball in the back of the net from them yet.

After halftime you're able to break free on the left hand side of the pitch, you manage to get the ball in the far corner where you are quickly surrounded by two defenders. You tried to get out with some fancy footwork, but they weren’t falling for your tricks. Instead you opted on getting the corner, so you kicked the ball against one of them to get it out of bounds.

Alex ran up to take the corner, while you made your way to the box. You give each other a quick high five, “Let’s show Leah what we can do from set pieces.” Alex said before continuing on her way to the corner.

Once everyone was in position, Alex lifted her hands, and sent her cross in. The ball was coming right in front of the goal, you ran forward and jumped up into the air hoping to reach it. What you hadn’t seen was that the goalkeeper had taken a couple of steps forward and took a firm stand to punch the ball out of the way. Less than a second after you head the ball in the direction of the goal a pair of fists collide with your chest. A shot of pain goes through your whole body as you fall to the ground. The moment your head hits the ground, the world around you goes blank.

Alessia was the first one by your side, as she had stood ready at the back post. You weren’t moving, and you weren’t responding. Alessia looks up with a face full of worry, only to meet Leah’s panicked eyes.

The medical team was quick by your side, and told the surrounding players to give them some space. Alessia stood up and pulled Leah away from the scene, “Come on, they need space to help her.”

“She isn’t breathing.” One medic said to the other. He went to check your pulse next, “Her pulse is weak. Let’s get her on some air and get her on a heart rate monitor.” The medic made quick work of getting the right equipment, while the players watched the scene unfold in horror, their faces pale with fear and concern.

They put the oxygen mask on your face, and connect the electrodes to your chest. Your heartbeat was shown on the monitor, and like the medic said it was weak. The beeps sounding from the monitor started slowing down. “Heart rate is dropping. Prepare for CPR.”

Beth stood with her arm around a crying Leah. It was hard for the whole team to see you on the ground like this, but Beth knew that someone needed to be strong for Leah. The rest of the team stood grouped to the side, worriedly looking at their unconscious teammate.

Leah fell to her knees when they started doing CPR on you, Beth tried comforting her as best as she could while tears started forming in her eyes as well. An ambulance was driven onto the pitch, and the paramedics ran up to take over CPR.

One of the paramedics took over compressions, while the other got the defibrillator ready. The paramedic halts the compressions for a moment as they cut off your shirt. “Hold compressions.” The lead paramedics says, and places the defibrillator paddles on your chest.

The whole stadium was quiet as the paramedics got ready to shock your heart. “Charging.” The paramedic said, followed by a beep signalling that the defibrillator was ready to shock, “Clear!”

Your body jolted from the shock, and the paramedics eyed the monitor hopefully. Still nothing. They started compressions again, while the machine recharged.

“Come on, stay with me.” Leah cried out as the pedals were brought to your chest again. “Clear!” Another shock jolts through your body. “We’ve got her!” The paramedic says, his voice full of relief as the monitor shows a steady heartbeat.

Your heart might be beating again, but you were still unconscious. “Alright, let’s get her to a hospital.” The stretcher was brought from the back of the ambulance, and you were moved onto it.

Leah was taking off her armband and shoving it in Beth’s hands. “I have to go with her.” Beth understood, “Go, we’ve got this.” Leah runs over to the ambulance and gets into the back with you. Her eyes were focussed on the steady rhythm of your heart beat on the monitor, while she held your hand tightly. “Stay with me baby.” She whispered over and over again. Leah was definitively in shock, having just watched her girlfriend die and be brought back to life, but your fight wasn’t over yet, you still had to wake up.

Leah sat at your bedside, her hand clutched around yours. The doctor's had done many tests and scans, and had told her that all the tests came back negative and your scans were clear. They had to wait until you woke up to fully assess your memory and motor function. While the doctors were sounding hopeful, Leah still feared the worst.

Doctor's checked on you every 30 minutes. Leah never moved away, staying by your side, holding your hand. It was after the fourth check in that Leah suddenly felt you squeezed her hand. She shot up instantly, “Baby, I'm here.”

You slowly open your eyes and take in your surroundings. A hospital? You’d have to ask someone what happened, but first you had a more urgent question, so you turn towards the voice. “Did it go in?”

Leah’s eyes filled up with tears. “Did what go in?” You frown, Leah wanted better set pieces and now she didn't know what you were referring to? “The corner, did I score?” Your girlfriend chuckles lightly, realising that this meant you remembered what happened before the accident. “Yes, you did.” Leah wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“Did we win?” You ask next, still having more important questions on your mind than the one relating to you being in a hospital bed. “I don’t know actually.” You’re about to take out the nasal cannula cause you didn’t like the feeling. “Baby, don't touch that, you gotta leave that in.”

Leah pressed the help button on your bedside, like the nurse had urged her to do when you woke up. “What’s going on Lee?” She shakes her head, “Let’s wait for the doctor’s.” You didn’t understand why Leah didn’t just tell you what was going on, so you pushed more. “Why so serious, love? I just want to know why I can’t take these tubes off.” Leah really tried not being the one to break this to you, but she knew you wouldn’t drop it.

“Because I watched you die.” You watch her in disbelief. “Your heart stopped on the pitch, they had to shock your heart back to life. You aren’t taking that off until a doctor tells you it’s okay.” The realisation of what had happened started dawning on you. “Copy that, cap.” She rolls her eyes, but steps closer to hug you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” The nurse walked in. “I see someone is awake. How are you feeling?” You look between Leah and the nurse. “Leah, said I couldn’t take this oxygen thing off, because I died. Did I really die?” The nurse nods, “You did for a moment. Your heart stopped beating after your accident, but the medical team and the paramedics got you back. After that you were brought here, all your tests and scans looked good. The doctor just wants to do a couple tests before you can take the nasal cannula out, I will ask her to come down here soon, I promise.”

Sure enough the doctor showed up in your room within the next five minutes. She did some tests and you were able to take the tube away. “Alright, I want to keep you overnight, just to make sure. Some more tests in the morning, and if those are clear you can go home.”

You couldn’t wait to get home and no longer be in the gloomy hospital room. Lotte had come by with some dinner, and your bags from the stadium. Leah used the time Lotte was there to keep you company to quickly get changed out of her kit, and into the clothes she had packed this morning when she left home.

After some dinner, Lotte took a picture of the both of you to send to the group chat with an update to the rest of the team. The admin team contacted you to ask if you consented to them using the picture in your injury update post, which you agreed to.

-----

Lionesses just posted

Lionesses: After some scary moments today, we are happy to share that Y/n is concious and doing well.

She will continue to be monitored, but should make a full recovery.

Sending all our love and well wishes towards you, Y/n!

-----

Leah stayed the night, there was no way she was going to leave your side any time soon. She spent the evening cuddled up with you on the hospital bed, watching a movie together. For you the accident was just what people told you had happened, otherwise it was just one big blank space and then waking up in the hospital. Of course it had been scary to hear that your heart stopped beating, but Leah had seen all that happen. She watched you die, and that visual wasn’t going to leave her head any time soon.

The next morning you successfully finished all the doctor’s tests, and were ready to go home. Lotte was there again to pick you up, since you had both gotten here in the back of the ambulance.

The doctor’s had put you on bedrest, which you weren’t looking forward to, but you knew it was for your own safety. Leah had already let the staff know that she was taking the week off to be with you, which they fully understood.

After Lotte dropped the two of you off at your house, Leah took you right to the bedroom where she told you to stay put. Five minutes later she came back with blankets, pillows, water bottles, and snacks. “We’re having a movie marathon, doctor’s orders.” You smiled at her fondly, usually you had too much energy to sit through a full movie, and you realised that Leah was going to take advantage of your bedrest situation. Not that you mattered one bit though, you were all for a night of cuddles with her.

-----

Continue reading part 2!

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #lionesses x reader #lionesses #engwnt #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #awfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine

821 notes · View notes

persephonemorningstar · 5 months ago

Text

Crimson & Clover

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Additional Tags: Secret Marriage, Probably incorrect military lingo/information (don't come for me)

Crimson and Clover

You hated sitting in these exam rooms. They were cold and bland, always smelling strongly of cleaning products. Four more months of these monthly check ins and you could go back to your once a year physicals and medical exams after assignment completions. The base doc had just stepped out to check on your blood test results and you were eager for his return so you could one stop staring at the boring painting of sailboat across from you and also so you could go grab lunch at the mess hall with the team. At this rate the guys would be done eating by the time you made it though.

Just as you were giving up hope that the doc was ever coming back for you and accepting your fate of being destined to be stuck in this dingy, boring exam room until the end of time the doc comes back into the room holding your file and looking through the papers in it.You sit up a bit straighter as he starts to speak. “Well everything looks good here. Cell count is where it should be and levels all look good. I’d say your recovery since the incident six months ago is coming along nicely. You’ve resumed all regular activities now, correct?”

You nod your head, “being smart about it and not taking on too much at once, always make sure to workout with a partner as well but back to my regular schedule and routine”

He nods, “that’s good, sounds like we are right on track and following instruction. Well I think we’ve covered everything we need to for this visit you are free to go, see you same time next month”

You cheer a silent victory in your head.Finally you can get a bite to eat. As you’re hopping off the exam table the doctor is still looking at your blood test results, “one more thing Sergeant L/N, almost forgot to mention this but just need to do so for the notes, your pregnancy test came back negative as well”

You roll your eyes because of course it did, you could of told them that, the doctor just chuckles at your obvious dismay “I know but you know the rules”

You nod your head “yeah all females on base must get a pregnancy test at every medical appointment for precautions” you say as you reach for the door knob to finally make your escape.

The doc hums behind you “especially newlyweds like yourself”

You stumble into the door spinning back around to look at the doc, who looks startled by your reaction. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?!”

“Newlyweds tend to get a little overzealous, you’d be amazed by the number of pregnancies we actually deal with around here sometimes”. You shake your head and wave your hand at him “no the part about me being a newlywed”you demand.

He looks at you confused and then rifles through your file, looking over something before speaking again “well your file got updated about five and a half months ago with a wedding certificate and a new primary emergency contact”

What the actual fuck?! You’re screaming internally because what the actual fuck. It has to be a mistake! Five and a half months ago you were just finally being let out of the hospital wing here on base and moved into the barracks with the 141 team. People don’t just get married without knowing it and you certainly don’t. Bewildered, you look at the doc and say “Doc I think you have the wrong file or something. I didn’t get hitched, I’m not even seeing anyone right now. I don’t even have a next of kin on my file let alone a primary emergency contact”

His brow furrows and he looks down again but shakes his head, “no, it says right here Sergeant Y/N L/N and Lieutenant Simon Riley”

He holds up the paper he is reading from which you can see is a copy of a marriage certificate and sure enough you see your name and Ghost’s name on it as well. “It looks like when this got filed your husband Lieutenant Riley got updated as your new primary emergency contact”

Son of a bitch! You don’t even speak, there are no words at least none for the doc to hear. Without a second though you snatch the paper from his hand and you can hear him protesting as you storm out of the room, down the hall and right out of the med clinic with the piece of paper in hand; heading straight in the direction of the mess hall.

The 141 isn’t hard to miss. Sitting at the same table as usual, one that faces all doors and windows with their backs to the wall, not to mention an over six feet beast of a man with a balaclava isn’t exactly common. Price clocks you first as you storm in and approach the table. He lifts a hand in greeting that you ignore to busy glaring at Ghost who’s listening to something Soap is saying to him but you can see his eyes following you as you walk over.

Getting to the table you harshly pull out a chair, the legs squeaking loudly on the ground and sit down making sure to hold Ghost’s eye contact the entire time. All their eyes are on you now but your glare is being directed solely at Ghost while you look for any indication in his eyes that he knows what you’ve just discovered. An awkward silence falls around the table as you just sit there burning your eyes into Ghost without saying anything, letting the tension build.

Price breaks the silence first “everything go alright at the med check, Seph?”

Not taking your eyes off of Ghost you give Price a nod “yeah still all clear for full activity, doc will send you over the med report later”

“That’s great to hea-”

You cut him off “you know they do extensive blood work at all of these appointments to check my cell count and levels, really fucking annoying but do you know what else they check for?”

You address it to the group but your eyes never leave Ghost’s. The both of you are locked in on each other, neither willing to be the first to look away. No one is answering so you off a clue “I’ll give you hint, only the females on base get checked for it”

After a moment you hear Soap say “pregnancy?”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth has no humor behind it and Ghost’s eyes narrow at you a little bit, probably concerned you are having a breakdown of some sort.

“Correct, Johnny!” you exclaim

“There I was rolling my eyes at the doctor when he told me it came back negative because yeah no shit I could have told him that, and do you know what he says to me? Do you?!”

Your voice getting a little louder, drawing the attention of the table next to you and out of your peripheral you see the other shake their head. Ghost however doesn’t move, just continues to stare at you and if you didn’t know better you would say he wasn’t even breathing.

“He says he knows it’s annoying but that it’s especially important to make sure they are testing newlyweds. NEWLYWEDS!”

There it is a slight change in Ghost’s eyes, if you had blinked you would have missed it. Johnny starts to say something “Lass I think yo-”. Johnny is cut off by you swiping your arm across the table and flinging Ghost’s tray into the table next to you. Standing quickly you slap the marriage certificate down in front of him right where the tray had been.

He doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t move and his eyes never leave yours as you growl out “explain yourself!”

He just continues staring at you, neither of you blinking. You’re breathing heavily, adrenaline and rage racing through your veins. It’s clear you’re ready for a fight.

“Is that a marriage certificate?” you hear Soap ask and you can feel the piece of paper being slipped from under your fingers.

“Holy shit” you hear Gaz say, you can feel his weight as he leans against the table to look at the certificate with Price and Soap.

“You can’t marry people without their knowledge” you seethe at Ghost. Ghost still says nothing but you can see the twinkle in his eye as if he is saying “oh but I can” and it infuriates you more. You hear a snicker from your right and you snap your head in Soap’s direction, slamming your hand down in front of him.

Leaning forward you get right in his face you can see Price has placed his hand on Johnny’s shoulder ready to snatch him back if you lunge. “You think this is funny? If I find out you or anyone of you had anything to do with this I will burn the barracks to the ground while you sleep”

You see Soap gulp, he knows just what level of crazy you are on and that it’s not an empty threat.Turning back to Ghost who has crossed his arms now while he watches you dish out your threat. He looks smug almost, even without you being able to see his face, you can just tell.

You let out a screech and turn kicking the chair you were sitting in before storming out of the mess hall knocking the tray of a corporal out his hands as he gawks at your display.

Once you’ve left all eyes turn to Ghost “I think she may actually kill you Lt” Soap says staring at the door you just left through.

Ghost doesn’t respond but Soap swears he can hear a low chuckle sound come from him before he gets up and heads back through the chow line.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost cod #cod #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick

162 notes · View notes

muletia · 6 months ago

Note

knock out is my fave decepticon and i really like ratchet so i loved your post about their "rivalry" but it was also just really funny like? the loud incorrect buzzer noise. the scare quotes implying that ratchet literally does not see knock out as qualified to be a medic. knock out ranting at whoever he's operating on about his relationship issues. ratchet refusing to let knock out escalate things by avoiding his attempts to kill him and (i'm assuming) probably only escalating things more by doing so. it's a ridiculous situation for you to be in and a different type of exhausting than dealing with megatron and optimus (in part because it's not really reciprocal the way those two are). but even if it isn't from your point of view because you have to put up with it, it is still objectively funny.

yeah, the whole conflict is exsist solely because of knockout who creates his own problems because he’s so desperate to keep you all to himself and his ego is literally the size of the sun. he completely misses the simple fact that ratchet has the upper hand: he doesn’t invade your personal space, cares about your health, and knows how to keep his hands to himself (unless he’s on synth-en, but that’s for another story). knockout focuses solely on the idea that the enemy medic is a threat, that he’s getting in the way of exploiting your attention. i think that during every encounter with the autobots, he’ll be scanning for ratchet, and if he doesn’t find him (because he won’t), he’ll ask them to pass on a message—one the team definitely can’t repeat around kids. but aside from indirect exchanges, it’ll be a while before there’s any direct contact between them, because ratchet doesn’t have the energy or desire to get into reckless fights. he’d much rather dedicate all his energy to taking care of you <3

#be silly #transformers x reader #ratchet x reader #obsessed!ratchet #knockout x reader #obsessed!knockout

219 notes · View notes

lemonade4wanda · 1 year ago

Text

Sleepless nights

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react

Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread

word count - 1.5k

A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!

It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.

It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.

"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"

"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.

"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."

"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.

"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.

You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.

Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.

"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.

He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.

His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.

That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.

"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.

"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.

You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.

As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.

"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.

"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.

"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.

You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."

That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.

"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.

"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."

It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.

"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.

"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha x y/n #hurt/comfort natasha Romanoff #lemonade writes☆•#possibly terrible #im half asleep again

533 notes · View notes

skylarsblue · 2 years ago

Text

✦Incorrect C.O.D Quotes, since AO3 is down✦

Gaz: I wanna know what exactly your type is. Y/N: I'm not just gonna give you more fodder to throw at me- Gaz: I have an idea of it already, but I want details! Y/N: No! Gaz: Like- König! Would you- Y/N: Of fuckin’ course I wanna fuck König! He’s huge, he could LITERALLY snap me in half and my dad didn’t love me, of course I want him to fuck me! Soap: *does that weird inhale-choke-cough*

— (Dick mention + a woman’s experience of a dude making gross comments. It’s funny I swear-) Fem!medic!Y/N: most of the time, people are pretty nice and sometimes impressed when when I bring up I’m a medical professional. Other times…eh.. Soap: Eh? Y/N: Sometimes you get conspiracy theorists. Soap: Ohhhh… Y/N: Some evangelists, gross dudes. Gaz: Gross dudes? What’s the worst you’ve heard? Ghost, sipping a whiskey: This outta be good. Y/N: Uh, once I told this man hitting on me I was a field doctor? He said, and I quote. “Been awhile since my last check up, mind checking me for ball cancer.” And I- Gaz: WHAT Soap: YOU’RE KIDDING Y/N: I am not. I just- I walked away. Price: Fuckin’ hell. Y/N: It’s fine. He got shot in the dick next mission, ended up with a male doctor. Ghost: Karma at its best.

- Graves: Oh FUCK YOU Y/N: Tsk, oooo…you don’t have enough money for that. Soap: HAHA!

- Soap, drunk: Back Street’s back, alright! Do do do do- Gaz, drunk on Price’ shoulders: Dodooodo- Price: Simon, get your boy. Ghost: *picking Soap up by his belt, carrying him like a bag* Yes sir.

- Recruit: When you gonna stop giving me blue balls? Gaz: Whoa hey!- Y/N: Aight, I got my steel toes on. How bout we make’em black and blue? Recruit: I- Y/N: Shut the fuck up. I’ve already turned you down, get a hint. Word of advice? Rather than shoot for the stars, maybe shoot your shot in your lower bracket, yeah? Recruit: Gaz: Someone get a fire extinguisher, this dudes been burned. Soap: On it. *sprays recruit with fire extinguisher*

- Soap: Nice onesie, does it come in men’s? Gaz, in his pyjamas: I think you cum enough in men for the all of us. Soap: ACK- Ghost: *slides out of the room*

- Ghost: Have you ever considered, just once, using your brain first? Soap: Now why would I do that?

- (Insert random name I HC for Laswell’s wife) Kate, after being in a bad explosion and ending up in this hospital: My wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you rubbing me like that on my chest. Diana: I am your wife. Kate …. Diana: :) Heart rate monitor: BEEPBEEPBEEPBE- Kate Hi. Diana: Hehe, hi. Gaz, in the corner: Oh to be in love. Soap: This is disgusting, why can’t I have this? >:,( Gaz: Cause your type in men is awful. Soap: Hey!

- Y/N: *walks into common room* Hello, I am very upset. I feel a meltdown coming on and you are all buff men, so I would like to request being picked up and held like a baby for a short period of time, please. Soap: Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? Y/N: Nope. König: ….*slowly approaches and picks Y/N up from under their arms* Y/N, clinging to him like a koala and hiding in his shoulder: Thank you, I appreciate you. König: *awkward back pat*

- König: :) Y/N: Bloopbloopbloopbloop- Horagi: Y/N! Y/N: What? Horagi: Tha-That is our colo-that is a dangerous man! Y/N: He’s not a dangerous man! Horagi: What are y- Y/N: We’re bloopin’! Bloopbloopbloop- König: -w-

- Price: Kid, I need you to- Gaz & Y/N: *dancing like they don’t have jobs to do* Gaz: Go stink! Y/N: Fuck it up! Gaz: Go stink! Y/N: Fuck it up! Gaz: Go stink! Y/N: That’s what’s up! Gaz: Go stink! Y/N: I’m in love! Price: AHEM Gaz: Oh shit- Y/N: HEEEYY captaaaaiinn, what’s uuupp ahaha… Price: *sigh*

- (Based on; Me if COD was real. Deadass. Full serious. I am not kidding) Gaz: So have you met the Captain yet? Y/N: No. Gaz: Are you nervous? Y/N: No no, I have a firm belief that they’re just people. Obviously I’ll respect him as a superior but that’s nnnnnnnnwho the hell is that? Y/N: *fucking breaking their neck* Gaz: Oh- Nope. No no, THAT is Captain. Don’t think about it. Y/N: I’m thinking about it. Gaz: That’s not allowed. Y/N: Ive done worse for less, if he asks I’m sucking it, you can’t stop me. Gaz: Jesus Bloody Christ- Y/N: Tell him to call me when he’s on leave. Gaz: Stop-

- König: *walks in* Ghost: ?? Soap: Oh, hey! Gaz: Y’a need somethi- König: *picks up Y/N under his arm while humming, leaving the room* König: I love stealing, I love taking things!~ Ghost: What the f-

- Colonel!König: I’m 42 so, I don’t- Y/N: YOU’RE 42?! Colonel!König: Yeah. Y/N: …it’s okay no one has to know babygirl~ König: NEIN! Nein, don’t call me babygirl!-

- (Based on this awful Gaz outfit I saw on Twitter) MILF!Y/N: *doing paperwork* Gaz: Would you date me? Y/N: Baby we couldn’t even get a drink together. You can’t buy me nothin. Gaz: What do you mean? :( Y/N: Look at your outfit! What are you wearing? Gaz: I think I look pretty fly. Y/N: For who, your mom? Gaz: :((

- Gaz: STOP DATING MY CAPTAIN Y/N: ….you know what, I’m gonna start dating him even harder. Gaz: What’s that supposed to mean? Y/N: You know what it means.

- MILF!Y/N: *shoving apple juice into a cart* They gon’ need nutrition. Laswell: How many kids do you have? MILF!Y/N: Eleven! Laswell: So I’m assuming your kids really like apple juice? MILF!Y/N: No but they looove orange juice but they’ve been bad this week. Laswell: What grade are your kids in? MILF!Y/N: Sixteenth grade. Laswell: PFFT Sixteenth- that’s not even a grade! So your kids graduated college? MILF!Y/N: No they, they- …where are my kids?

- (Her “kids” on the other side of the store) Price: Boys please- Gaz: I AM NOT LOSING! Soap, in a fuckin’ headlock with him: Yes you fuckin’ are!! Ghost: *slipping cookies under his mask, he did not pay for them* König: *looking for a fruity snack* Horagi: *grabbing as many packs of spicy chips as he can* Alejandro: This is a disgrace. *holding up frozen burritos* Rudy: These are worse. *motions to frozen tamales* Alex: Did you know you can use coke as rust remover? Farah: …and you want to drink it??

- Y/N: So. Kyle. Gaz, already afraid: …yes? Y/N: I found some of your old playlists… Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: You an emo? Gaz: I was a SCENE as a teenager, get it right.

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod konig #horangi call of duty #alex keller #farah karim #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #kate laswell #call of duty incorrect quotes #modern warfare

2K notes · View notes

sergeant-angels-trashcan · 4 months ago

Text

"we want to make the most accurate medical drama"--the Pitt

ok let's go

accurate:

attending strolls into the middle of chaos with coffee

nurses: gossip gossip GOSSIP DO YOU HAVE THE TEA

attending: lame joke

"why would you threaten to do this on my shift, to me, personally, that's so fucking rude"

degloving IS disgusting

"someone get language services" *three hours later*

'the Pitt' is derogatory unless you WORK there. then it's The Pitt (affectionate)

med student: *exists*

nurse: awww.....it's an idiot

triage is the bad place for clinical staff

everyone: oh my god where's social work

security ten minutes late to the chase

med student: i have done the medicine!

nurse: psst hey you might want to do this

med student: oh my god oh my god yeah that's a good idea let's do that

attending points at the charge nurse: she's the boss i just work here

"where's your tooth"

cancel the discharge we need more imaging

staff: how old is he? *fingers crossed*

parent: 18

staff: FUCK

"i've been waiting two whole hours" wow u must not be dying

"OMG our consult is here!!!!! wym that's not what you're here for"

"we have bad reviews, you need to work on that, our net promoter score is low" so like. you know this isn't an olive garden right

boarding

resident: picks up two rooms

attending:

resident: i'm WoRKING on IT!!

"what is Mental Health Care"

WHY DOES THE WAITING ROOM LOOK LIKE THIS

GCS

frequent flyer patients

not a sexy place to be

inaccurate:

"yes i believe you that your child did not ingest something" lmao ok. maybe this is a peds thing but that's just immediate labs for a kid like that. you KNOW he ingested something

someone who doesn't speak english doesn't know how to say the name of their language (i have never encountered this situation)

no duplicate accounts

not enough registration in general

no calls for EVS

social work is not stressed enough

seems like a logical setup for the ED which is incorrect

#the pitt #late nyte hospital lyfe #the charge nurse/attending dynamic is so yummy good #i don't watch medical dramas so i don't know if that's common #i've seen the attending and charge fight three times tops. once he was picking a fight. and that shit is WILD #it just seems like most medical shows are very smoochy sexy also #and that there was like the one hot shit med student/resident and everyone else is like. just existing #i loved that. i have seen flirting happen maybe 3 times in 3 years #but also now i want dr noah wyle to flirt with me awkwardly and ask me on a date also awkwardly

94 notes · View notes

tinyshyteacup · 3 months ago

Text

TW: cussing, medical descriptions

A:N: I do not understand this culture, heavy use of google, if anything is offensive or incorrect, please let me know so I can adjust -T.S.T.

Part 14

Spare Parts - Part 15

The car was quiet as you drove, only the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle from the radio filling the space. Coco sat in the passenger seat, slouched, legs spread out, watching the world pass by outside the window.

"Not bad, chiquita," he muttered.

You glanced at him. "What?"

"Your drivin'." He smirked, head lolling to the side. "Didn't know you had it in you."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please. You think I can’t handle a car?"

"Nah, nah. Just figured you were one of those ten-and-two, check-the-mirrors-a-million-times kinda girls." He grinned. "Cute, though."

You huffed but didn’t argue.

"How’s your shoulder?" you asked after a moment.

"Eh." He shrugged—then winced. "Still there."

"Amazing medical insight." You scoffed

"You know me, muñeca. Always the scholar."

You shook your head, pulling up to his place.

"C’mon," you said, putting the car in park.

"What, you comin' inside?" His brows lifted, teasing.

"Yeah, Coco. Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out in the doorway."

"Damn." He smirked, tilting his head. "Romantic."

"Fuck sake—get out of the car, Coco."

Coco sat on the edge of his bed, shirtless, watching as you dug through the first aid kit.

The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his chest, highlighting the ink sprawled over his skin.

"You got experience with this, chiquita?" he asked, voice low, amused.

"A little." You grabbed the antiseptic.

"That’s not an answer."

You just gave him a look.

"A'ight." He held up his hands. "Do your thing, nurse."

You moved closer, carefully peeling back the old bandage.

His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, but you didn’t hesitate—not even when you had to steady him by placing your palm against his shoulder.

Coco, though?

He noticed.

He watched you.

Watched the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way your hands moved without hesitation.

You weren’t flinching, weren’t tense—just focused.

For the first time in a long time, you were touching him without fear.

He swallowed.

"What?" you asked, glancing up.

"Nada." He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Alright, you're good."

You smoothed down the fresh bandage over Coco’s shoulder, fingertips lingering without realizing it. His skin was warm, solid, and beneath your touch, you felt him tense—just for a second.

But you didn’t pull away.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even seem to notice what you were doing.

Coco did, though.

He watched you, jaw tight, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression.

"You tryna cop a feel, muñeca, or just really committed to playin' nurse?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it—like he was daring you to notice.

You rolled your eyes, finally drawing back. "You're impossible."

The kitchen smelled like garlic and warm spices, and burnt edges, steam rising from the pan as you stirred.

Letty sat at the table, scrolling on her phone, while Coco leaned back in a chair, stretching his legs out, watching you.

"So." He twirled a fork between his fingers. "You gonna tell me how you got so good at playin’ doctor?"

You paused for a fraction of a second.

"You learn quick when you don’t have a choice." you said, keeping your voice casual.

Coco’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"The fuck does that mean?"

You shrugged, focusing on the food. "Just means I had to be good at things. No big deal."

"Yeah?" He didn’t sound convinced. "Sounds like a big deal, chiquita."

You felt him watching you, felt the weight of his stare.

But you didn’t look at him.

"It’s nothing, Coco."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"You always this bad at lying?"

You finally glanced over, giving him a pointed look.

"You always this bad at minding your business?"

Letty snorted. Coco just grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something almost thoughtful.

You set a plate in front of him, fingers brushing against his wrist for half a second.

He didn’t move.

Neither did you.

The air between you shifted, thickened with something unspoken.

For a second, just a second, you swore he was going to—

"The fuck is this?"

You blinked. "What?"

Coco gestured at the food. "You servin’ me some fancy-ass restaurant meal? Where the hell are the instant noodles?"

Letty kicked his chair.

"Shut up and eat, or I'll take it away, dumbass." You quipped.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Coco woke up slowly, the ache in his shoulder the first thing he noticed.

"Mierda." He muttered, shifting slightly, testing the soreness. It wasn’t as bad as last night, but it was definitely still there.

The next thing he noticed?

The smell.

Something sweet, warm, familiar.

Baked goods.

And then—the music.

It was faint, muffled, but Coco could recognize the rhythm. Some old-school shit, the kind of music that made him think of black-and-white movies and spinning skirts.

What the hell?

Pushing himself up with a low grunt, he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and made his way toward the source.

You had no idea he was there.

Coco leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching.

You were dancing, feet sliding across the tile as you swayed to the music, completely lost in it.

The kitchen was immaculate—the countertops wiped down, the dishes cleaned, and a fresh batch of something golden-brown and perfect cooling on a wire rack.

And you?

You were spinning, a small bounce in your step, humming along to a song only you could hear the words of through your headphones.

Coco smirked.

"Well, shit. I wake up and my house turned into a fuckin' musical"

You jumped so hard you almost dropped the plate in your hands.

"Coco!" You ripped off your headphones, spinning around to face him, wide-eyed and flustered. "Fuck!"

He chuckled, grinning that lazy, amused grin.

"Guess I should start stompin' around like a fuckin' elephant so you know I’m comin'."

You huffed, pressing a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I didn’t want to wake you guys."

"Yeah? Maybe wake me next time so I can tell you to sit your ass down instead of cleanin’ my whole goddamn house."

You crossed your arms, giving him a look. "I was just trying to help."

"Uh-huh." He moved forward slightly, favoring his injured shoulder, and grabbed a fresh-baked pastry from the counter. He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, then pointed at it. "You tryna bribe me with food, muñeca?"

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Coco had been too focused on you dancing around his kitchen to notice it at first. But now, standing by the counter, he caught sight of the small, neatly packed lunch sitting off to the side.

He raised an eyebrow, grabbing it with his good hand, turning it over like he was expecting to find a note or some shit.

"What’s this?"

You glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter, expression casual. "Lunch. I figured Letty had school, so I made her something."

Coco blinked. A beat of silence.

Then—

"Damn, muñeca, you tryna make my kid fall in love with you too?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I just thought, y'know... long night, she might need it."

"Uh-huh." He smirked, tossing the lunch back onto the counter. "You keep doin’ shit like this, you’re gonna give her the wrong idea."

You frowned. "What idea?"

"That you’re stickin’ around."

Your brows furrowed.

You opened your mouth—then shut it again.

You didn’t know what to say.

"How’s the shoulder?" You asked, needing to shift away from that heavy feeling in your chest.

Coco rolled it slightly, grimacing when the pain hit.

"Shit still hurts."

You sighed, stepping closer, instinctively reaching for him. "Let me see."

Coco watched as you peeled back the bandage, your fingers careful, delicate, but not hesitant.

He didn’t miss it.

Didn’t miss how you didn’t flinch when his hand brushed against yours.

Didn’t miss how your body wasn’t stiff anymore.

Didn’t miss how you were touching him without even thinking about it.

That was new.

That was different.

Coco tilted his head, watching you.

"You take care of everybody like this, muñeca, or just me?"

You froze, fingers stilling on the bandage.

His voice was casual, teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something… curious.

You swallowed, trying to force a laugh. "Can’t I just help people."

"Yeah?" Coco smirked, but his eyes were sharp, knowing. "You sure it ain’t just me, chiquita?"

You didn’t answer right away—not in the way he wanted, anyway. Instead, you grabbed the fresh bandages and started reapplying them with slow, careful precision.

Then, without looking up, you muttered—

"You think a sandwich and a little first aid mean you’re special?"

Coco barked out a laugh, wincing when the movement pulled at his shoulder.

"Damn, muñeca," he smirked, voice edged with mock offense. "That’s cold."

"You’ll live," you deadpanned.

Coco shook his head. His eyes flicked down to where your hands worked, gentle but firm, brushing against his skin without hesitation.

That was still fucking with him.

He let it sit for a second before he murmured—

"You touchin’ me like this ‘cause you wanna… or ‘cause you just forgot to be scared?"

Your fingers paused for a fraction of a second.

Coco caught it.

He didn’t say anything else. Didn’t press.

Instead, he shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough to catch your attention.

You looked up at him—and he was already watching you.

The smirk was still there, but his expression had softened, something unreadable settling behind his dark eyes.

His hand came up, slow, fingertips barely grazing your cheek.

"Don’t freak out on me, muñeca," he murmured, his voice low, careful.

"Why would I fr—"

He dipped his head, pausing just before his lips met yours, waiting.

You swallowed—

He closed the gap.

The kiss was light. Tentative. A simple press of his mouth to yours, giving you space to pull away if you wanted.

It was soft.

Unrushed.

When he pulled back, his thumb traced along your cheekbone, just once.

Then—

"Still think I ain’t special?"

Coco pulled back from the kiss, smirking as he studied your expression.

You were frozen, lips slightly parted, eyes flickering with something he couldn’t quite read.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

"You good, chiquita?" Coco teased, voice low and smug.

You blinked.

Then—your brows furrowed.

Not in embarrassment. Not in shyness.

No, this was something else.

Coco frowned slightly. What the hell were you thinking about so hard?

Before he could ask, you moved.

Abruptly.

You stood up, breaking the moment as you grabbed the half-used bandages and began methodically packing up the supplies.

Coco watched you, expression shifting from amusement to confusion.

"Damn, chiquita, didn’t know my kisses were that bad. You need a second to recover?"

You didn’t look at him.

Didn’t even acknowledge the comment.

That was when he knew something was off.

Coco pushed himself up from his chair, stepping into your space without hesitation.

"Damn, muñeca," he smirked, tilting his head. "I break you already? That’s a new record."

He reached out, fingertips brushing your wrist.

You stopped.

Not in the way he wanted.

Not like before.

This was different.

Your posture went rigid.

Your hand curled into a fist around the bandages you’d just folded.

Coco felt it—felt the tension in your body before you even said a word.

Then—

"You hurt me…"

Your voice was quiet. Steady.

"I’ll break your fucking nose."

Coco went completely still.

His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something—but stopped himself.

You weren’t looking at him.

Not really.

You were staring past him, like your mind was somewhere else.

Somewhere old.

Coco exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Damn, muñeca." He let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "That’s a hell of a way to kill the mood."

With slow, deliberate movements, he stepped in close again, closing the space between you before you could pull away.

Then—his fingers brushed your chin.

Not forceful.

Not demanding.

Just enough to make you look at him.

"You got some trust issues, huh?" he murmured, his tone teasing, but softer now.

You didn’t respond.

Didn’t push him away.

Coco dipped his head—slow this time.

Gave you plenty of time to move.

Plenty of time to stop him.

You didn’t.

His lips brushed yours—not hard, not rough.

Just a taste.

A slow, lingering press.

His breath was warm against your skin, tinged with cigarettes.

He pulled back only slightly, his smirk almost lazy.

"See?" he murmured, his voice low and smug.

"Still alive. Nose intact."

Coco’s hand lingered at your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

"What’d you think I was gonna do, muñeca?" His tone was mock-offended. "Bite you?"

You shot him a glare.

Coco just grinned.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans imagine #mayans mc headcanons #mayans mc #our favourite bikers #johnny coco cruz x you #johnny coco cruz x reader #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz imagine #coco cruz mayans #coco cruz #mayans fanfic

62 notes · View notes

acrazyvictorianscientist · 6 months ago

Text

Since my last one did so well, here’s more TF2 incorrect quotes!!

Scout, on the phone with Pauling: So no head?

Scout: *Throws phone and breaks skateboard*

Scout on Monday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Scout on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

Heavy, gently nudging Medic aside with his foot: Herbie, move out of way so Heavy doesn’t don’t trip on you.

Medic, his eyes enormous: You kick Doctor? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Misha! Jail for Misha for one thousand years!

Spy: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

Demoman & Soldier in the back of Sniper's car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

Spy: We have food at home.

Sniper: *pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough*

Demoman & Soldier: YAYYYYYY!

Sniper: *orders one black coffee and leaves*

Pyro, behind their mask: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

Heavy: Do you want to know your gay name?

Medic: My... my gay name?

Heavy: да. It is Doktor first name-

Medic: Haha. Very funny Misha-

Heavy: *gets down on one knee* And Heavy last name.

Medic: Oh- oh mein gott.

Pyro: Gender? Ha, yeah. I totally have one of those, definitely. There's some sort of gender around here, gimmie a second.

Pyro, throwing dirty laundry around: Shit. I know it was here... I saw it yesterday!

Pyro, crawling around on the floor, looking under things: Ugh... Sorry, gimmie a sec... I swear, I had it just the other day...

Engineer : Do you have any idea what you’re doing?

Soldier: Why start now?!

Sniper: Do you love me?

Spy: So much. Why?

Sniper: Just checking. It seems like you want me to die.

Spy: Where did you get that tomato soup?

Soldier: It’s actually a bowl of ketchup I just microwaved!

Demoman: I am 39 cheetos tall.

Medic: Why... are you measuring your height in cheetos?

Demoman: Because we're out of doritos.

Scout: Spy doesn’t look very happy.

Sniper: That's his happy. He’s just a bitch.

Medic: Christmas lights?

Sniper: Check.

Pyro: Thermos of hot cocoa?

Sniper: Check.

Scout: Santa suits?

Sniper: Check.

Engineer: Shovel?

Sniper: Check.

Spy: Alibi and bail money?

Sniper: Check- wait, WHAT?!

*The team’s reaction to being told they're the chosen one*

Soldier: I will not let you down.

Scout: Sounds fun.

Sniper: K.

Heavy: No, I'm fucking not.

Spy: Do I have to be?

Engineer : Please god, I am so tired.

Engineer: No problemo.

Narrator: But it was all problemo.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 demoman #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #victor’s ramblings

84 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 2 months ago

Text

Violent Tendencies - Tempest

Sheriff! John Price x AFAB! Fem! Reader

~Small Town AU~

Warnings: Love at first fight?? mildly graphic descriptions of violence, blood, descriptions of injuries, descriptions of physical abuse, therapy, references to depression, medication, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse, probably incorrect descriptions of time in a juvenile detention hall, reader definitely has anger issues and is unhinged asf

Word Count: 4.8k

Author's Note: Yeah, so I'm obsessed I guess. I didn't plan on having any other parts for this stupid fucking Captain but here we are! This dives into the reader's background, we learn quite a lot about Tempest! I'm getting attached to her ngl

Series Masterlist

Part One Here - Part Four Here

Enjoy!~

***

You remember the first fight you’d ever gotten into. Being shoved off the public park swing at six years old, skinning your knees and hands on the gravel. The kid who pushed you was maybe eight or nine, a girl with obnoxiously tight pigtails and a frilly pink dress. You remember the sting on your hands and shins, the red that leaked onto the gravel. You remember her shrill voice, the way she couldn’t quite pronounce her words fully. She taunted you from that swing, leaning back then kicking you in the stomach when you turned to stand, sending you a few feet into the gravel again. Her mother scolded her gently, a ‘we don’t do that, sweetie’ while your parents asked the woman what the fuck was wrong with her and her daughter. Something clicked in you that day, finally gaining your breath back and tackling her off the swing, tiny fists pummeling her face, grabbing her by the pigtails only to slam her head into the gravel.

She screamed bloody murder.

Your mother was the one to rip you off the girl, your father not far behind and the girl’s mom was screaming just about the same as her little demon spawn. Getting back home was a blur, and you don’t quite remember how you got cleaned up, but when the alcohol stung your scrapes you came back to yourself. Your father cleaned them gently, not a single word uttered until everything was put away.

“You know you hurt someone today, right?” You nod, a little nervous. You’ve never been scolded before, not like this, not with dad barely keeping it all together. He sounds so angry, but so quiet.

“She hurt me first.” He nods, and you wait. The fear that he’ll start yelling crawls over your skin.

“What you did was wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” You aren’t, not really. But you think that’s what he wants to hear.

“Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it. I’m not saying what you did was okay, and I’m not saying you can do it again, but…” He kneels before you, tugging your hands into his own in your lap.

“You stood up for yourself, in the only way you knew how. I’m proud of you for not letting her do whatever she wanted. But next time, you need to let me and ma handle it, okay? Just come tell us next time.”

Next time, they weren’t around. It was at school a month later, a boy in your class decided he’d yank on your hair. He pulled hard enough that you fell backward and slammed your head on the concrete. The teacher got to him first, pulling him off to the side and nearly yelling at him about personal space and keeping his hands to himself. You don’t remember what else he said to him, something about calling his parents, but it all floats away from your memory once the red crept in. You had yanked his own hair the same way he did to you, and when he hit his head on the ground you made sure to do it again. You got a kick to his arm before the teacher yanked you off, dragging the both of you to the office.

Your parents were fuming.

After the third incident, the yelling started. You never cried, never lashed out at them, but you always did stand your ground. You’d never started a fight, but you sure as hell finished them all, and you got into the habit of always wrapping your hands up to avoid a trip to the hospital with a broken hand. The first time you slept in the sheriff’s cell you’d just pummeled a girl for shoving ice cream in your face and down your shirt. You were fourteen, and her boyfriend apparently liked you. Whoever he was. She had to go to the hospital for a dislocated shoulder and a broken nose, and you got handcuffs and a bed in a cell.

Almost poetic, now that you think about it. The incident that landed you your first night in a cell being a precursor to the incident that landed you in juvie.

“You’re the little shit that beat up my sister two years ago.” He was bigger than anyone you’d faced before. Maybe eighteen, well into his growth spurt, but his voice was still transitioning, cracking all over the place. Like his hormones.

“I’ve beat up a lot of people. Your sister ain’t special.” You just wanted to go the fuck home after a long ass school day, trying your damndest to not fist fight everyone who looked at you sideways. You’ve been angrier lately. You’re trying not to let it get to you. Keyword: trying.

“Broke her nose, popped her shoulder out, stole her boyfriend? Ringing any bells?” Oh, right. You still don’t know who the boyfriend was.

“I didn’t steal shit. I don’t know who the jackass was that broke up with her for another girl, but whoever it was, I didn’t get the memo.” He shrugs, making his way toward you with a weird swagger in his step, like spacing his feet out wide would scare you.

“Don’t care. You hurt her real bad, so I’m about to hurt you.” Fucking hell. He’s bigger than you, you’re probably not coming out of this without a few bruises, but he’s slow. He’s overweight, and doesn’t look like he’s been in any real fight before. Not the way he swings without aiming at anything. Packs a punch, though, your arm is gonna have a bruise where you’d blocked him from hitting you in the jaw. He’s wide open, too, and it’s way too easy to kick him in the family jewels with the way he’s standing. Once he’s down you’re a whirlwind of fists. You couldn’t count how many punches you threw, don’t remember much outside of the crunch of his face beneath your knuckles and the way his head snapped back and forth every time you hit him. You stomped his chest in, too, after your wrists grew weak and your wraps were bloody enough your fists slipped over his skin.

You almost killed him.

A broken rib almost punctured his lung, his skull was cracked where it slammed against the concrete, broken nose and fractured facial bones, two black eyes, a fractured sternum. The trial was small. You had an attorney appointed to you, as mandated by law. They managed to lower your sentence from a year to nine months, but that’s as good as it got. The family tried to get you in for attempted murder, but it fell through. Aggravated assault was the next best option. Getting to the detention center was a long two hours. The freeways were too far out of the way, so you had to stay on the backroads. It was one of the deputies that took you up. She knew you, saw you get into quite a few of your fights.

“I know they aren’t entirely your fault, but you can’t keep going like this.” At the time, you tried to ignore her words. “There’s always gonna be assholes out there that deserve to be punched once or twice, you just gotta let it go. It’s not worth the energy. Or jail time.”

“I think it’s worth the jail time.” You can see her jump when you finally speak an hour into the drive.

“How’s that?”

“The guy I almost killed. He was willing to attack a sixteen year old girl half his size for some kind of grudge. If it wasn’t me, it woulda been a girl that couldn’t fight back.” She doesn’t comment on it, and the rest of the ride is silent.

The hall is bigger than you imagined it. You were expecting something run-down, a facility nobody really cared about. Bigger than you’d thought, but it isn’t massive by any means, only capable of holding maybe a hundred from the surrounding states or towns. It’s nowhere near max capacity. Maybe twenty girls and thirty boys, the exact number not something you care to know. Most of them are in for theft, drugs, or vandalism. The girl you share a ‘room’ with is in for excessive drinking. The next room over holds a thief and a coke addict. The druggie must be from a bigger town, to be able to get hold of that kind of substance. The worst that’s ever come to your town is weed, and even then it’s far from a hard drug. Everything else is heavily monitored in the hospital, and nothing slips through the cracks of a supply that tiny.

The community areas are co-ed, you’re told, so the boys and girls will be able to mingle in those areas only. Not that you care. That includes the cafeteria, courtyard, and classrooms if they’re open for things like meditation, group therapy, and the arts. The moment you finish your lunch, though, you hone in on the bag swinging in the corner of the courtyard, beneath a large awning to keep the exercise equipment clustered beside it all dry should the weather turn. It's about ten minutes in when you’re shoved from the side, rolling over after landing on your shoulder a little too hard for your liking. There’s a rough, sharp voice cutting through your anger.

“Get lost, newbie. Bag’s mine.” He isn’t even looking at you, already tearing into the bag with a ferocity you’ve only ever imagined you had. It pisses you off. He only stumbles sideways when you shove him back, turning to you with what you think is probably just annoyance. You don’t really care to give him time to fully react before you swing and hear a low crack, his head snapping backward as he stumbles and falls on his ass. There’s a groan, and you’re on top of him, throwing punches like your life depended on it. But he’s a lot faster than that girl’s brother, been in fights, lean and strong, maybe used to play a contact sport before ending up here. Your wrists stop moving when he catches them and then you’re tossed off to the side, rolling onto your back.

He’s heavy when he pins your thighs with his knees, throwing punches while you block with your arms. He catches your collar bone, and fuck does it hurt, but the adrenaline you’re getting from the whole thing is dulling a lot of the pain. This is the first time someone’s put up a fight like this, you realize, and suddenly you’re not angry so much as elated, a brand new feeling roaring to life like a propane fire. You go back and forth, rolling over each other until finally you’re ripped apart, and when you look at him you swear there isn’t a sight in the world that could possibly come close.

His eyes are so blue. Striking and electric, vibrant to contrast the red pouring from his nose, soaking his white shirt. His grin is almost feral, like a rabid animal, blood seeping into the spaces between his teeth and the cracks of his lips. You think you might be smiling, too, but you aren’t entirely sure. The guard has him immobile, arms hooked around his shoulders to keep his hands out to his sides and lifting him up off the ground. He could probably fight the guard, thrash until he drops him, but he doesn’t seem to care that you’re both being dragged away. You aren’t sure you care, either, the sharp pain in your collar an afterthought to the beauty you’ve witnessed.

Your right arm is in a sling. You’re back at the punching bag, staring daggers at it with a simmering anger and a strange contentment as you think back on the events from yesterday. You can’t get him out of your head. There’s an entirely foreign feeling swirling around in your chest as you think about him. Warmth, thick and heavy like honey that’s sat in the sun. Fondness you’d only ever felt for your parents sometimes. You don’t even know his name, and part of you is wondering if this is what love feels like. Some call it a spark, some an innate instinct, some say it’ll kill you if you aren’t careful.

That voice snaps you out of your head.

“It’s a damn shame you can’t hit the thing for a while.” You almost roll your eyes. Almost.

“Like you care. You’re the one who broke my collarbone, jackass.” He chuckles, and you hate the way it sends a chill down your spine. When you look at him those eyes have your breath freezing in your lungs for a moment. Then his face comes into full focus, a red bruise at his temple, nose just a little crooked, top lip split. You sure did a number on him.

“Just thought I’d give you a warm welcome is all. Didn’t know you were so volatile, normally people just fuck off once I shove ‘em away.” You actually scoff at the notion.

“I don’t fuck off to anything.”

“I think I’m realizing that now. Little thunderstorm you are. You gonna hit me again?” He sounds like he wants you to.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You haven’t pissed me off yet, and I’m one arm down.” You’re surprised to admit to yourself he isn’t anywhere near pissing you off. He huffs a little laugh, then puts a hand on the small of your back. You aren’t sure why you let him move you behind the bag, turn you so your left can hold it steady without compromising your injured side.

“Hold it for me, would you?”

“Now why the hell would I do that?” His smile is lopsided, canines sharp. It throws you mentally sideways.

“Cause then you get to work on your stance, and I get a steady bag. And when you’re all healed up, I’ll hold it for you. Sound like a deal?” He sticks his left hand out for you to take.

“John Price.” Hesitantly, you reach your own hand out, and the heat from his palm in yours crawls over your skin. You give him your name, and he says it like he’s tasting something new, rolling it around and savoring it.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” It’s so genuine you almost forget you’d bludgeoned each other less than 24 hours ago. “We got a deal, Tempest?” Your face scrunches up at the word.

“That’s not my name.” He shrugs, holding onto your hand tight.

“Sounds pretty damn close to me. Tempest. A violent windstorm. Say what you want but it fits.” Something about it sets your soul on fire. You’ve never had a nickname, not even from your parents. Nothing tender, nothing special, nothing yours. Hearing it from anyone else, you might break their nose for it. For some reason it’s different coming from him. A boy you barely know, one you’d traded fists with. He pulls on your arm hard enough to have you squishing your hands between you, and you realize he’s taller than you thought when you have to suddenly look up.

“So? Do we have a deal, Tempest?” You huff, the cobalt in his gaze piercing through you.

“We have a deal, Price.”

Your mandated therapist sees a stark change in you, after that. She mentions finding you incredibly different from your file, not the kind of personality type she expected from an almost-murderer. Your words, not hers. She says you’ve changed between your entry session and the two days immediately after. You seem less angry, not as easily aggravated. She asks if what happened between you and John Price scared you.

“No.”

“That was a pretty quick response. You’re sure it didn’t give you a fright? You’re used to not getting a fight back, used to just taking someone down in seconds.”

“I’m sure. He didn’t scare me at all.”

“So what did he do? If it didn’t scare you, what did you feel?” You’re not sure you want to answer. Surely she’d think you were insane, just like everyone else. “Did he make you angrier than usual? Or are you maybe saddened by the thought that you’ve met an opponent you can’t win against?” You huff out a sigh, becoming agitated for the first time in days.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“What don’t I kn-”

“I think I’m in love with him.” There’s a very long, very tense silence, and for once in your life you wish you could run from it. But you can’t, not with the guard stationed outside the room to keep you in your session for the allotted time slot. You’re sweating. You don’t usually sweat from nerves, but you’re sweating.

“Well that was unexpected. I’m glad you’re feeling positive emotions. Why do you think you love him?” You aren’t very sure of that, either.

“I don’t know. He just looked so familiar, so perfect, when we were pulled apart. And when he actually hit back, I wasn’t so angry anymore. I was happy. I was so happy I thought he hit me a little too hard in the head. But then the guards tore us apart and he looked like he was staring into my soul. Like he could see me at my core and liked what he saw.” You really didn’t mean to say all of that. It all came pouring out, a stopper pulled to drain the sea.

“You feel he understands you.” There’s this look in her eyes, like she knows she’s right.

“Yeah. That.”

The day eventually came that you had to leave. Your time was up, you served your sentence. It was bittersweet. You get to leave the hall, but you’ll be leaving John behind as well. Might as well rip the bandaid off, you don’t bother giving him any information on how to find you once he’s out too. He doesn’t give anything up either. You don’t ask.

Going back home was surreal. Your parents…they had been instilled with a fear of you that you didn’t realize was there until after you’d gotten back. It was a lot like they were walking on eggshells around you. You’d told them you’d never hurt them, they’re your parents, but that didn’t ease their anxieties. There was a period of time when you did nothing. Nothing at all. Going to school like normal, doing the bare minimum for homework, then rotting in bed.

The new therapist, the one you were mandated to see for three months, says it’s depression. You don’t take the meds they prescribed. You don’t lie when they ask if you did. You tell them you don’t think they’ll work.

You think it’s not depression at all. You think it’s heartbreak.

You learn to live without him. A fight breaks out a year after you’re released, and you wind up back in the sheriff’s cell. Another year later you’re back again, and another year later the sheriff’s starting to show his age. The fights are less frequent, once the exhaustion settles in. You can’t sleep at night after a while. Part of you thinks you’re better for it. A very small part.

Laswell picks you up one day when you’re walking home after being fired. Nobody likes employing the town’s most volatile resident. She’s a couple years older than you, says her dad recently bought up the one diner in town, the previous owner tired and old. You knew her, she was decently nice to you. When you ask why she’d do that for you, she says you remind her of someone she knows. You stopped getting into fights after that.

A grand total of eight years goes by. Dad got done in by a tumor he didn’t bother to get treated. Said when he goes he goes, and he did. Mom left you soon after from a heart attack. You’re all alone in a house that’s too damn big and empty. You haven’t landed a single punch for five years. The rage you used to be so intimate with feels foreign in your body, completely lacking the energy to calm the itch beneath your skin.

There’s a meeting at the town hall arranged by the sheriff. He’s graying, well into his fifties, but the stress of the job is clearly getting to him. It’s a retirement announcement, and a replacement announcement all in one go.

Your heart beats back to life when the replacement sheriff comes up on stage, electric blue eyes glancing over the small crowd of the town. Thick facial hair decorates his face now, and he’s a lot bigger than you remember him, but that’s John Price. Your John Price. He’s in the middle of his little blurb he’d prepared when he locks eyes with you, choking on his words. The old sheriff brings him back to himself, and he breaks from your gaze, but you know he recognizes you.

You don’t talk to him after that. You aren’t sure you could. You know you’ve changed, you know you’re different than when you knew him eight years ago. Two long years go by, you don’t see him much if at all with your overnight shifts. Sleep doesn’t come easier, but you’re not as angry and sad as you used to be. Then Phil happens, and somewhere in your head you have to say thank you to him for reconnecting you with John.

Ten years ago, if you were told you’d be sharing a bed with John Price later in life, you’d have believed it. Hell, you’d have a harder time believing he’s the sheriff in the town you grew up in. Waking up on his bare chest is something you never knew you wanted so bad. The thick dark hair covering his skin, soft where he lays but the muscle beneath is nothing to laugh at. He’s still John Price, after all.

“What’s goin on in that pretty head, Tempest?” You hum, gently scratch at his chest, bury your fingers in the thicket of curls.

“Thinking about the day we met. And the day after.”

“Yeah? What about it?” You tilt your head back to look into his eyes, that same electric blue.

“Sixteen year old me was trying to figure out if she was in love with you.” He lifts an eyebrow.

“If?” You shrug.

“Didn’t know what that kind of love felt like.” He hums, digging his fingers into your scalp.

“Neither did I. But I was sure I loved you. Nothing else could feel like that. Like everything suddenly got brighter and clearer and my lungs had too much oxygen.” Silence lapses between you as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I never asked what put you there.” His hand brushes stray hair from your face.

“Aggravated assault.” You nearly jump from his hold.

“Really? I mean, I’m not surprised, but I got the same charge.”

“Well I’ll be damned. A match made in hell huh?” You giggle then, at the thought of you being matched to each other by a higher force.

“Care to tell me what you did?” He pushes a sigh from his lungs.

“My dad was a real piece of shit. I picked up too many of his bad impulses, made sure to nip ‘em in the bud after juvie once I realized I looked a little too much like him.” You press yourself closer to his side, making sure to look him in the face even if he’s glaring up at the ceiling. “He hit me and mom a lot. When I got old enough, and he got drunk enough, I started hitting him back. He ended up in a coma after I beat him half to death for breaking his beer bottle over mom’s head, and I ended up in the nearest juvenile detention hall.” He doesn’t seem all that beat up about it, but you’re not going to treat it like he doesn’t care. He put his own father in a coma, after all.

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“I’m not. In a way, I gotta thank the bastard for letting me meet you.” Well that’s definitely one way to look at it.

“Was your mother okay, after everything?” His hum is low, and he looks sad suddenly.

“She was alright physically. Mentally, she’d been gone since dad started getting violent. I buried her a few years after juvie. Dad woke from the coma just to die of a failed kidney not long after I lost her.”

“Oh, John.” He looks down at you again, petting your head when you nuzzle into his chest.

“Don’t look so down, Tempest. I’ve made my peace with everything. What were you in for, anyway?” You’re sure he could take a change of subject. You don’t try to push it.

“Some girl was upset ‘cause her boyfriend had the hots for me, smeared an ice cream cone over my face. I hurt her pretty bad, dislocated her shoulder, broke her nose. Her brother found me a couple years later to hurt me back and he ended up in the hospital. The prosecutor said if I’d kicked his chest one more time his rib would’ve punctured his lung. The family wanted to get me in on attempted murder, but it didn’t work out for them.” There’s a low laugh rumbling in his chest while he tugs you closer, squeezing you to his side.

“That’s just like you, isn’t it Tempest? You regret nearly killing the guy?” You shake your head. Only he would find an almost attempted murder charge amusing.

“Nah. I said the same to the deputy that drove me to the hall. If it wasn’t me he hunted down, it was some other girl half his size that wouldn’t put up a fight.”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl. What about your family? What did they have to say about it?”

“Not a lot. I’d been kicking and punching my way through life since I was six, and they’d had just about enough of me. After the first night I spent in the cell at the sheriff’s station, they stopped hearing my side of the story. I used to think I was made wrong, ‘cause neither of my parents had my temper. Never regretted my fights though, I never started shit, just made sure I finished it.” His hand trails up and down your hip, rough palm and fingers scraping gently across the softness there. The motion feels so right you aren’t sure how you lived so long without him beside you.

“Sounds a lot like how I used to be. Whatever was started, whoever started it, I finished it there and then.” You’re a lot alike, the two of you. You think if you’d have met outside of juvie, the outcome would have been the same. Like how a tornado is always made the same way. Hot and cold air swirling together and charging the atmosphere until the funnel touches the ground. No matter how you met, when you met, you’d always end up right here in his arms. You’re sure of it.

“John?” He hums, looking down at you. “Was it your idea to share the bag?”

“Yup. The guards wanted us to stay apart, my assigned shrink got too damn close to a restraining order. Begged him not to do it.” Your jaw drops to the floor.

“You begged a psychologist not to mandate a distance between us?”

“On my fucking knees, darlin’. I think the shock of seeing the rampaging teen beg for once in his life convinced him to drop it if I could somehow guarantee we never fought again.” You’re shocked, truly. Never in a hundred lifetimes would you imagine John Price was even capable of begging for anything.

“Well, it’s good to know I wasn’t the only one to admit to my therapist I’d fallen in love with the boy I fist-fought the first day there.” His laugh is sharp and loud, surprise making his belly jump with the noise.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Oh yeah. She thought I was scared of you. Pushed until I spit it the fuck out.” He laughs again. It’s probably your favorite sound.

“If she saw you the way I saw you, she’d know you weren’t scared of jack shit. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you looked like you wanted to get me in bed.” With a low chuckle, you spread your fingers over his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath his skin.

“I could say the same about you, mister. Looked like you wanted to eat me alive.” The arm beneath you flexes, and you’re tugged over him, straddling his hips while he looks up at you with blown pupils.

“I did. If we were left to our own devices I might have tried to fuck you right there in the courtyard, broken nose and all.”

“I might have let you.” The hands on your hips squeeze tight, then drag up your sides to feel you beneath his palms.

“You’re fucking perfect, Tempest. And all mine. Been mine forever.”

“Damn right, John Price.”

Then he’s kissing you silly.

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #price cod #captain price

43 notes · View notes