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restlessfandoming · 3 years

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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 7) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

UPDATE: this is now it’s own standalone fic on AO3! (since it’s much longer than the fics/oneshots i usually put in “i’ll fight the stars for you”)

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 7)

I love you, Lumine. I love you, Lumine.

I love you I love you Iloveyouiloveyou.

Those were the only words bouncing around the walls of Lumine’s skull as she dashed down the stairs, desperate to reach Childe as soon as possible.

Oh, and the thought of, You idiot. You idiot. YOU IDIOT, CHILDE!

She ran past globs of students, who all turned their heads in confusion, as the President—who was usually the one who shouted, “No running down the hallways!”—was now the one rushing past everyone.

She burst out of one of the school’s side entrances, making her way to the pool area where she had seen him fall.

Please be alive, you idiot.

She rounded the corner, going through the metal fence gate, the subtle smell of pool water entering her nose. Then the pool was in her sight.

Sitting on the edge, was Chlide, alive. His school uniform was dripping wet and shredded, his face and body were covered in scratches, and there were twigs tangled in his orange locks. He was taking in shuddering breaths, one hand holding his side painfully.

Lumine finally let herself slow down, taking staggering steps towards Childe. At the sound of her footsteps approaching, he looked up.

He smiled widely, and held up the photo that had fallen. “I’m pretty awesome, aren’t I?” he said.

Lumine just looked at him, him smiling at her like all of the pain in his body had suddenly disappeared. You’re in pain, idiot. Stop smiling, she wanted to say.

But instead, her legs shook under her, and she collapsed onto her knees next to him, unable to stop the stupid meek smile breaking out on her face. “Yes,” she conceded quietly. “Yes, you are.” She took in a shaky breath. “Don’t...don’t ever do something like that again.”

A tiny chuckle came from Childe. “What’s this? The President is worried about me? And not the other way around for once?”

Before Lumine could respond, the two heard the shuffling of footsteps, and the student council came through the gates to the pool.

Bennett came forward to Lumine. “What’s going on? We heard a commotion—”

Lumine stood up. “Hospital! We have to get a hospital for Childe!”

“Oh my! What happened?” Noelle asked worriedly.

Lumine blinked. Maybe it’s time I tell them the truth. If they had known the truth, something like this wouldn’t have happened…

“Same old, same old,” Childe spoke up before Lumine could. “Pres was chasing me down to write me up for skipping class, so I jumped off the roof.” He shrugged. “No big deal.”

Xiao sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You thought jumping off the roof was the best way to avoid being written up?”

“Nevermind that!” Amber started running. “I’ll go call an ambulance straight away!”

The rest of the student council followed Amber, except for Aether, who stood a few feet away, his mouth in a taut line.

Lumine frowned, and went to him. “Aether, is something wrong?” she asked quietly.

He looked at her, and Lumine knew straight away he was disappointed. “No.” He turned away. “Let’s go get that ambulance for our dear friend.” He walked off.

Lumine watched his receding back with furrowed brows. Aether was always one to get along with anyone, never expressing any sort of dislike for any individual.

And yet, the venom behind “our dear friend” had Lumine convinced Childe was his arch nemesis, which did not sit well with her at all. For some odd reason or another, she wanted Childe and her brother to get along.

“What was that about?” Childe asked.

“I don’t know…,” Lumine responded. “But I intend to find out.”

* * *

After going with Childe to the hospital, Lumine and Aether found themselves waiting outside his room as he underwent various examinations to see what damage had been done to his body.

The hallways had quieted down, a few doctors and nurses walking back and forth, with muted conversations humming far away. Lumine and Aether sat next to each other in silence.

A few more moments passed, then Lumine finally broke the silence. “Aether, tell me what’s wrong.”

He took a deep breath in. “What were you doing with Childe?” he asked.

Lumine sighed. “I was doing Albedo’s study and Childe showed up. I told Albedo that him and I weren’t friends, and he seemed upset by it, so I went to talk to him.”

Aether stared at the tiled ground beneath them for a while. “Are you?” he finally said. “Are you two friends?”

“I love you, Lumine.” Lumine rubbed her forehead, trying to get Childe’s words out of her mind. “Kind of. Something like that. I guess.”

“You really don’t sound so sure.”

“Would it be so bad, Aether?” she nearly snapped. “Would it really be so bad if Childe and I were friends?”

Aether frowned slightly. “Lumi, I told you that getting involved with him was a bad idea. We have no idea who he is and what he does when he isn’t around us. And, if anyone found out the two of you are ‘friends?’ Well, you can bet that your reputation would go straight down the drain.”

Lumine stared at her twin. Yes, everything he had said was true. He was always the sensible one, the thinker of the two. Lumine, on the other hand, acted on her feelings; she was the instigator, the fighter.

And her feelings knew something wasn’t right.

“You don’t know him. The people at school don’t know him,” she answered quietly. “You guys aren’t the ones who have seen how kind and selfless he can be.”

“Lumine, what are you talking about—”

“He's been there for me a lot recently. He’s saved my ass more than I can admit, and I think that speaks for itself.” She clasped her hands together. “I don’t think he’s such a bad guy as we thought in the past.” She looked up at her brother. “Give him a chance.” He deserves it...after all he’s done for me.

Aether’s face was worn with confusion and pain. Lumine could understand why.

As twins, they always had a special connection together. They were always best friends, knew all of each other’s secrets, always following each other, always side-by-side.

And now, they were on two different sides. All because of one orange-haired troublemaker.

The door next to them opened, and out walked the doctor, who informed the twins they could go in and see Childe if they wished, before heading off.

Lumine stood while Aether remained seated. She waited by the door, but Aether didn’t budge.

“I…,” he started. He stood up slowly. “I’ll see you back home.”

There was a twinge in Lumine’s heart as she watched her brother walk away. She had half a mind to go after him, to agree with him, and have her life return back to normal.

But she didn’t move. She stayed right there, her hand on the door handle.

And then the door opened, pulling her abruptly inside, and causing her to trip over her own feet.

Fortunately, Childe caught her.

“Childe?” Lumine looked up at him with wide eyes. There were bandages wrapped all over his body, and his face was twisted in a wince as he struggled to hold her up.

Lumine quickly scrambled out of his arms. “What are you doing up?! Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

Childe rubbed his arms. “I got bored.” He tilted his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school right now?”

“Why would I be at school when you’re—”

“Injured?” A large smile stretched across Childe’s face. “So you’d rather be here to take care of me than be a responsible president and stay at school?”

Heat crept into Lumine’s face. “I am being responsible,” she said. “I was the one who got you here in the first place,” she continued as she went to the hospital bed, readjusting the pillows and blankets, “so it’s only right that I am here for your recovery as well.”

“What a treat,” Childe chimed. “The President is playing nurse for me.” He turned towards the door. “I’ll have to indulge later. Being cooped up in here all day has made me antsy.”

Lumine threw herself against the door, shutting it closed. “If you don’t like being cooped up, I’d say you should actually rest so you can recover quicker.”

Childe laughed, then put an arm above Lumine’s head, and leaned forward, his body towering over hers. “Make me,” he murmured, his face dangerously close to hers.

I love you, Lumine.

His words flashed through her mind, and her whole body jolted with electricity.

She put her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “I-If you don’t,” she stuttered. Her eyes focused on the floor, unable to meet Childe’s intense gaze. “I-I’ll hate you forever.” After a moment, she looked up to see Childe’s expression had softened.

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Well, now.” He moved back from her. “I wouldn’t like that very much.” He made his way back to the bed, leaning back on the pillows. He looked back to her, blue eyes shining. “Does this mean you actually like me right now?”

“S-Shut up!” she blurted. She flung the door open, and muttered, “I’ll be right back,” before stepping out of the room.

She let out a shuddering breath, leaning against the closed door.

Damn you, Childe.

Her hand clutched her shirt, feeling her heavy heartbeat through her chest.

What are you doing to me?

* * *

Lumine looked over the list in her hand, stacking up all the books and paperwork she needed. She picked up the heavy stack, shuffling towards her front door.

“Where are you going with all that?” Aether asked behind her.

Uh-oh.

“I…” She started to come up with a lie, but stopped herself. Aether wasn’t someone she could lie to. She sighed, setting the books down.

“I’m going to Childe’s place,” she said. “He’s been out of school recovering so I’m going over to help catch him up.”

Aether stared at her. Lumine braced herself for another lecture about her involvement with Childe.

But then he stepped forward, picking up half the stack of books.

“I’m coming too,” he said simply, walking out the door.

Lumine was confused, speechless.

What was he doing?

* * *

“Are you sure this is his house, Lumi?” Aether asked.

Lumine looked down at the piece of paper with Childe’s address written on it. “That’s what he wrote here.”

Before them stood a grand estate, something Lumine and Aether had only seen in movies—a great stone mansion decorated with lush topiary gardens, glistening fountains, and delicately stoned pathways, all guarded with tall, iron fencing and a large gate currently blocking them.

“How...How do we get in?” Lumine wondered.

Suddenly a black box attached to a nearby stone pillar buzzed to life.

“Please state your business,” a voice crackled from the box.

Lumine approached the box carefully. “I am, uhm, a classmate of Childe’s,” she answered. “I’m here to help him study?”

There was a long pause. Then the gate buzzed as well, and slowly started opening.

“Master Childe will greet you at the front door,” the voice informed.

Lumine and Aether exchanged confused looks.

Master Childe?

The twins made their way up the long stone driveway, finally reaching the grand double doors. Lumine awkwardly knocked.

After a moment, the doors swung open, and Childe stood there, an equally confused expression on his face. “You...You actually came?”

Lumine blinked. “...Was I not supposed to?”

“Well, I never expected you to actually come here.” Childe let out a tiny chuckle, laced with disbelief. “But here you are.” He looked at Aether. “With the Vice Pres too.”

“Of course,” Lumine responded, indignant. “Studying is serious business.”

“Is this...actually your house?” Aether asked.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry: I didn’t steal some random house for a joke.” He gestured behind him. “Come on in.”

The two blondes made their way through the doorway, and both of their mouths fell open at the sight of the interior, which was just as grand as they suspected: tall, vaulted ceilings, polished marble flooring, huge windows that bathed the walls with bright light. A glass chandelier dangled above, and a wide, grandiose staircase sat before them.

Before the two could soak it all in, there was a mad pattering of footsteps coming from the stairs, and three tiny heads bobbed into view at the top—three children who looked like Childe: all varying degrees of adorable orange hair, blue eyes, and freckles.

“Ah, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer!” he called to them. The children in question, shyly ducked out of sight. Childe sighed, crossing his arms. “Now, now, remember? You must always kindly greet guests, right?”

There was a burst of giggles, before the children came clambering down the stairs, standing before Lumine and Aether.

“This is Lumine, and this is her twin brother Aether,” Childe introduced. “Say, ‘hi.’”

“Hi, Lumine and Aether,” the children sang in unison.

The little girl, Tonia, smiled at Lumine. “You look like a princess!”

The smaller boy—Teucer—stepped forward, loudly whispering, “Are you brother’s girlfriend?”

The other boy, Anthon, grimaced. “Ew! Girlfriend?!”

“We are your brother’s friends,” Aether interjected, while Lumine tried not to choke on the air.

“Okay, good job greeting them!” Childe said just as quickly. He started ushering them up the stairs. “Go on and play; we have to work!”

The children disappeared in their burst of giggles yet again.

“You look after them all yourself?” Aether asked.

Childe nodded, his eyes still looking up the stairs. “Whenever my parents are away on business. Which is frequently.”

“You can’t just...hire a nanny?” Aether said, glancing around at their luxurious surroundings.

“That would be the easy way,” Childe answered. “I care about them too much to let someone else look after them.” His blue eyes flickered to Aether. “You get that, don’t you?”

Aether didn’t answer, and Lumine glanced between the two nervously.

“I know I’ll have to let them go when they get older,” Childe continued. “But they’re good kids. They’ll make the right choices.”

Aether silently regarded Childe, and Lumine could tell he was thinking about something, deeply.

“Ah, well, let’s get to studying...shall we?” Lumine suggested, trying to break the tension.

“Pres, do you think of anything else besides studying?” Childe teased.

“Psh, of course.” Lumine narrowed her eyes at the troublemaker. “I think that you need to think of studying more. I’ve seen your grades.”

The ginger smirked. “Hmm, stalking me, are we?” He started walking down one of the lengthy hallways. “Since you care so much about me and my grades, I guess I’ll study for you.”

Lumine stomped after him. “I-It’s my job to care about the wellbeing of my students as the President!” She turned to her twin. “Right, Aether?”

Aether was still silently looking at Childe. Childe stopped walking as well, turning and meeting Aether’s stare.

Aether then made his way to Childe, putting the stack of books into his arms, never breaking their eye contact. “I actually have other things I have to take care of today.” He stepped back. “I’m sure you two are more than capable of studying without me.”

Childe accepted the books into his arms. “Of course. I think your sister is very capable on her own.”

“She is,” Aether echoed.

Lumine furrowed her brows. What were they talking about?

Aether made his way back towards the front door. “Well...I’ll see you later at home, Lumi.” He smiled—it was genuine, happy, but with just an edge of sadness to it. “Good luck. Have fun, sis.”

After her brother walked out the door, Lumine turned to Childe. “Uhm, sorry about that. I don’t know why Aether was acting so weird.”

“How weird indeed,” Childe repeated, though he gave her a knowing smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s with that smile?”

“Nothing. Can’t I just be happy that my President cares about me so much that she’d give up her weekend to help me study?”

Lumine turned her nose up. “I told you: it’s my job.”

“Oh? So you do this for every student who misses school?”

“Maybe I should just follow Aether home.”

“I’m just teasing, Pres.” He leaned in a tiny bit. “Thank you for coming here today.”

“You’re welcome,” she responded softly.

Over the next few hours, the two poured over their textbooks and classwork, Lumine essentially tutoring Childe, and keeping him on track (which was very hard considering all he wanted to do was work on Lumine’s training instead). It was also very endearing to watch as he juggled studying with looking after his siblings, and Lumine found herself indeed having fun as Aether had wished earlier.

When she returned home that night, Aether was studying at his desk, and she tried to quietly slip past his room as to not disturb him.

“Lumi? Is that you?” he called.

Lumine popped her head into his room. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” He paused, then looked Lumine in the eye. “You were right. Childe...He isn’t a bad guy.” A small smile. “I’m...I’m glad you met him.”

Lumine blinked, confused for a moment. Then, she smiled back.

“I’m glad I met him too.”

* * *

[part 8]

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #chilumi #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

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Everything I Wanted (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,700 + Warning: Adult language, adult situations Premise: After all this time, her social media posts have a way of captivating him...until he turns the tables on her. Part 3 of Lovely and Ocean Eyes.

________________ Ethan walked down the corridor on a seemingly normal workday, far too aware that his steps were lighter and the smile he fought so hard to conceal made its appearance more often than not. For the sake of his reputation, he schooled his features into his usual unwelcoming and severe expression, though part of him worried that he was fooling exactly no one.

Perhaps his face betrayed the way his pulse picked up pleasantly at the memory of the shy smile she offered him every time they crossed paths. The simple gesture was enough to brighten his mood, no matter how stressful his day. Somewhere down the line, Ethan had surrendered to the effortless way Dr. Lilac Allende drove him to distraction.

His good mood quickly soured, however, when he walked past the locker room on the third floor. Typically, he studiously blocked out all the mindless conversations that drifted out into the hall, but a particular name caught his ear.

“Damn,” a tall, burly intern was saying as he glanced at his phone. “I knew Dr. Allende was hot but.. just wow.”

His friend closed the locker door and walked over to glance at the screen, nodding in approval. “What's her deal? She single?”

The first intern scoffed, almost derisively. “Thinking of asking her out, Reyes?”

Reyes looked unabashed, maintaining an easy grin that was almost arrogant. It made Ethan want to punch it right off his face. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

“Is she still with Lahela? They were a thing a while back, I think?”

Ethan had the mad urge to step in and correct the false statement, but he abstained. The two morons before him had no right to Lilac's personal life.

Reyes stared at the phone screen again and gave a low whistle. “Her Pictagram is a work of art. The things I'd do–”

“The things you're going to do, Dr. Reyes, are your actual job duties,” Ethan said through girt teeth, stepping into the room.

Perhaps it was his sudden appearance or the downright murderous glare the older doctor was sending their way, but the pair of interns fumbled, the first one almost dropping the phone. By the time they straightened up to face Ethan, they looked far too rigid, uncomfortable, and downright terrified. The verbal lashing he unleashed on them was one for the books. In the end, there was no trace of arrogant smirks as both interns walked away, pale and with the extra workload Ethan assigned.

Finally alone, he exhaled a sharp, steadying breath. At least there were a few guarantees in life, even if things had changed: he could still reduce grown men to tears and these damn interns were going to drive him to an early grave.

Considerably calmer, Ethan produced his phone from his pocket and opened the too familiar Pictagram page. One glance at her latest picture and the two idiots' reactions made sense, even if they were still not justified.

Fucking hell.

Just like his moronic predecessors, Ethan almost dropped his phone, stifling a cough. Any trace of gentlemanly thoughts vanished as his eyes took in her bare shoulder, exposed so intentionally and coyly. All he could think about was running his lips along the curve of it, his fingers slowly tugging the black robe lower until it pooled on his floor.

Before his primal mind could add his teeth and the moans she'd reward him with to this fantasy, his eyes fell on the caption.

Stay?

Ethan could hardly fight back the grin the single word inspired. The previous morning, as she had stopped by his office to use his coffee machine, he pointed out how useless Pictagram was. Lilac was quick to remind him that he seemed to be enjoying it, referencing the reaction he'd had to her previous posts. Determined to save face, Ethan had blurted that he might even delete his account.

A smug smile over her shoulder had been her reply along with a sultry promise. “I bet I can make you change your mind.”

She had accomplished just that along with taking root in his every thought. The need to see her became so acute, that he sought her out in every hallway he turned into. Finally, he found her in one of the break rooms, laughing and chatting with her intern, Dr. Ortega.

“This coffee machine is the worst,” he heard Ortega complain. She rattled the cup as though the action would force it to hurry. “I can't believe I'm going to be late because of shit coffee.”

Lilac laughed. “Shit coffee is better than no coffee.”

“Spoken like someone who has a mysterious coffee source.”

With another laugh, Lilac mimed zipping her lips shut. Dr. Ortega snorted with laughter, which was a rare enough sight.

“At least rounds are not with Dr. Ramsey this morning,” Ortega continued as she sniffed disapprovingly at her cup. “I'd be dead meat for being even two minutes behind.”

“And that's considering the guy's mellowed out in the past few months,” a nurse chimed in from his place at the loveseat. “He was far grumpier before. Something or someone is putting that man in a good mood every night.”

Ethan felt his neck flare up, his eyes solely on Lilac, looking as lovely as ever and utterly unfazed.

“That poor soul,” Lilac commented so convincingly, Ethan almost believed it. “Whoever that is.”

The nurse had no reaction, invested in his newspaper as he was and Ortega threw a hesitant smile at Lilac.

“I always kind of thought you two had a thing,” she confessed.

Lilac did not even react, taking a sip of her to-go cup. “Because I'm his so-called favorite?” When Esme nodded, Lilac shrugged. “Being on his radar comes with its cons.”

At this, Ortega nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he's harder on you, for sure.”

That was his cue. With absolutely no preamble, he marched into the breakroom, startling the three occupants with his mere presence.

“Allende, if you are done with your morning gossip session, I'd appreciate you getting me those labs I asked for.”

Lilac pushed herself off the counter at once. “Yes, doctor.”

They stared at one another, neither betraying a single emotion.

“Now. It's not like lives depend on it or anything.”

Ortega shot Lilac a sympathetic look, no doubt reconsidering her previous thoughts of their involvement. Without another word, Lilac followed Ethan out of the break room. Once they were alone in a deserted hallway, Lilac raised a brow at him.

“You didn't ask for any labs,” she said at the same time Ethan blurted out, “'That poor soul'?”

Lilac laughed and he joined her with a chuckle soon after, their bodies comfortably gravitating closer to each other. His hands throbbed with the raw, poignant need to touch her and the blinding disappointment of being unable to. The way Ethan longingly looked at her then, drinking in every one of her beautiful features, he imagined he looked like some yearning nineteenth century gentleman straight out of an Austen novel.

“Mine was more believable,” she pointed out, that witty, playful challenge in her eyes. An Elizabeth Bennet to his hopeless and bewitched Darcy.

“Not remotely,” he returned without missing a beat. “No one would deem the person having sex with me every night as 'poor.'”

“They would when said person could barely walk the next day.”

That made Ethan pause, the bravado slipping as his eyes fell on her rosy lips. His breath caught audibly at his throat.

They were standing so close together now, eyes locked on each other with palpable magnetism. If anyone walked by they would be found out without a doubt. Even more so if Ethan gave into the burning urge to kiss her right there and then.

Lilac gave him a coquettish smirk. “Did you like my post?”

Ethan found his voice again. “It was…”

There was no appropriate word to describe the delicious, sinful perfection of it.

“Nice?” she teased.

“Dr. Reyes and his idiot friend definitely thought so.”

Lilac snorted. “That explains the DM that sits unopened in my inbox. Jealous?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Good. They're not the ones who have me in their bed every night.”

Ethan almost stuttered like an imbecile. He fought back all indecent thoughts and returned, “You forget I have you against multiple different surfaces, Rookie.”

She paused briefly, eyes dark as they traveled down his body and back to his eyes again.

Fuck, she had him. He knew the look too well.

“Or against no surface at all, as you proved on your birthday.”

Ethan cursed.

Everything in her expression suggested that she fancied herself the victor of their Pictagram debate. Matching her smug smirk with a dashing smile of his own, he decided then to give her a taste of her own medicine.

________________________

Ethan, ever the prophet, had predicted the board meeting they were both required to attend would be pointless.

He had been right, of course. They both sat in the boardroom forty minutes into it, listening to Dr. Cyrus drone on endlessly about something that had little to do with patient care. Listening was a generous term because Lilac remained focused on her laptop, diligently updating patient files. Ethan, sitting across from her, was doing much of the same, the glare of his screen reflecting on his glasses.

Soon, the buzzing of her phone on the table pulled her away from her concentration. Her heart leaped when she saw it was a notification alerting to his latest Pictagram post. Confused, Lilac glanced up at him but he was too invested in his work to notice.

After ensuring no one was paying her any mind, she opened the app and regretted it at once.

One quick glance at artfully sculpted muscles and Lilac was reduced to a coughing mess. Dr. Cyrus stopped mid sentence to glare at her. Everyone else in the room followed suit to stare.

“Dr. Allende, are you alright?” Naveen asked with concern.

Ethan wordlessly handed her a bottle of water, his lips quirking ever so slightly, his fingers brushing hers. After a quick sip, she mumbled, “I'm fine. Sorry.”

Convinced, they resumed the meeting.

Lilac, meanwhile, attempted to catch Ethan's eye to throw him a glare, but he remained laser focused on his screen. Having no other alternative, she returned her attention to the picture. Soon, she was texting him.

Your one follower approves.

Her phone dinged almost immediately after with his reply. Her pulse spiked with excitement, which was ridiculous because she slept with the man every day.

I am aware. We all saw.

Cheeky bastard.

That was a low blow, Ramsey. And with a picture I took too.

He almost smiled when he read that.

Pay attention, Rookie.

She bit her lip, glancing up at him. Ethan was the perfect picture of professionalism, his stoic expression betraying nothing as he worked. Her eyes returned to the picture, her cheeks flushing.

Oh, I am.

To the meeting.

Oh. Dr. Cyrus has my undivided but unwilling attention.

Liar, he returned at once. For a man who claimed to hate texting, he was a master at sending them without anyone's notice.

I can tell because you actually look interested in what you're doing.

Lilac almost laughed out loud at that. She quickly turned her head away from the front of the table to avoid suspicion.

I am studiously taking notes.

Unless you're jotting down all of Cyrus's brown-nosing remarks to Naveen, I highly doubt that.

This time, a small squeak of laughter escaped her. Luckily for her, she was able to mask it perfectly with a dainty cough. No one at the table gave her a second glance, except for Ethan. Handsome as ever, his mouth quirked ever so slightly.

I don't need to take notes on that, she replied. I already know how to get on my boss's good side.

She watched as Ethan imperceptibly read her text, having no visible reaction.

Time to go in for the kill.

And the best side to get on is under him.

This time, it was Ethan who sputtered slightly and coughed. A furious blush started to color his neck and ears in a way that was entirely too satisfying. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't finished yet.

Although he actually enjoys me on top of him too.

Those piercing blue eyes found hers instantly, so dark and smoldering that she was struck motionless for a second. A familiar, molten heat pooled in her belly as Ethan's lustful gaze remained on her, unwavering. The longer they stared at each other, magnetized, the more evident it became that he would take her right there and then if it weren't for the company surrounding them.

When the meeting was adjourned for a break twenty minutes later, Lilac was assured that her texts had the intended effect. The tall, hard body of her boyfriend pressed hers flush against the door of his office the second it closed. A second after that, his full lips hungrily kissed her neck, his powerful hands gripping handfuls of her hips.

“You're determined to kill me,” he muttered darkly against her skin.

“But what a way to go,” she said in a whisper that gave way to a moan at the last word.

He agreed in the form of a husky groan that resonated deliciously against her throat. With almost lazy effort, he turned her body to face the door, strong hands guiding her backside to press urgently against him.

“The way you tease me, Lilac,” he whispered hotly in her ear, sending a powerful shiver through her. His hips began guiding her toward the nearest table with ease, his fingers slowly skimming their way up her thighs and under her skirt.

“You like it,” she challenged breathlessly.

Ethan hummed against her shoulder, pulling her blouse down in a perfect rendition of her post.

“It's torture.” Another searing kiss. “Seeing the way you look at me and not being able to take you against the nearest wall.”

Lilac had a witty response ready, but at that exact moment, his thumbs hooked around the lacy fabric of her underwear.

“Are these for me?” His voice was nothing more than gravel. Lilac's legs quivered, every sense proudly dominated by him.

“Yes,” she moaned, eyes fluttering closed in a heady rush. He had her bent over the table, her skirt bunching to indecent heights around her thighs.

Without another word, he removed the garment skillfully, sliding it slowly down her legs and bunching it in his fist. Lilac pressed herself further against him, aching painfully for him.

“Use them to tie me up,” she suggested in a ragged whisper.

Ethan cursed.

His hips jerked against hers, sliding the thick, hard column of his body against her. Lilac was so overcome with maddening need that her arms almost gave out from balancing her on the table.

She never found out if Ethan was delirious enough to take her whispered advice because both of their pagers went off with infuriating insistence.

“The meeting from hell that never ends,” he groaned. “Break is over.”

Lilac straightened against his chest, smirking when he made no movement to let her go. “To be continued?”

Ethan leaned in to kiss her neck. “Your bed or mine?”

Lilac swiveled in his hold, facing him with a smile that made her cheeks hurt. “Doesn't matter as long as it's you next to me.”

He matched her smile with an unfairly charming one of his own.

Though they were needed at the Board meeting, they stole another minute together in each other's arms. Lilac studied his handsome face briefly, feeling her heart restart as it often did when she realized he was finally hers. Perhaps he was hers in secret for the time being but he was hers nonetheless. The thought that after all the strife and hardship, she still found herself where she belonged, in his arms, made her smile grow wider.

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I love you,” she told him, not for the first time.

It was his turn to give her a smile so incandescent that it stole her breath. “That's a relief,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Given that I am madly and desperately in love with you, Rookie.”

_____________

Author’s Note: Are we okay after those two new OH chapters?

I’m not! I have some ideas for future fics but we’ll see if the writing gods are in my favor.

Thank you for reading this senselessness. I love you for it.

-Bree

_______________

Please let me know if I need to add/remove you. You might have asked me already but I can barely keep track of my life atm. Sorry!

@lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite | @angela8756

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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adamruz · 3 years

Note

Prompt “I’m lost without you.” please!

Warning: this made me tear up while writing.

Tagging: @officer-adamruzek

12 hours ago, Kim was found alive. Bleeding, but alive and Adam hadn't seen her yet. He was fulfilling his new role as Makayla's guardian, but wanted more than anything to see Kim, to make sure she knew he was there like he'd always been in the past. Adam appreciated Kevin staying on the phone with him for most of the night keeping him updated, especially after all the shit he said to his best friend the day before, but it wasn't the same as actually being there.

Adam drove Makayla to school and wanted to keep things as normal as possible in her routine until he found out more about Kim's condition. On the way to the hospital, his hands were shaking and sweating, barely able to grip the wheel, as his mind flashed back to the last time Kim was in the hospital. She had a miscarriage and had lost their little rice grain baby. He was hoping he wasn't going to lose anyone in this hospital ever again. Adam parked his car and took the elevator up to floor 3 where the ICU was and found Trudy sitting next to Kim's bed. Trudy flashed a slight smile. "Hey. I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I had to get Makayla ready this morning and drive her to school. But I'm here now. Has she woken up yet?" Adam whispered.

"No, not yet, but the doctors said the surgery went well and she should be waking up any minute. I'm going to go eat something in the cafeteria, so I'll leave you two alone," Trudy said as she got up from the uncomfortable chair she'd been occupying for hours.

"Thanks, Sarge," Adam said as Trudy wrapped him in a hug. He didn't realize how much he needed one until that moment. Adam quietly grabbed the empty chair, pulled it closer to the side of the bed and sat down. He looked around the room for a bit and at all the different machines Kim was hooked up to. He couldn't believe she was in this situation again. He softly grabbed her right hand that was closest to him.

"I'm here, Kim. I wish I could've been here sooner, but I was taking care of Makayla like you asked. And I know you know this, but that little girl is something special. When I look at her, I'm reminded of all the good that there still is in the world. With all the shit we see on the job daily and what I went through with my dad this year, it's hard to remember. I see the same when I look at you. Ok maybe I shouldn't be saying that when you're in a hospital bed, but I do. The way you took Makayla in, to give her a new life, a second mom, that's incredible. I should've told you that sooner.

Kim, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry that I've let you down so many times. I'm sorry that it's you lying in this bed again and not me. I'm sorry that I wasn't on the scene sooner Wednesday night and the day in the motel when you lost our baby. I'm sorry that I pushed you away in the last month and I closed the door in your face. I was hurting because of my dad and I never should've put that on you.

I'm sorry about dating Hailey. It was never real and I knew it wouldn't last; it was just a fun thing to take my mind off of you. I at least should've told you before you overheard us downstairs.

And I'm sorry that I made you think I didn't want to marry you because I did...I still do. I've grown up a lot since that engagement and I'm ready to prove to you everyday that I'm the man that you and Makayla deserve...if you'll let me."

Maybe he was getting carried away, but he didn't care. After all, Kim was asleep and couldn't hear him.

"I can't bear to be without you again, to let you walk away from me again. I'm lost without you. Just ask everyone in the unit." Adam turned to his right as he heard footsteps and a nurse poked her head in. He reached up to wipe the tears he hadn't realized had been falling since he sat down. "Hi, I'm Ashley and here to take Kim's vitals. You are? Her partner?" "Adam. Uhh yeah, I guess you could say that," he said clearing his throat and not wanting to give the nurse their entire backstory.

In 9 days, Kim was discharged from the hospital. Adam convinced her to let him stay on the couch at her apartment, so he could help take care of her and Makayla for the immediate future. After Adam had finished moving in all of his most important belongings, he propped himself down on the couch next to Kim and Makayla who were snuggling and busy watching The Little Mermaid on TV. It wasn't long before Makayla fell asleep.

Kim turned to face Adam and motioned for him to move closer since she couldn't because of her sleeping daughter. "I want to thank you. Makayla told me everything you two did together while I was missing and in the hospital, and I just want to say thank you. I knew I made the right decision picking you and you did not let me down."

"You're welcome. I knew she needed someone and she was so easy to look after."

Kim turned to him and whispered, "I'm lost without you too" with a sly grin on her face and placed her hand on Adam's thigh. Adam was completely caught off guard thinking it had something to do with the movie at first and then remembered what he said to Kim in the hospital before she woke up from surgery. "You heard me?" he asked softly with a big smile. "All of it," Kim said before leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Adam closed his eyes with the biggest smile on his face in weeks, his arm wrapped around Kim's shoulder, knowing that the two most important women in his life were safe and they were all together. And maybe, just maybe the two of them would finally make it work.

#adam ruzek #kim burgess #chicago pd #burzek #makayla ward burgess #my fanfic #burzek fic #cpd fic #one chicago fic #fic request #lexi.writes

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anogete · 3 years

Text

Watch me vomit up my thoughts

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I’ve disappeared on everyone. It’s been... a year. I think that probably goes for everyone, not just me. If you’re interested in a personal life update, then read on. If you’re looking for an update on my writing then I regret to inform you that I haven’t written a single thing this year. Maybe next year, though. There is always next year, right? I think I saw a blurb that we’re getting Sam and Bucky back in March. And Loki shortly after. Maybe that will be my inspiration.

I’m fortunate enough to have a job that lets me comfortably work from home. I’m also fortunate enough to own a home. And my last blessing is that I don’t have kids, so I didn’t have to figure out the nightmare of childcare and home schooling like some of you. My library on the second floor of the house has been my office since mid-March. I’ve been transitioning into the Associate Financial Advisor roll this year and that has been going well. I’m supporting the clients I’ve worked with as an assistant for the past nine years, so it’s been easy-going. I’m able to order my groceries for pick up to avoid going in the stores and I live in an neighborhood where it is easy to get delivery from restaurants. I’m incredibly lucky to have all these things going for me and I am thankful every damn day.

I fell into a bit of a funk this spring and early summer, but managed to pull myself out of it in August. I started planning my meals, walking 2-5 miles every day, and exercising on the Peloton bike I bought a year ago. I also started reading again and zipped through almost 50 books between June and now. By November, I was feeling strong and healthy. I felt like I had found a balance between work and activity and self-care. I was still coming to terms with my grandma passing in March of last year and with Ferguson (my sweet doggo) passing in September of last year. But I was trying and things were getting better. I felt like I had my feet underneath me.

Lemme stop you here if you don’t want to read about death and some general medical stuff. Because that’s mostly what you’re getting from here on out.

On November 21st, my mom texted me at 5:30am. I got it right away because I usually wake up around that time, alarm or not. She said she had dropped my dad off at the hospital because he was having difficulty breathing. Apparently, he’d been feeling bad for a week, but insisted to everyone that it was just his sinuses draining. I called her and began questioning her like I was cross-examining a star witness. I was able to piece together a really fucking shitty story.

My dad always went to a friend’s house on Friday evenings to have a couple beers and hang out. We’d all warned him since March that he needed to stop, but he insisted it was fine. He bought into a lot of the cavalier attitude that the Trump fans have over this virus. Plus, he was 64-years-old and didn’t take any medication so he probably thought it was no big deal. He spent a few hours at his friend’s house on November 6th. Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, he received a call from that friend on November 11th that the friend and the friend’s wife had tested positive for COVID. He didn’t share this info with my mother, my brothers, or my uncle, all of whom had been near him. By November 15th, he was coughing but insisted it was drainage when my mom suggested he take something for it and go to the doctor. By November 18th, he was worse and admitted to my mom that his friend had tested positive but that he hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks so his problems were just sinus-related and not COVID. My mom hates confrontation, so she accepted this and didn’t tell anyone, including me and my brothers. By November 19th, he had a fever and was having trouble breathing along with a persistent cough. He finally agreed to take some cold medicine, but refused to call his doctor’s office despite my mom asking him many, many times. At 4:30am on November 21st, he woke my mom and asked her to take him to the hospital because he couldn’t breathe well. She dropped him off and returned home to text me since they wouldn’t allow her in the building. She also texted my brothers, who admitted that they felt like they’d had a cold for several days. I live 4 hours away and haven’t traveled since March, so I hadn’t seen any of them.

A nurse called my mom a couple hours after she dropped my dad off to tell her that he was positive for COVID and pneumonia and they were admitting him to put him on a bipap. From what I understand, that’s the oxygen mask that pushes air into your lungs. Later that day, the health department called my mom and told her to quarantine for two weeks. My mom cooperated and gave them my brothers’ phone number (they live together), my uncle’s phone number, and the name and number of the person we suspected my dad was infected by (his friend). My brothers opted to get tested and were positive. They quarantined for two weeks and had mild to moderate symptoms (brief fever, very tired, cough, drainage). My mom had virtually no symptoms with the exception of some drainage that she took Mucinex for. She didn’t get tested, but she lived and slept in the same bed with my dad for a week while he was symptomatic. If my brothers got it from 30 minutes in the same room as him, surely she got it as well. My uncle and his son got tested, but they were negative.

My dad was cooperative with the doctor and nurses at first, but as the first day wore on he became irritated. He’d been without his chewing tobacco (yes, I know: eww) for several hours and was going through nicotine withdrawal, but wouldn’t admit that to the nurses or doctor. The next day he was put in ICU, still on the bipap, and even more unruly and rude to the staff taking care of him. They called my mom to ask her to talk to him and convince him to cooperate. They said if he couldn’t recover on the bipap and required a ventilator then “things would be very bad.” My mom tried to talk to him by text and he just continued to insist that he was well enough to come home.

I used to be close to my dad when I was a kid, but we’d grown apart over my adulthood. Over the past 20 years, my dad morphed into someone different. Everyone around him, especially my grandmother, told me they saw this happen the same as I did. The result was that my dad became someone I didn’t like and didn’t want to spend time with. He also didn’t seem to know how to talk to me anymore. To be fair, I didn’t give him much help in that regard. I texted him to see how he was doing and the conversation quickly devolved into him complaining about the care and insisting he was well enough to come home. I tried to reason with him and appeal to his love for my mom by saying that my fear was him coming home and giving her the virus. He told me that he’d decided he was no longer contagious and this was just a bunch of bullshit. This conversation via text continued through Monday and Tuesday (November 23rd and 24th), but it took a turn for the delusional. The doctor can only assume that the virus and the lack of oxygen had resulted in hallucinations and delusions. My dad told my mother and I that he was in an office building owned by a man named Mr. Pritt. He said he was the only patient and that this man was having his workers experiment on him and that they would eventually kill him. He demanded that we come get him immediately so he could recover at home. When we told him he’d die if he came home because he was too sick, he insisted he wasn’t sick at all and became very angry with us. He accused both my mom and I of conspiring to kill him because we wouldn’t help him. One day he told me that I’d confirmed what he’d known all along. I asked him what that was and he said, “That I always loved you more than you loved me.” This really hurt because even though I knew he was loopy, I also knew that he’d probably actually had that though before.

He began refusing treatment on those days and wouldn’t accept the steroids they were trying to give him and raised hell when they tried to take him for a chest x-ray. He also told them he didn’t want to be placed on a ventilator even though he had agreed to one when he was admitted. He was texting all of his friends and telling them he needed a ride home. He attempted to get up and leave the hospital twice, falling in the floor both times because he was so weak from lack of oxygen once he took the mask off. He also told my mom and I that he was secretly removing the mask when the nurses couldn’t see to prove to them that he wasn’t sick. He was taking and sending blurry pictures to us of the room as “evidence.” He told my mom to forward the pictures to “the feds.” The pictures were of his hospital bed, the whiteboard with his nurses’ and doctor’s names on it, his IVs, etc. By the morning of Wednesday, the 25th, I was getting some off-the-wall texts from him. He was begging us to come check him out of the hospital at that point and we were trying to play along and tell him we were getting everything in order for him to come home soon. Eventually, he told me that he wasn’t getting out of there alive and that he loved me. I told him I loved him too and begged him to do whatever the doctor said because the doctor wanted to help him get better.

A few minutes later, the nurse called my mom and asked if she’d been on the phone with my dad. My mom said she and I hadn’t spoken to him by any way other than text since he arrived at the hospital. The nurse said he had been on the phone with a woman, trying to convince her to come get him. The nurse made him put the call on speaker so she could tell the woman that he wasn’t well enough to leave. Because she was concerned that her message didn’t get through before my dad hung up, she called my mom to make sure he hadn’t convinced my mom to check him out against medical advice. My mom assured her that we had no intention of breaking him out of the hospital, but she didn’t know who the woman was. It wasn’t her or me. We called a long-time former co-worker of my dad’s that I’ve known since I was a kid and she said she hadn’t talked to him. We called his best friend and asked if he’d called and spoken to the man’s wife. Not her either. More on this later. I’m sure you know where it’s going.

We were stumped, but didn’t have time to deal with it because the nurse practitioner called and told my mom that my dad was delusional and could no longer make his own decisions. They said he had no chance of survival if they didn’t put him on a ventilator immediately. My mom called me. I told her to agree to it. The nurse called her back and gave the phone to my dad. He had agreed to the ventilator as well and wanted to tell my mom that he loved her and me and my brothers and his dog. His speech was slurred and muffled from the bipap mask, but she at least heard that. They intubated him right after the call. He was on a paralytic for a week. When they backed off on the paralytic, they had to increase his oxygen. A week later, the nurse tried to kindly tell us that he wasn’t getting better and his chances of survival were low. She suggested we start to talk about turning off the ventilator and letting him go. We did talk about that, which was very upsetting for everyone, but the doctor said he’d been on the ventilator for two weeks and we’d give him one more week to see what happens. By this point, he no longer had pneumonia. But the damage COVID did to his lungs couldn’t be repaired.

The ventilator was on full blast (highest pressure, highest oxygen) just to keep him somewhat stable. The days were ticking by and he still wasn’t making progress. Any step forward was followed by a bigger step back. My mom would call and get the update from the nurse most days, but I did call myself a few days. When I’d call and talk to the nurse, I’d get a grim picture that my mom didn’t seem to get or understand. I talked to her on December 12th and asked her if she was trying to protect my brothers and I or if she really thought he was going to get better. She admitted that she’d had a feeling for days that he wasn’t going to get better. We decided to just wait for the doctor to call. The nurse called my mom on Monday, December 14th and told her that my dad’s blood pressure was all over the place and they were struggling to keep him stable, that the ventilator was turned up to the highest settings and it was barely enough to keep him going. My mom texted me and told me she asked them to call me. The doctor called me within about 20 minutes and basically told me that my dad wasn’t going to make it. They’d had him on a ventilator for 19 days and within a couple days his throat tissue would likely become necrotic from the pressure of the cuff keeping the tube in place. They could only continue the ventilator if they could put in a trach and he wasn’t stable enough for that. In addition, he needed more support than the ventilator could provide. I was told he was either going to go into cardiac arrest while on the ventilator and die or they’d be forced to take him off the ventilator because of the damage to his throat. The most damning thing he told me was that he’d removed the sedation but my dad didn’t wake. He wasn’t responsive, wouldn’t squeeze their hands, wouldn’t flinch when they tested his reflexes, nothing.

I was told we could come sit with him and say goodbye when the ventilator was removed. I asked when and the doctor said soon. I live 4 hours from my parents, so I told him I’d leave right away and have my mom call to make arrangements for me to come to the hospital. I called my mom and told her all this and asked her to let the hospital know. I packed a bag and rushed out the door. On my way out of town, the doctor called me back and asked if I was on my way. My mom had told them that we’d come by the next morning and he was worried my dad wouldn’t make it through the night. So, I had to have a shitty conversation with my mom about how we couldn’t schedule my dad’s death for 7am on Tuesday, that it needed to happen at 8pm on Monday. I do not recommend these types of calls.

I got into town around 7pm and picked my mom up because she’d decided she wanted to come with me. My brothers said they couldn’t handle it and decided to stay at my mom’s house. My mom and I were taken to the COVID floor, given gowns, and gloves, told he was COVID positive so we’d need to continue to wear our cloth masks (no medical mask, is that safe?!), and escorted to his room in the ICU. Guys, he looked so fucking tired and so sad. It was heartbreaking. The nurse said their ICU was full and most of the patients were in the same shape as my dad. We talked to him for a few minutes, held his hand and all that shit. He didn’t respond in any way, so I don’t know if he was even there. We stepped out of the room while they removed the tube and gave him some medicine. When we went back in, his breaths were labored and it looked like he was gasping for air. My mom almost lost it because she wasn’t expecting that. I told her she could go wait in the hall and I’d stay with him until he passed. The nurse was kind enough to give him a little more medicine to make it less dramatic, but it was still difficult watching him breathe in that way. My mom sat so she couldn’t see his head to make things easier on herself. We sat there with him for about 40 minutes before he passed away at 8:32pm on Monday, the 14th.

I stayed with my mom last week and helped her arrange a private graveside service and the burial. She wanted to do a funeral and I thought that was the worst idea, so we agreed on doing a celebration of life next year when things are a little better (hopefully). To my knowledge, I haven’t had the virus. I operated under the assumption that my mom and brothers had it and were immune for now and wouldn’t transmit it. So, I was able to be with them without mask, but I did wear a mask when anyone else was around. I can’t say the same for the fucking funeral director and the locksmith’s employee who opened my dad’s safe for us, though. I live in a bigger city and mask wearing is pretty wide-spread here, but I saw so many people in my hometown (a more rural area) who didn’t bother with them.

Anyway, while all these graveside preparations are going on my mom goes through the bag of personal items from my dad that the hospital gave us. She tossed his clothes in the washer and placed his two rings into a bag to give to the funeral home so he could be buried in them. She also pulled out his wallet and his cell phone. His wallet has a picture that was obviously cut from an old driver’s license of a woman named Deb. Apparently, this woman lives in Florida and had attended junior high school with my dad. About two years ago, my parents took a trip to Florida and visited with her for several days. She even friended my mom on Facebook. So, the old driver’s license picture of her was very weird. What was even more disturbing? His wallet also contained a plastic bag of hair that very obviously is not my mom’s. And there was a piece of paper with three phone numbers on it. His phone was locked with a PIN and was set to wipe itself after 20 incorrect tries. I did tried to break into it, but wasn’t successful. My mom admitted that she suspected he’d been talking to someone on his phone for years, but she never directly confronted him about it. She’d just make comments about him always texting on his phone and being secretive. Two Christmases ago he bought her a ring at a store that she has an online login to. This particular store posts the receipts for all purchases linked to the customer’s account to the website. She saw that my dad had purchased two pieces of jewelry even though she only received one. My dad has never in his life bought me a Christmas present without my mom assisting, so she knew it wasn’t for me. She still didn’t confront him, though. She just told him that she could see the itemized receipts online.

I sympathized with my mom because I’ve experienced the infidelity of a partner in a relationship and if I were her then I’d want to know. But I also told her that I don’t know digging into it will make things any better and may not even give her the truth. He’s gone and there is nothing that can be done about that or anything else. While I was running errands for her the day before the graveside service, she messaged Deb in Florida and asked if she wanted her picture back. She also called the three phone numbers in his wallet. One went to Deb. The other two were the cell phone and work phone of my dad’s best friend’s wife, Anne. The same friend and wife who likely gave the virus to my dad. My mom told me when I got back that she’d done this and admitted she’d always felt like my dad was talking to Anne and might have an inappropriate relationship with her. I suspect my mom is right. Gut instinct is usually accurate. She said she didn’t think anything physical was going on with Deb, but she did think my dad was carrying on a flirtatious relationship with her via text. In both cases, he tried to hide it. And if you hide it, then you know it’s wrong. That night Deb messaged my mom back and said she had heard about what happened to my dad and was very sorry. She said that my dad was always clear that he was married and nothing went on that was inappropriate, but that he gave her someone to talk to when her husband was sick and dying five years earlier and they’d always kept in contact. Again, I don’t think my mom can count on anyone to give her the full story without spin or deceit. A couple days ago, she texted me a picture of a receipt from my dad’s truck. It was from last Christmas from a department store. It had two pieces of jewelry on it. She looked them both up using the UPCs listed and found the necklace he gave her last year and a ring she doesn’t recognize. We don’t know if he was giving this jewelry to Deb in Florida or Anne, his friend’s wife. Or someone else we don’t even know about. And we’re probably never going to know. Do I want to call Deb and Anne and tell them I want to full story? Fuck yeah. Do I think it will fix anything? Fuck no.

TL;DR? I finally found some balance in my life late this summer. This balance was destroyed when my dad got COVID and died after three weeks in the hospital. And when you’ve already got a not-so-great relationship with your dad, you get all kinds of feels when he dies in a traumatic way and then you find out he’s been screwing around on your mom. I also have lots of anger toward him for knowingly exposing my other family members to the virus simply because he didn’t want to own up to getting it after doing something we’d all told him to stop doing.

Health-wise? I think I’m okay. It’s been almost ten days since I was with him in the hospital and seven days since his graveside service. I haven’t had any symptoms yet and I think most people show symptoms by now. Regardless, I’ve been at home since I returned last Thursday evening and I intend to stay home until January 2nd. My boyfriend is also home and will be here until January 2nd as well. Just to be safe. My brothers are mostly recovered, but both still have a bit of a cough. My mom never had much in the way of symptoms and seems fine. My dad was 64 and overweight. We found out once he was admitted to the hospital that his regular doctor had told him he was a diabetic and my dad insisted on “treating” that with cinnamon instead of actual medicine. Other than those things, he didn’t have any health concerns. Be careful, ya’ll.

#Anogete in real life #personal #covid_19 #fuck covid #family #death

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fmdrorinarchive · 3 years

Text

━━━━━━ 𝖆 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘… 💋 〈 Below the cut is an intro for Michelle Chae of Chroma // Please 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 to plot, and thanks for reading !! 〉

𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓.

Hi again, friends !! This is Boone ( 19+ / MDT / HE & HIM ) and you may recognize me as the typist behind Vive’s maknae, Yoo Rioh. I’ve decided to bring in another muse! Like Rioh, Michelle’s just starting out in her career and I can’t wait to see her grow. ♡ To find out more, please read onwards !! I can’t wait until she gets to meet all of your muses !! Oh, here are a few trigger warnings to look out for if you continue to read: mentions of drug addiction and parental abandonment; mentions of slut-shaming and misogyny.

𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘.

MICHELLE RORIN CHAE, b. 19990620

BORN & RAISED IN VALLEY GLEN, CA

FORMER COMPETITIVE FIGURE SKATER

BC ENT / CHROMA & CHROMA EMBER

SUB VOCALIST, SUB RAPPER, VISUAL

𝖋𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔.

RESEMBLES KIM MINJEONG ( WINTER ) OF ÆSPA

SHE STANDS AT A MODERATE 163 CM ( 5 FT, 3 IN )

CISGENDER FEMALE, USES SHE / HER PRONOUNS

GEMINI CANCER CUSP, YEAR OF EARTH RABBIT

HETEROFLEXIBLE, KINSEY SCALE #2, CURIOUS

𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖉𝖎𝖛𝖊.

TRAJECTORY / Michelle was born in Valley Glen, CA to David and Heesun Chae—the owners of a struggling restaurant in their neck of the woods. As a kid, she trained to become a figure skater, but when her father bailed on her and her mother because of a drug addiction, she couldn’t afford the expenses for coaching, etc. so she retired from it for now. / Instead of being able to truly enjoy her youth, she had to pick-up after school jobs in order to help her mom with bills, and for awhile, her only source of comfort was spent with guys that showed her affection. Her relationships with boys grossly gave her the title of a “whore” to her peers, so she sadly didn’t have many friends to lean on in high school. / Originally traveled to Korea to earn a nursing degree from SNU, but got scouted by BCE on her first day—prompting her to drop out of school to focus primarily on training. This enraged her mother as the plan was for her to become a nurse so they no longer had to worry about money. / After only a few months of training, she’s selected to debut as a member of Chroma. OTHER FACTS / Not mentioned in her biography is the fact that she grew up in a fairly religious family. Mom and dad were raised Christian, so they raised their daughter the same. She was never into church, though. She always felt as though she was being judged harshly by the others in attendance. Hell, she even thought that of her mother quite often. Her style was never as pristine as her mom would’ve liked and no one understood her interests in the occult, in anime, in video games, and so forth. By the time she was eighteen, she stopped showing up to service altogether—which her mom didn’t like, but respected nevertheless. / She still likes to skate in her spare time... but she doesn’t really have any nowadays. You’d think that she’d be in the dance line due to her past in performance, but since she stopped skating, she’s lost a lot of her flexibility and power. She hopes to improve though! / She’s never had many close female friends, so she looks forward to hopefully bonding with her members as they grow closer. This is something she wants to change about herself a lot. INSPIRATION / For Michelle, I pulled a lot of inspiration from a few different characters from television series, mainly Cassie Howard from Euphoria; Manuella “Manny” Santos from Degrassi: The Next Generation; Tessa Campanelli from Degrassi JH / High; and Britney Orton from We Are Who We Are, among others!

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞.

01. On the surface, Michelle’s reasonably pleasant to be around. She has a deep interest in people, especially those she’s close to, so if you’re a friend of her’s, she genuinely wants to know all about you and deeply cares about how you’re feeling / doing. Some might perceive this high level of intrigue as romantic, and she’s... not ever really going to confirm or deny those types of feelings. She’s a huuuge believer in love and doesn’t want to end up like her parents, but also has no idea what she’s doing when it comes down to it. She didn’t have the best example to look up to, so you know. 02. Michelle’s really talkative, and she’s witty, and she knows how to charm the pants off of most people, and while that’s loud and present in her character, she also has many faults. For one, her emotions are really strong and her mood is easily affected by others and events that occur in day-to-day life, so she has a tendency of being moody. That, and she also isn’t the best “rule follower” either. Does she care that there’s a dating ban in place for she and Chroma? Absolutely not. Did she experiment with drugs and alcohol in high school when they were forbidden to her? Yes. She’s not the best at making decisions, but she believes that taking risks shape better people... even if that belief’s a little skewed. 03. Some people say that she might be a little too “sweet” for her own good sometimes and she��s prone to getting her heart stomped on, but she’s not all that innocent. While she’s a huge believer in love, she’s not exactly good at it. She enters in and out of relationships all the time, and she loves the honeymoon phase, but whenever it starts to get too “real,” she gets nervous and bails. Abandonment issues FTW? A very strong possibility. 04. She’s also empathic to a fault on occasion. It’s easy for her to pick up on the emotions of others and it’s hard for her not to carry them on her shoulders. She’s had a difficult time learning that boundary for herself, and well, at this point, she doesn’t even realize that it’s a thing. Mother taught her how to be kind and nurturing towards loved ones, but she can take it to a degree that isn’t healthy for anyone—especially if love / romance is involved. 05. Her chattiness can sometimes land her in trouble, but that’s because she has a hard time filtering what she says. Her mind runs a mile a minute and her speaking patterns are similar, so sadly, she can’t control what comes out of her mouth sometimes... pray for her.

𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉-𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘.

01. If I were to make any sort of “claim” on what I imagine her voice sounding like, it’d be a lot like J from STAYC, maybe with a little mix of fromis_9′s Seoyeon. There’s a delicate husk there, and it’s a little lower than the others, but it’s extremely recognizable and unique. That is her biggest asset as a singer and rapper. She’s not had enough time to truly make drastic improvements to either skill given her short stint as a trainee, but she’s working really hard to get better and doesn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face forever. 02. Dance-wise, she’s actually pretty strong—just nowhere near as trained as Chroma’s dance line. Due to her extensive background in figure skating ( and a little bit of ballet ), she’s got a really natural gracefulness to all of her moves; a fluidity that allows for strong body rolls, etc. Additionally, she focuses on clarity and sharpness, angles, as that’s what she’s most familiar with. Michelle also has great control of her hip-area and often adds variations to moves using her hips. If I were to select a reference, I’d say Oh My Girl’s Arin and TWICE’s Mina. Some of her faults are that her movements are often too light and soft, so whenever power is needed, she lacks strength there. She also has a tendency of making choreography look a little “sensual” without necessarily intending to. 03. Loooves when people call her Mish or Chelle/Shell. Honestly, she adores nicknames—both giving and receiving them. She’s also a heavy user of pet names in conversation, but tries her best to stop if people are uncomfortable with it. 04. Michelle’s typically not afraid of making her affections known, even early on. She’s the type that’ll definitely hit on you if she thinks you’re handsome / attractive, and goes with the flow if the person responds positively. If she gets really cozy with you, she can come off as clingy in the beginning, but that typically subsides with time. That’s applicable to both her friendships and her romantic relationships. 05. Her public image is similar to that of Alice in Wonderland and Snow White—beauties with fair skin and wide eyes; imaginative and curious; trapped in purity and sweetness; soft, feminine, and delicate—but with a slight “edge” because of her rapping and quick wit. It’s hard for her to keep up with it all the time—especially when she’s a bit different personally—and she’s barely starting in her career. She hopes it evolves over time. 06. She’s decided to go by her Korean name as an idol because it made the most sense, to be honest. Though, a few other stage names tossed around were: Chelle, Wooah, Hayan, Rozy, and Baekseol. In the end, she’s happy she’s just Rorin or Michelle to everyone.

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙-𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘.

This section will be updated when her plots page is complete. Please look forward to it !! I’m getting it done as fast as I can. In the meantime, I’m happy to brainstorm and look over your muses’ plots pages too !! ♡

#〈 INTRODUCTION. 〉#〈 YOUR ONE & ONLY. 〉

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thatsbucknasty · 4 years

Text

she used to be mine (viii) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are open c:

it’s been a while and I’m sorry it took me so long to update, I hope you’re still enjoying this!

chapter 8: bad idea

What was I thinking? I can’t get involved with my doctor, no matter how sweet and handsome he is. I’m still legally a married woman. I don’t need any more drama right now. I gotta focus on carrying my baby to full term and building a life for us both.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to- please forgive me, I know technically you’re still married and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you feel uncomfortable with”.

He stands up quickly and puts effort to keep himself a few feet away from me, and I find myself yearning for him to close the distance but also grateful cause right now I need space. I need to breathe.

“Please leave, Bucky”. I plead and my voice isn’t cold but he still looks at me with the saddest puppy eyes in history and my heart breaks as I watch him leave the room.

“Where are the cookie trays? I can’t find anything in this kitchen, I leave for a few days, that’s it, just a couple of days and nothing’s in its place!”

“Ooh, someone’s cranky today” Sam thinks he’s being funny.

“Sam, don’t. She hasn’t had a single cup of coffee in months now, I think the withdrawal symptoms are finally showing up, plus you should never call a pregnant woman ‘cranky’ if you want to preserve your well being”.

“I’m right here, you know?” I yell at them.

“What happened, sweetie? You seem really upset”.

“It’s nothing, I just gave myself a deadline and I’m stressing over it, that’s all”.

“A deadline? What for? Do you need a planner too? Cause I accidentally bought two of them, so if you want-”.

“Thanks, Wanda, I don’t need a planner. The deadline’s for my savings. I have to make 36 pies today and another 36 tomorrow if I want to pay the hospital for my past bill. I already have more than half of it and if I have that bill dealt with by the weekend, I can start saving for the birth again”.

“I think I have a headache, that’s a lot of maths for me”. Sam chimes in from across the kitchen.

“Y/N, we already told you we can help you out! You don’t need to be doing all of this on your own and working extra time while pregnant isn’t exactly great for the baby”. Nat scolds me with her mom friend voice but I already told them, this is my problem and I’ll deal with it alone, I just roll my eyes at her and continue with my task.

“Okay, we know she’s stubborn and won’t let any of us pay for anything. I respect how hard working she is but now’s not the time to deny help from her friends”. Natasha explains to everybody in the room while Y/N is baking her 7th batch of pies where she can’t hear them. The diner’s closed and there are no patrons left, so the three of them are sitting in a booth.

“Do you think something happened with Doctor Ocean Eyes back at the hospital? First she seemed happy to be left alone with him and when we got back she was packing her stuff and screaming at us to take her away from there, it’s all so confusing”. Wanda scratches her head and Sam just sighs, sinking into the booth, clueless.

“Maybe, but she won’t talk about it”. Nat responds.

“What if someone asked Doctor Pretty what happened?” Wanda grabs Nat’s hand excited about her genius idea.

“I don’t know honey, that could make her even angrier”.

“I’ll do it. I’ll go talk to him”. Sam straightens up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Y/N is like a sister to me, I should go see this Doctor of hers and demand answers!” He stands up, decisiveness in his eyes and Wanda cheers him up.

“Good morning, ma’am. Is Doctor Barnes here?” Sam walks up to nurse Maria’s desk.

“Sure, he’s with a patient. Does your wife have an appointment?”

“My wife? No, no, I’m just here to talk to him, I won’t be long, I promise”.

“Oh, well if you could just sit over there and wait till he’s free I can let him know you’re here to see him, are you a friend of his?”

“Uh, yeah sure”. He’s nerves make him lie to the nurse but she’s too busy reading a crime novel to pay much attention to his fidgeting.

“Doctor Barnes? Your ten o’clock called to say she’s running late but your friend Sam’s here to see you”. Maria announces and then leaves, while Sam enters the office.

“My friend Sam? I don’t- oh, hi”.

“Hi”. Sam stands next to the door awkwardly.

“So, you work at Nick’s Diner?”

“What? How did you-”

“Your uniform. Looks a lot like Y/N’s”.

“Right, yeah. Listen, I know this might seem weird and maybe it isn’t my place but-” Sam sighs, struggling to find the right words while Bucky eyes him, also nervous. A tall, muscular dude comes into his office, obviously there to talk about Y/N, he’s a little intimidated.

“Y/N’s one of my best friends. We’ve been there for each other since high school, I’ve seen her at her happiest and at her most miserable, and right now she is miserable. We don’t know why and she totally closed off and won’t let anyone in, which is not like her at all, so, if you know anything, please tell me. The girls say she was fine when they left her with you and when they got back she was freaking out. Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Well, I don’t-”

“Please man, I know we don’t know each other, but I need you to be honest”.

Bucky lets out a breath he was holding and sits on top of his desk. He looks defeated and even though Sam doesn’t know much about him he can tell, Bucky looks as miserable as Y/N.

“Yeah something happened”. Bucky looks down at his shoes.

“And?”

“And she said it was a bad idea. A mistake. I offered to help her out with the hospital bill and she accepted”.

“She did? Huh”:

“Yeah but then we kissed and I made things awkward, then she freaked out and told me to forget it, said she could pay her own bills and didn’t need anybody, called the nurses to tell ‘em she wanted to be discharged and took off”.

Sam could hear the pain in his voice but didn’t say anything.

“She’s important to me and I just wanted to let her know but I understand how it can be difficult for her to trust me”.

“Well, tell her that”.

“Nah, I think it’s best for me to just give her some space”.

“No, dude. Space is overrated, she needs to hear this from you. Hey man, I can tell you’re a decent guy. Nicer than Quentin for sure, and I can also tell you care about Y/N, she’s a tough gal and she can very well manage on her own, but I know she cares about you too. And if no one of you morons will take the first step toward something real and good, you’re gonna regret it”.

Bucky let out a laugh and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No ofense, but you’re both pretty stupid”. Sam smiles at him.

“Thanks”.

“Well, are you gonna talk to her?”

“Yeah, I’ll stop by the diner later tonight”.

“Great then! My job here is done. Good luck and don’t let her scare you away, underneath the tough surface lies a soft cheeseball who actually likes you back, she just needs a little push”.

“Thank you-”

“Sam, Wilson”.

“Bucky”.

They shake hands and Sam leaves. Bucky feels a weight lift off his chest and the small hope of seeing Y/N again begins to overflow his mind with memories of her smile, the shape of her hands and the smell of sugar and butter. He has something to look forward to today and that’s such a relief for him.

He’s spent the last couple of weeks moping around the hospital, counting the days on the calendar for Y/N’s next appointment which isn’t for another four weeks. But now he’s giddy and excited cause that wait has shortened and he’ll see her in just a few hours. ‘Should I bring her flowers?’, he thinks. ‘No, I haven’t asked what her favorite flowers are yet’. He’ll think of something. He’ll make things right and get his girl tonight. His girl.

chapter 9: you matter to me

#waitress au #she used to be mine #waitress musical #waitress!reader #doctor!Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #nina writes #marvel au #bucky barnes

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thejolexgroupchat · 3 years

Text

the one where they met in med school - part sixteen

hospital mergers and new friends

Hi everyone! Hope you are having a wonderful holiday season. We are so excited for you to read this next part. Let us know what you think in the comments. Happy reading!!

@iamtrebleclefstories @doc-pickles and Nat!

———

(July 2008)

"Today's the day," Jo announced as she walked into Meredith's hospital room, a bowl of soup in hand. She placed the steaming bowl on the bedside tray in front of Meredith. "I saw a whole bunch of people in orange scrubs swarm into the lobby when we walked in. I didn't feel like socializing with them so early, so I changed quickly and I decided to come see you."

"I know. I saw them all walk past my room. I can't believe I'm stuck in this bed while the Mercy-Westers try to steal our jobs," Meredith groaned. "I just had to go and donate part of my liver to my father so that my sister wouldn't lose another parent."

"And Lexie loves you all the more for it," Jo grinned. "Look, if it's any consolation, I made everyone promise we'd come in to update you on how things are going."

“Thank you,” Meredith clutched Jo’s hands gratefully. “Wait, isn’t today your first day as a resident? Why aren’t you in the lounge?”

“Because Webber is assigning each of us a resident from Mercy West that will shadow us today to get familiar with and I really do not want to be shadowed by the enemy today,” Jo huffed in annoyance. “I’m already frustrated because Izzie interrupted Alex and I this morning because she wanted to borrow one of my long sleeves. So, I never got laid.”

Meredith laughed, “I hope that Derek and I are still as crazy about each other as you two are after four and a half years together.”

“You know, before Alex, I never knew it could be that good,” Jo thought back to the early days of their relationship. “I swear I had more sex that first week of our relationship than I’d had in my entire life, up until that point. I’ve had great sex before and it’s not like I didn’t love sex before, but I swear, Meredith, Alex awoke something in me that I didn’t know existed. It was just… different with him. And it still is. Every single time I feel like I might burst at the seams.”

“Wow, Wilson. Alex is that good in bed?” Meredith chuckled as she teased her friend a bit.

“Even better,” Jo hummed, joining in on Meredith’s joke. “You really have no idea. He is… talented.”

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there because I definitely do not want to hear what Alex is like in bed," Meredith shuddered. "You need to go to the resident's lounge and find your Mercy-Wester. Don't want to be late."

"Ugh, fine," Jo frowned and stood up from where she had perched herself on Meredith's bed. "I'll be back later with updates."

***

“Hey,” Jo met up with Alex in the hallway and smiled. “I thought you were in the lounge.”

“No, I dropped off my stuff while Webber was giving them the tour and his speech so that I didn’t have to associate with them,” Alex said as he smoothed down his scrub top. “I left my pager in my cubby though, so I had to come back.”

“Well, you know you’re getting assigned a resident from Mercy West right?” Jo reminded him.

“Dammit,” Alex frowned. “I forgot about that.”

As they approached the lounge, they heard some commotion coming from inside.

“I said take it out.”

“Great. I got the crazy one next to me.”

“Oh, you want to fight? Cause I will.”

Alex and Jo walked into the lounge and watched Izzie stand up in front of a woman in orange scrubs. The pair raised their eyebrows and called out to her, “Izzie! Iz.”

“I will fight you. You’re pretty tiny,” Izzie’s tall frame loomed over the pixie-haired woman’s. “I could take you down in just a couple of seconds.”

Alex reached out to grab Izzie’s arms, pulling her back from the other resident, “Come on. Come on.”

“Stop!” Izzie protested.

“Come on,” Alex continued to pull her back away from the group and pushed her out the door, Jo grabbing his pager and following them out the door.

“They took George’s cubby,” Izzie finally explained as she, Cristina, Lexie, Alex, and Jo stood over the balcony, watching as the orange scrubs moved around the hospital.

Jo put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Okay, I say we go hang out in Mer’s room.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cristina turned and led the way back to their friend’s hospital room.

“They’re locusts,” Meredith said as they finally arrived and updated her about this morning’s occurrences. “Comfortable locusts, feeding on our surgeries.”

“It’s rude,” Izzie popped a grape into her mouth. “There should at least be a couple days where they act like guests before they put their feet up on the coffee table.”

“And what’s with orange scrubs?” Lexie peeked through the window into the hallway. “What, ours aren’t good enough for ‘em?”

“We ran out. They’re on back order,” Jo informed. “Randall from the supply company says they’ll be here in a week.”

“Why bother ordering new ones when we can just give these to our replacements?” Cristina deadpanned.

“We’re not gonna be replaced by anybody,” Alex shook his head.

“They’re here. It’s over,” Cristina sighed and sat down in one of the chairs.

“Hey. We are not some stupid hosts. They can’t invade us,” Meredith shook her head. “They can’t attach themselves to our faces and then while we’re eating spaghetti, explode out of our chests and skitter across the floor. This is our ship. This is our ship.”

Lexie wrinkled her brow, “Excuse me. Are you—are you quoting a Sigourney Weaver movie?”

“Shut up,” Meredith shrugged.

Izzie chuckled, “That’s what happens when you live here. You watch a lot of TV.”

“We own this hospital,” Meredith looked around the room at her friends. “We were born in this hospital. And we will hold this hospital with our last gasping breath. Go out there and go get surgeries before they take them. Go! And I want a full report by the end of the day.”

“Fine.” The doctors sighed and shuffled out of room, leaving only Cristina behind to sulk with Meredith.

***

“Okay, where do you want us?” Jo asked as she, Alex, and Lexie walked into the ER.

“Uh, at this point, anywhere is good,” Hunt looked around the crowded emergency room.

“At Mercy West we do zones. When it’s super busy, we just give everyone a zone, a space. The nurses put a person in that space, you know it’s your patient. Helps you get to them quicker,” the male in orange scrubs suggested, putting his stethoscope around his neck as the two women behind him nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, well, this is the ER not a school yard. We’re not playing four square,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“I like it,” Hunt announced. “It’s a good idea. Let’s try it. What’s your name?”

“Jackson Avery.”

Owen shook Jackson’s hand, “Dr. Avery, I’m Dr. Hunt. It’s all yours. Zone away.”

Lexie, Jo, and Alex all exchanged a look. Jo let out a groan, “Ugh. That’s the one. That’s the resident that’s supposed to shadow me.”

“That guy?” Alex pointed and made a face. “I can already tell he’s a jerk.”

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” Lexie mumbled, causing Jo to snicker. “I know we’re supposed to hate them, but is it wrong of me to say that he’s kind of hot? Like really hot?”

“Um, yes,” Jo looked at her friend strangely. “Besides, aren’t you with Sloan?”

“Hey! I can look,” Lexie waved her hands slightly. “I just won’t touch.”

“Let’s go,” Alex motioned for the girls to follow him.

***

“You were right. I hate him,” Jo slammed her tray down on the table as they reconvened for lunch in the cafeteria. “But not because he’s a jerk. Because he’s really freaking nice!”

“This blows,” Alex placed his tray next to hers and sat down.

“Getting your ass kicked?” Cristina asked.

“Shut up,” Alex responded, his mouth full of food. He looked over to Jo. “I heard yours got a standing ovation in the ER.”

“Yours is the one who saved the whole ER from the maniac with the hammer?” Lexie looked up from the little book she was reading.

“Okay, he didn’t save anyone,” Jo shook her head in annoyance. “He did some stupid ninja leap and then tripped a guy. I used actual medicine to stop a person from dying.”

“At least he’s pretty to look at,” Cristina shrugged. “I’m too depressed to practice medicine today.”

“Well, mine has a notebook, a notebook that she takes notes in. Notes of a very personal nature, and I stole it,” Lexie held up the tiny pink book for them to see.

“You what?” Cristina’s eyes widened.

“Give it,” Alex stuck his hand out.

“No. No, I—I’m not sinking down to their level,” Lexie put the book in her lab coat pocket. “They are vindictive and they are aggressive and—and they are not team players. And if we are not careful, that spirit is going to infect our hospital. We have to fight it.”

Cristina nodded, “Which is why you stole the notebook?”

“And read it?” Alex added.

“And now you’re hiding it from us?” Jo looked at her friend, amused.

“Well, she’s not a very nice person.”

“Hey,” Izzie walked up to the table, two coffees in hand.

“Ooh! Can I have that?” Alex reached out to grab the coffee.

“No. This isn’t for you,” Izzie slapped his hand away.

“Who’s it for then?” Jo asked.

“Charles.”

“Your Mercy-Wester?” Cristina exclaimed.

“They’re handing us out asses on a plate, and you’re serving him coffee?” Alex made a face.

“Charles is actually kind of awesome,” Izzie shrugged. “If you all could get past your sad, little egos, you would realize you can’t write off all the Mercy West residents just because you feel threatened.”

“We don’t feel threatened,” Jo called out as Izzie turned and walked away. She looked back at the table. “Okay, maybe a little threatened.”

***

At the end of the day, Jo was exhausted. She’d spent the entirety of her first official day as a resident getting her ass handed to her by pretty-boy Avery. All she wanted was to change out of her scrubs and get back to the house and maybe finally get laid.

She had pulled her scrub top off when she heard some noise behind her. Glancing back, she saw Avery and a few of the other Mercy-Westers walk in to leave for the night. Ignoring them, Jo continued to change out of her scrubs and into her street clothes.

“Hey, Wilson.”

Jo turned at the sound of her name, her shirt only halfway on and huffed, “What?”

Avery gave her a quick once over and cracked a charming smile, “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot today. I think it’s safe to say that I overstepped and should’ve backed off a bit. What do you say we start over?”

“Ya think?” Jo finished smoothing down her shirt and crossed her arms. “Okay. I guess we can start over.”

“Great,” he extended his hand out to her. “Hi, Dr. Wilson, my name is Jackson.”

Despite herself, Jo cracked a small smile and shook his hand in return, “Hi, Jackson. Call me Jo.”

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noonaficcorner · 4 years

Text

Rose-Colored Boy | Part Three

Paring: Mark Tuan | Reader

Genre/Rating: Friends to Lovers | Fluff, Smut (later on), Slight Angst

Warning: Language

Summary: Working as a Nurse, Y/N's favorite pastime is getting lost in her favorite online game with her online gamer squad. After 2 years of online banter, Y/N finally gets the chance to get closer to and meet her online friend, Mark Tuan. With many things in common and the same twisted sense of humor, one thing still remains a mystery: Mark's career that causes him to constantly travel out of the country. Still, Y/N decides to take a chance on what could be more than just friendship and meets Mark for the first time. (New Summary thanks to a friend)

NOTES: So Sorry for the year later update! Writer’s block is terrible. But I’m feeling inspired so expect some more soon.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

“You’re on your phone again? Careful, you’re going to end up needing bifocals.” Bora said as she completed her reports next to your desk. Bora was a first-year resident, and even though you were a nurse, you became friends when you were both going through your respective programs.

You shrugged off her question and continued with your search. The internet was a blessing and a curse. It gave you everything you could have asked for, but also things you didn’t.

It had been five days since you ran out of Mark’s apartment. It had been four days since you looked up GOT7. Three days since listening to their music. Two since watching their variety shows on YouTube. And yesterday, determined you have lost your mind.

Finding out your online friend was actually an idol was every fangirls’ wet dream. However, it sent you into a state of panic and never-ending anxiety. You tried to recall every conversation you ever had with Mark, to pick out the lies or rather the omitted truths. By the fifth day, you could give Sherlock a run for his money with the amount of digging you’ve done.

Just as you finished reading another interview Mark did with a magazine, his name flashed across your phone screen. This was the twenty-fifth call just today. He was averaging around forty calls and twenty text messages a day. Each one gone ignored until you figured out how to deal with the new information.

“Why don’t you just answer him? How bad is it that you have a celebrity friend? Pretty sure you’re no different than anyone he went to school with.” Bora took the seat next to you and tried to snatch the phone out of your hands. You had to eventually tell her what was going on when she kept suggesting you go to the clinic to get some sleeping pills since you looked like a walking zombie. You told her the whole story, from when you would talk in the game to when you basically ran from his apartment as if it was on fire. She thought you were crazy and that you should be excited to have met someone famous.

What she said was true but you weren’t ready to handle that part. Could you really just throw caution to the wind and have a friendship with someone who was adored all over the world, but only a half-decent gamer, that you’ve known for two years? You started to question everything and that is what felt crappy.

Two long years. Now knowing who Mark actually was, it made things more clear. Why he never wanted to say what he did for work. Why that “job” had him disappearing for weeks and months at a time. He could have been on tour or filming a music video. Some things checked out. He did have siblings, that he was from California, and had come here as a teenager. What he failed to mention was the reason he actually moved here.

Your head hit the top of the reception desk, wishing for something to just whisk you away from this stress.

“My biggest question in this craziness is, ‘why now?’ All of a sudden he just wants to start talking to you and meet up now? Isn’t that weird?” Bora questioned. Your head popped up to answer, but your mouth hung open, realizing that you didn’t have one. She was right. Why did things all of a sudden change? Things were going fine as an online friendship of when you’d kick his ass and laugh at each other’s mistakes.

Just as your mind started to travel down this new road of speculation, your phone vibrated in hand with an incoming text.

Y/N. I just want to know you’re alive at least. I fucked up… but I still care.

You looked at the text over and over and before you could talk yourself out of it, a reply was typed in the box.

Why did things have to change? The message turned blue with a press of your finger before you could overthink and erase what you asked. It wasn’t even a second before the typing dots were shown and you knew he was responding.

I’d like to answer that question in person. But if you don’t want to meet, I understand. Can you answer my call at least? He pleaded. Before you could say yes or no, your phone was vibrating in your hands. Right when you were about to swipe right and decline the call, Bora snatched the phone from your hands and accepted.

“Bor!” you yelled, but all she did was press the phone to your cheek and got up to run off, leaving you with a voice coming through the receiver.

“Hello? Y/N? Are you there?” Mark had a slightly worried tone in his voice.

“Uh, hi?” you didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but at least you answered, right?

“Hi… I’m so sorry. I fucked up and I want to make it right. I didn’t mean for you to find out the way you did, but you have to believe me when I say I was going to tell you. It was never my intention to lie, I just didn’t know how to explain that part of my life. And when Yugyeom…”

“Mark. Breathe.” You interrupted his word vomit and rolled your chair into the corner so you could have some kind of privacy. You could hear him take a deep breath through the phone, but he didn’t continue speaking, ultimately waiting for you.

“I… I can’t say it doesn’t matter that you’re an id… singer. But what bothers me the most is that on some level you felt like you couldn’t even tell me. Granted, we talked mostly about gaming and pet dogs and random things we saw on youtube, but I think we became a little more than random strangers.” It was your turn for word vomit and all you wanted to do is run away from everything,

“You are. You’re definitely more than just a stranger to me. I just didn’t know how to bring both parts of my life together.” his voice sounded heavy with remorse. Part of you wanted to crack a joke to make the sad tone in his voice disappear but if things were awkward before, they were tripled now.

When you didn’t respond, Mark sighed through the receiver and asked, “Is there any way that we can meet so I can explain everything?”

You were still trying to process all of the things and somehow your mouth decided it was now independent from the rest of your mind and the word yes flowed out. Immediately you covered the traitor as Mark sounded relieved on the other end.

“Really? Tha-thanks. I can meet you or you can come over to the house. I can make sure we will have no interruptions this time as I just explain everything. Whatever works best for you.”

What surprised you as your hand continued to cover your mouth, was the scene that played out in your mind. Meeting Mark at some cafe as he pulled down his mask and a hoard of people swarmed around the two of you, wanting to get a piece of him. You go to protect him and then you’re knocked out with an ahgabong and Mark will be whisked away like a sacrificial lamb and they will put him on some shrine after shaving his head.

“Yourplaceisfine.” you rushed out, shaking that horrific vision from your mind. Never again will you go down the hole that is KPOP fandom, it’s a scary place.

“Thank you, y/n. I really am sorry for everything.” the apology came out in almost a whisper and if you weren’t paying the utmost attention, you would have missed it.

“Does noon work for you?” you asked, slight doubt in your voice. Now that you were aware of his career, you weren’t sure if you would be intruding on some important time.

“No, no. Noon is perfect. Remember how to get here? If not, I can text you the address.” His voice was shaky and it conflicted with the persona that you saw in the multiple videos of him on stage. He was confident when doing acrobatics and the raps that left his lips coated with swag. The duality fucked with your head a bit.

“I remember. I… gotta get back to work. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow, Mark. Uh… bye?” without waiting for a response, you ended the call and slid out of your chair and crawled under the desk. If you could live under there like a troll, you would. Trying to beat down the anxiety that the phone call gave you was nothing compared to the boulder of worry you had about going back to his place. But you owed it to him and yourself to see this through. He had been your friend for 2 years. Maybe him being crazy famous wouldn’t change any of that history. Maybe...

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calypsoff2 · 3 years

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Fourteen. Part 5

Seeing my eldest two dote on Imani, they are making sure she is smiling somehow “don’t you both have homework?” it’s getting late here “yeah but mom, Imani is not well so we need stay here” these girls are trying it now, they got school too “I think you need to say your byes and go home, you need to go to school tomorrow” Rylee and Tianna are both looking at me like I just swore at them but I just told them that they need to go home “are you coming?” Shaking my head “I need to stay here baby, right now Imani is not well, and she needs her rest and she needs me to stay here. I cannot go home, I’ll be home once my pumpkin is home” Rylee looked down in disappointment, I know she assumed that I would be home with them, but I can’t leave my daughter here, she is my youngest baby “but I don’t want to go either?” Tilting my head to the side unimpressed, I’m gonna need Rylee to not do this to me “you’re going home Rylee, dad will be with you” Chris looked at me and I just swore at him too “I can stay here too you know?” Of course he has something to say “Chris, I am staying here. The girls won’t go without any of us, I need you to just do it. They want you to go at least” I really don’t need him to play up “Monica is here she can?” Frowning at him “is it really that hard for you to just listen to what I say? They want me to put them to sleep but I can’t Chris, I want them to go home and do their homework and go to bed, why is it so hard to do? Why is it that I get this attitude about I should do it, I want you to go home and take the girls to bed, not my mother, you” I’ve had enough of him, my mother smirked a little, not sure why but it seemed to be pleasing for her to see me be like this but I am not having it “ok” he said, he’s already in my bad books by coming at me the way he did so now he can fucking listen to me go, I don’t care about anything but my kids, my daughters need to go home for school, they can’t stay here like they want.

Rylee and Tianna are dragging their feet with going, my mother and Chris are going “I’ll see you tomorrow morning mamacita, I promise. Don’t go surgery without me now” Imani shook her head “I wait” she is so adorable my youngest “good girl” Tianna held my hand “so you are staying here mom? Can we come here after school” nodding my head “of course, go and wait with momo. I need to speak to your dad” I say speak but it’s going to be very vague, Tianna let my hand go and walked off to my mother “I don’t get it, I could be here with my daughter too?” Nodding my head “and leave my mother is fly my daughters into school? She can’t drive, I can stay here with Imani, and you can come in the morning, I don’t get why you have to make an issue about it? Like this whole thing, you are letting my mother push you, I want you to throw that card away talking about I go where you go, you’re full of shit” I said in a whisper “me!?” He spat “the kids are there, don’t shout but you are. Saying you will support me but don’t do shit, saying you will move wherever for me, all you done is tell me my mother that I am doing wrong? I don’t get you and on top of that you come at me? In the hallway, who you think you are? Whatever comes out of your mouth I don’t want to hear it” I pointed “just take care” I moved away from him “yeah” he just said as he walked off “you not kissing?” Rylee said, and she’s being deadass “no kissing” I laughed, these girls asking about us kissing, what are they like these three kids of mine “why?” Rylee questioned “no reason, just not today but I will see you tomorrow. I will be waiting, have a good day in school” waving them off, I need some sanity from these people meaning my husband and my mother because they are driving me insane for nothing too, just pure ganging up on me.

I am just blessed that Imani is ok, but I am so nervous about her having surgery. I don’t like that my baby will be away from me, she made me sing her to sleep. Which honestly I don’t like doing but she asked and how can I say no to her, I couldn’t but she fell asleep happy as anything. She looks so content and that just makes me emotional, this is what means so much to me even though my own husband thinks it doesn’t, like I want to work, like I want to do this too. I rather be with my daughters, but I can’t. I’ve come so far, and I will take my kids with me if I need to go again now. Just because they made that remark, I will a hundred percent take them now. He can stay at home because I don’t need him like he thinks, my phone started vibrating. I better pick up Chris’ call or I will get another mouthful that I am ignoring him and how dare I just not pick up which I get but he could have waited to say it, answering the call “hey” I answered, “awake still?” He said down the phone “yep” I mean of course I would be, what else would I be doing “I’m sorry about earlier” I knew it, I knew he would say those words “save it Chris, you don’t disrespect me like that. A simple sorry is not cutting it because you’re just going to continue to just do the same shit, don’t take my mother’ side, you just be quiet. How dare you, just leave me be. See you in the morning Chris, goodnight” disconnecting the call, I don’t want to hear it from him at all. He can be so awful with me sometimes, such a big mouth he has, and he never thinks before he acts, never in the time we have been married as he ever just thought let me just wait before barking, he just barks to me every single time.

I won’t lie to myself at all, I stayed up most of the night just thinking. I dislike my kids in hospital, that hurts me so much, it gives me flashbacks to Rylee, and I can’t take it. Chris assumed I would be going home with the girls; hell no. I am staying here with my baby and consoling her. Yes I am tired, I probably look a mess, but I don’t care. Imani woke up very grumpy, she’s not happy. She wanted her sling off, she wanted cuddles and she’s just ok in my arms snuggling me, she’s fallen asleep again “my baby” now I know what Chris means by her swollen arm, she hated me when I changed her diaper, I think I may have hurt her in the process, my poor princess “hey” Chris said as he walked into the room, I smiled lightly “not slept” do I look that bad “yeah” I breathed out, I mean I must look bad “how is she? Ok?” Chris asked “not well, she’s in pain. She just wants snuggles, I picked her up and placed her on my lap and then she fell sleep, I can’t feed her because of the surgery” Chris poked his lips out “my eldest two went to school ok?” I asked him “uh yeah, they was a little sad because they miss Imani, they said they do but they went to school ok” least they did “I don’t’ want to talk about it” I said to Chris knowing full well he was going to say that word, he says that word but doesn’t mean it.

I am having a hard time knowing my daughter is having surgery, but I am being strong for her, I need to be strong for her because she is looking to us. She knows something is off, the doctor is here asking questions “you think Imani will be ok with inserting a needle or you think we need to do the induction through inhalation?” looking at Imani, with the way she is at this moment in time she won’t be good “I think inhalation for her, she knows something is off. She is playing up a little because of it” the doctor nodded his head; the anaesthetist will be around. The porters will be also, we will do the surgery as quickly as possible, and painless. And then once she is under you can both wait in the hospital, we will keep you both updated as much as we can ok?” nodding my head, this is the worst part of it, leaving my daughter alone with them “ok” I breathed out, I just want my daughter to be ok. If this surgery mean she will be ok to heal then so be it “please take care of her” my voice broke “of course we will, see you soon” the doctor walked off, looking at Imani and she is staring at me in confusion.

I really hate this feeling, I just can’t describe the hurt I feel just changing her diaper, well she has to put that on during it “don’t be taking a pictures of my wife bro, don’t be doing that over here” hearing Chris say but I am not even paying attention “please come in” the double doors opened to the elevator, I really feel sick right now. Imani is watching paw patrol; he isn’t paying anyone any attention. Entering the elevator “she really likes it doesn’t she? You like dogs” the nurse said “doggy” Imani pointed “awww yes, my son also loves that. Same age as you, drives me crazy” small talk is just the worst and I feel we have been on this elevator for long enough, but I feel we are going very low down in this hospital, the doors opened and it’s so eerily horrible. Stepping off the elevator “dad it off” looking behind me “oh yeah it has” he said “no connection here” the nurse said, I assumed so “you can watch it after, promise” the nurse walked ahead of us, I could really be sick right now “after” Imani repeated “not now” she isn’t impressed that she can’t watch her thing, nothing actually really matters in life when shit like this happens. No money in the world can change anything about this, I hate it so much.

Imani keeps getting up and the nurses around her just want her to lay down, because she can’t really see us she keeps looking forward “what are you looking at Imani?” the nurse asked, she pointed with her healthy arm and at us “hi” she waved at us “be a good girl now” I said “hold me” she said, shaking my head “just lay there” the anaesthetist looked at us “we will be putting her under now” I cringed internally “if you want to both settle her, it will be smooth” I don’t think I can do it, feeling a pair of hands on my shoulder and being pushed forward “lay down” I said, I need to snap out of it “stand there for me” the anaesthetist said to Chris as he was going to stand on the other side “you relax like this” touching the top of her head “I want to go” she mumbled, she’s going to play up now. She is getting annoyed “I go now” she moved “stay baby it’s ok, we are here too. Forget home” she looked around her, I think she isn’t liking the environment. The more she is looking the more she knows something is not right “mommy I don’t like it” she said, don’t cry is all I am repeating to myself “don’t think about it” the anaesthetist is bringing the mask closer to Imani, and she clocked it “no” she turned away “I don’t think she wants that, relax” Chris said to the anaesthetist, he just moved back quietly.

Imani is not playing ball; she is holding my hand “shall we do sing song?” Imani nodded her head “you know I hate doing this, you the only one to drag me out of this hiatus” I laughed “you start, and I finish. One, two, three. Go” I said “oh na na” I snorted laughing “what’s my name” I said through my laugh “oh na na” she said again “what’s my name!” she shouted giggling, the anaesthetist was close enough to have Imani inhale with the mask close by. Watching Imani slowly drift off, and he hand dropped off “I love you” I moved away before I ended up being a wreck, looking up at Chris’ face, he is so sad. I walked by him just wanting to leave “we will call on you both for when we bring her around” the nurse said but I just don’t want to hear it, that is my baby there. Leaving the room and just walking off, I continued to walk and walk to leave this horrible place that I have come too. Feeling a tug at my, Chris yanked me back and hugged me and I just let my emotions out, every emotion I am feeling because of everything. I am hurting.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfiction

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Seven - Booooze Cruuuuise

Word Count: 3107

Author’s Note: Ack! So, loving updating this. Should point out that from now on, the storyline drifts from the actual show’s plot. Characters will be a little different, since it’s more my interpretation of events and how they would react, but I’ll try my best to keep it all as consistent as possible.

WARNING: discussion of same-sex relationship in a sort of dated way, kinda? Like, the chapter takes place in 2006. Doesn’t reflect my feelings at all, just so you know.

January, 2006.

After you had spent you holiday season alone, mostly watching reruns of Frasier or making out with strangers at Poor Richard's on New Year's Eve, with Pam and Jim both disappearing off to see family back home, you were glad to be back in the office. You were glad to be back at your desk, with your friends, even if everything was different now.

Even if Jim was in love with Pam, and you were actively helping him achieve his goal of telling her how he feels.

Not to break Roy and Pam up, you reminded yourself as you walked into the office on Wednesday, wearing the same clothes as the day before. You sat down at your desk, and Dwight took a moment to, very loudly, sniff the air between you both.

"You've been smoking again... And you had sex with someone." He stated rather loudly, and you held your head in your hands.

"On a work night Y/N? Tut, tut." Jim teased, and you rolled your eyes, logging onto your computer. "I thought you stopped smoking the year I got here?"

"Who was the lucky guy?" Pam asked over Jim's afterthought, and you looked over at her.

"Like I would kiss and tell..."

"Oh no, Y/N don't tell me he works in the building." Pam looked dead serious, and you let out a laugh.

"They do not... and it was a one time... Three time, thing Pam. No chance I'm getting back into a relationship any time soon." You assured her, and your hand ran absentmindedly over your side, the bruises Brian had caused finally healed.

"What, because some unemployed twerp ended things with you?" Dwight scoffed, and Jim's head snapped to face his other desk mate.

"Shut it, Dwight." He warned, and Dwight looked between the three of you.

"I don't think you should be allowed to keep secrets in the workplace." He folded his arms, and you glanced over your computer.

"The people who need to know, know, Dwight. You are not someone who needs details on my love or sex life." You said with a shrug, dialling your first number of the day as an email popped up on your screen.

Dunder Mifflin Retreat Announcement Today!!! 11 am. - M. Dawg.

Michael has been hinting at the retreat for a week or so, asking people to pack the most bizarre array of items that it made Jim, Pam and you all laugh out loud when you all read it together at lunch last week.

"Hi there, this is Y/N from Dunder Mifflin. I was wondering if I could talk to you today about you existing order with us? Perfect!" You spoke on the phone, and began your day of sales. Your day had been so productive that by eleven, you had eight closed sales, and you walked into the conference room with a grin on your face and and skip in your step.

"Doesn't someone look happy all of a sudden? What happened to hangover fighting, walk of shame looking Y/N from this morning?" Jim teased you as you entered the conference room, sitting yourself down beside him. Pam sat up the back with Roy and the warehouse guys.

"I, Mr Halpert, have made eight sales this morning alone. I honestly think today might be the day to beat your record." You said, the twinkle in your eyes causing Jim to sit up straight.

"I'd like to see you try." He said, cocky in tone. Jim was the best sales person on the floor, and his record for sales in a day was 17, with the average sale being around $500 each. So, beating the goal meant not only did you need to get 17 plus sales, but make at least $8500 to beat the record. It wasn’t likely, but you liked to tease Jim when you could.

"Morning, my wonderful employees." Michael strolled into the room, taking a seat at the head of the table. A thin blonde woman followed him in, taking a seat at the table, and as she glanced around the room the pair of you locked eyes. Yours widened, you looked down quickly, and she flushed bright pink. Jim watched the whole thing as Michael tried to build up suspense, and after a few flicking glances between you and the woman that sat in front of him, he very slowly pieced it together.

"... Did you?" He mouthed, and you gave him a confused look. You glanced back over at her, and Jim nudged you again. In defeat, you nodded, and Jim's eyes widened.

"... Brenda here is from corporate, ready to hear me talk leadership but uh, first... The retreat this year is..." Michael drummed on the table. "A harbour cruise across Lake Wallenpaupack!" Michael announced, adding after a few beats. "A booze cruise."

"But it's January..." Stanley pointed out, and Michael slowly descended into his ramblings once more as Jim scribbled on a notepad, folding the note and addressing it Pam. Oscar handed it to Meredith to handed it to Kelly who handed it to Pam, who glanced over at you and Jim. She glanced down, unfolding it and crumbling it up the minute she read it, shocked.

"Y/N and Brenda?" She mouthed, and Jim nodded fast, and she started to laugh.

"What's so funny Pam?" Michael looked up, and Pam coughed.

"My bad Michael, keep going." Pam insisted, sending a wink your way as you put your head in your hands.

—

"So..." Jim sat in the chair, with Pam to one side and you on the other. He spoke with a stupid grin on his face, and he and Pam looked over at you expectantly. "Y/N seems to have made a little oopsie."

"In my defence, I didn't know who she was before I..." you started, groaning. The night before had been interesting to say the least. At least Jim and Pam seemed cool with it, you had never really discussed it before that point.

"What was that Y/N? Three times?" Pam giggled uncontrollably, and you looked straight at the camera.

"Please understand, despite the fact that I may be the only one in this office who got laid last night, I may never live this down... And can I just say, for the record, Brenda is very good looking."

"You slept with someone from corporate, Y/L/N." Jim teased, and Pam reached over prodding at your leg.

"What? Oh, how are we all feeling about the booze cruise?" You repeated the question asked, playfully swatting away the hands of your friends. "It's going to be an absolute disaster, and I ready for something, anything, to become a more pressing issue than my sex life."

—

Marching onto that boat on Friday night with the rest of your office would ultimately lead to one of the worst nights of your life, although you didn't know it yet. You went in with good intentions, and a warm jacket over the nice blouse you had chosen to match your jeans. Low heels, hair down, you looked nice, and it seemed like a few people noticed.

Well, Brenda noticed.

"You look good, Y/N." She said quietly, falling into step with you behind Roy and Pam... And Jim and Katy. Despite Jim's confession about Pam at Christmas, he still brought along his casual girlfriend, though you decided not to question his choices too much.

"Can we... Can we not do this here?" You asked quietly, and her face fell. "No, I mean..." you sighed, and led her quickly away from the rest of the team. "I've enjoyed last few nights, but I... It's not something I talk about at the office, and I mean... It was a hookup." You tried to explain, and Brenda just shook her head.

"No, I get it, I guess. Not exactly the thing you chat about with your colleagues, is it? Does anyone..."

"Jim figured it out, then Pam. They don't spread rumours though..." You assured, and she raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the camera.

"Do they?" She asked, and you looked towards the camera.

"Could you guys cut?" You asked politely, gesturing the sign as you spoke, and the crew disappeared inside to film Michael and the rest of the office, catching a final shot of you and Brenda in what looked like a much more heated discussion.

The inside of the ship was much rowdier, with drinking and party games having begun, with the aid of Captain Jack. Michael looked bummed out by the bar, nursing a glass of something unknown, Meredith was doing the limbo, and Jim sat with Pam, Roy and Katy at a table.

"You guys, it's like we're in high school and we're at the cool table." Katy said with a grin, and Roy laughed. Pam and Jim shared a glance, but said nothing. "Right?" She smiled, and Roy laughed out a soft 'yeah'. "Pam, were you a cheerleader?" Katy asked, and before she could answer, Roy stepped in.

"No, she was total little Miss Artsy Fartsy in high school. She wore the turtleneck and everything." Roy said through chuckles.

"That's hilarious!" Katy smiled, and Jim sat forward.

"It's not hilarious but-" Jim mumbled, making Pam smile a little before Roy took over the conversation.

"Where'd you go to school?" Roy asked Katy.

"Fisher Bohara."

"Piss la who cares-a? We played you." Roy looked over, shocked, and leaned forward a little. "You-you really look familiar... You cheered for them, didn't you?"

"Mm, no." Jim said, glancing over at Katy.

"Yes, I did!" She laughed, and clapped her hands together. "A-W-E. S-O-M-E. Awesome, awesome is what we are, we're the football superstars. A-W-E-" Jim glanced over at Pam, who shook her head along with Katy's chant, and just her smile blocked out the conversation their significant others were having.

Within twenty minutes, Katy and Daryl were cheering on Roy as he took a snorkel shot. Pam walked over from socialising with Phyllis and Stanley, beer in hand, and Roy turned round to her with a drunken smile.

"Come on Pammy! Come on!" He urged, offering her the snorkel, and she shook her head with a smile.

"No, I am not doing that." She said, Daryl quieting her with cheers as the tequila arrived. She leaned down to chat with her fiancé, who sat at the booth, looking flustered, and starting to cheer on Daryl. "Why don't we find a quieter place to hang out?" Pam suggested, and Roy looked over.

"You know what, I've just got to wait for Daryl to do his shot. Just a minute. Come on Daryl! Daryl!" Roy promised, but Pam sighed, and she scanned the room, making eye contact with Jim and he nodded, the pair grabbing their coats and heading upstairs to the top deck.

"It's getting kind of rowdy down there." Pam said as they got up onto the roof, pulling her jacket sleeves over her hands, the sharp January air sending a shiver down her spine.

"Yeah... Daryl, Daryl, Daryl." Jim chanted, the pair sharing a quiet laugh.

"Sometimes I just don't get Roy." Pam admitted, her back against the railing, arms folded over her chest. Jim gave her a look that just said 'well', and she shrugged. "I mean, I don't know..." They shared a smile, both understanding what was being said without needing it explained aloud. Pam bit her lip. "So, what's it like dating a cheerleader?" She asked, a playful tease.

"Oh, um." Jim said, and he stopped, not quite knowing what to follow that up with. His smile faded, and so did Pam's.

"I'm cold." Pam said after a few moments of silence, and Jim stayed still, exhaling through his nose and closing his eyes. He had blown it, he could have said something and he just... Didn't. Pam walked back inside, and Jim decided to wait a while more.

"I don't know what is so hard to understand here B! We had fun, but it was just fun." The voice caught Jim's attention, and he looked over the railing to see Y/N and Brenda below. He knew not to listen in, but as the camera crew came over and began filming, Jim continued to eavesdrop.

"You said you wanted more last night!" Brenda snapped back, pacing. Y/N let out a visible sigh.

"And I didn't mean it. Look Brenda, I just got out of a long term thing, I told you at the bar it didn't end great. I'm not ready for a new relationship." Y/N tried to defend herself. Brenda stumbled a little, and lifted a drink to her lips. It seemed the rather quiet corporate employee was a loud drunk.

"So you're not going to date me because some asshole slapped you once?" Brenda spat, and Y/N shook her head.

"I'm going to get you some water. You're clearly drunk and emotional and I am not going to talk about my abusive ex with someone too intoxicated to stand." Y/N said slowly, walking out of frame. The camera panned back to Jim, who took a moment.

"We should go find her..." Jim said quickly, rushing down the stairs to find you ordering a glass of water and three shots from the bar. "You alright? Water and vodka don't usually mix." Jim said with a nervous laugh, and you glanced over.

"Tonight has not been good Jim. No fun at all. I missed party games and time with you guys because of..." You took a shot. "I slept with them... three nights in a row. Now they think we're a couple and..." you sighed, making sure to not reveal Brenda's 'agenda' while surrounded by drunk men at the bar.

"I would tell you anything more than a one-night stand is a bad idea but you seem to know that already." Jim took one of the shots, tipping his head back and scrunching his face as he swallowed. "It all just sucks..."

"Yeah it does..." you responded, and the pair of you couldn't help but laugh a little.

"... boat is an analogy for the workplace. Like, if it was all sinking down, who would you save?" Michael a voice rose over others at the bar, where he stood with Roy and Captain Jack, the latter shaking his head as he turned to look at you and Jim.

"Ok, suppose your office building's on fire. Jim! Who would you save?" He asked, and you watch Jim's eyes immediately look over at Pam, still sat at his booth with Katy.

"Uh- the customer... Customer is King." Jim said with a smile, taking the third shot and downing it.

"Not what I was looking for, but a good thought." Michael said, drink in hand.

"He's just sucking up." Captain Jack responded, shaking his head. Roy threw an arm over his shoulder, slurring his words as he spoke.

"When you were in the Navy, did you ever almost die?" Roy asked, hiccuping afterwards, and the Captain nodded.

"Oh yeah, yeah." Jack said, and Jim gave you a nod before walking away. "And I wasn't thinking of no customer, I was thinking of my first wife, yeah. The day I got back on shore I married her." Roy nodded, and pushed off Jack, stumbling the way Jim went. You followed, pushing past Roy and stopping as you saw Jim turn to the camera.

"You know what? I would save the receptionist... I just, wanted to clear that up." He said, and with a nod to you, he headed over to talk to Pam.

"Hey everyobdy, um, could I have your attention for just a second? Would you listen to me for a second?" Roy was stood on stage, holding onto the microphone he spoke into for balance. "Um, we were up at the front, and we were talking about what's really important and, um... Pam, uh... I think enough is enough." He gulped, and your eyes went straight to Jim. "I think we should set a date for our wedding. How's June 10th?" Roy announced it, and Pam's face lit up at the exact moment Jim's fell.

Jim walked up onto the brig, finding Michael cuffed to the railing by zipties. In an attempt to give a motivational speech to the team, he had panicked the rest of the passengers, claiming the 'ship was sinking', and now, he stood in the cold. Jim sauntered over, resting on the railing and looking out, slipping on his gloves.

"What happened to you?" He asked, fixing his scarf next.

"Captain Jack has a problem with authority." Michael scoffed.

"Oh right, 'cause you announced that his ship was sinking?"

"Yeah! He just totally lost it. If you ask me, he caused the panic." Michael defended himself, and the pair just sighed, looking out over the black water.

"What a night." Jim said eventually.

"Well it was nice for you, your friend got engaged."

"She was always engaged."

"Roy said the first one didn't count." Michael said quickly, and Jim nodded his head.

"That's... Great." he said softly, his vision focused on a point in the dakrness. "To tell you the truth, I... Used to have a big thing for Pam." Jim admitted. Whether it was the drink, or the fact that when Michael wasn't acting like an asshole, he was actually cool, Jim didn't know. "So.."

"Really, you're kidding me." Michael looked mildly surprised. "Y-you and Pam? Wow... I would have never put you two together, you really hid it well. God!"

"What do you mean?" Jim asked, and Michael shook his head.

"Always thought you were more interested in Y/N... I usually have a radar for stuff like that." Michael shook his head, processing the information. "You know I made out with Jan-"

"Yeah, I know. I know..."

"Yep... Well, Pam is cute." Michael stated, and Jim felt a sad smile take hold of his expression.

"Yeah... She's really funny and- and she's warm and she's just... Anyway." Jim shook it off.

"Well, if you like her so much, uh, don't give up." Jim looked over at Michael in surprise.

"She's engaged." Jim reminded.

"Pfft... BFD! Engaged ain't married." Michael said with a raise of the eyebrows, and Jim exhaled with a smirk.

"Huh."

"Never, ever, ever give up." Michael's words stuck with Jim, and put a smile on his face. The camera panned, and watching from the shadows was Y/N.

You held a drink in your hands, regarding the interaction with a little smile. It wasn't often you saw Michael so himself, but you missed it. His bravado gone and his heart in the right place, Michael was a good person.

And as the ship docked that night, you got into a taxi and headed home, with no intention of hooking up with Brenda, and a little more hope in your soul.

Tags: @imsuperawkward

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nurseofren · 4 years

Text

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.�� One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #ao3 #st kyp

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cythieus · 3 years

Text

Any Port in a Storm Part I

Peach’s thin fingers leafed through the pages pinned to the clipboard, her eyes scanning the information in each blank and bubble. The lanyard, that she had gotten to fight her bad habit of losing pens, had actually ended up nudging her toward a new propensity to chew on them. She fought the instinct for now and at least she was always sure where the pens were.

She flipped to the front page, her vision tracing a path over the patient name and general information. Slipping the clipboard neatly into the slot at the footboard of the bed, she let the pen drop from her mouth to hang from her neck and dipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. The coat was such a shade of pink that it seemed it might have once been white and was just washed with something red by accident. She never replied to inquiries about whether its color was intended or not.

“Your charts are trending really well, Mr. Meeks,” Peach said. “The swelling has dropped off tremendously and you’re more alert than you were just a few hours ago.” She was sure to flash a smile, but she didn’t let it linger on her face for long. This visit wasn’t all good news.

Meeks replied with words too garbled to mean anything to anyone other than him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, letting Peach know the desperation behind whatever it was he was trying to get across. It was to be expected that speech would suffer given the severity of the stroke.

“I know that you’ve got a lot of questions,” she said. “I will be here to answer them as soon as things are a little better,” Peach said stepping around to the side of his bed. Her hand touched his forehead and she smoothed back the dark brown hair plastered to his skin.

“I’ll come around and check on you in a bit,” Peach said. It was best not to give exact times, the expectation might of her showing up might upset him and his mind was still foggy. There was no telling if he would be napping when she came back or if he would remember this conversation all that clearly. These first few days were bound to be a haze, but there could be some crucial developments too.

She waved curtly at him before turning to leave the room through the wide, mauve colored door. There was a sink in the center of this wing of the hospital, just across from the nurses station. She washed her hands in it, rolling up the sleeves of her coat to scrub halfway up to her elbows. A small group doctors and nurses passed, walking in a tight group and talking in hushed tones.

The whole world was hushed tones. It had been a sixteen hour shift so far and though there were times where she could take a short rest, most of her time had been spent on her feet. It would be several weeks before there were any relief either.

Absently, she dipped into the on-call room to grab a cup of water and just rest in one of the huge plush chairs. Peach didn’t know exactly when her eyes shut or for how long she was out. If someone had needed her they knew where to check on days like this. That was part of the problem.

“Peaches!”

Daisy’s excited scream was enough to rouse Peach, but not enough for her to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to be sleep Daisy would move on or was that bears…

“Wow, you smarmy bitch, I know you hear me,” Daisy said.

Peach could hear Daisy’s footsteps as she crossed the on-call room. The light from the hallway cut through her eye lids, causing a dull pain in the front of her forehead.

“The whole floor can hear you,” Peach said finally, shutting her eyes tighter against the light.

“Heard you were in here.” Daisy was standing right over her now, half-silhouetted by the light pouring in through the door. She wore a loud orange, yellow and white sundress with a frilly skirt and high heels. She always stood out against the beige and white tones that lined the halls of this hospital.

“Are you working today?” Peach asked.

Daisy cracked a little smile, her bronze skin had a luster to it even in the in the darkness of this room. “I’m always working, but no, I’m here seeing Luigi. I’ll be on the road for a bit with this new launch coming up, I might not get to see him for a while.”

“Do you need the room?” Asked Peach.

With a flick of her hand Daisy dismissed the question. “Nah,” she said before she folded her arms over her chest. “If we’re going to screw in this dreary place I’d rather do it in one of the empty rooms in the children’s wing.”

“You’re the worst,” Peach said.

“I know, but the little pictures of parading Goombas and Mushroom people they plaster on the sides of the beds make me smile,” Daisy said.

They had both gone through medical school together. Long before even that they were best friends, in fact Daisy they had known each other since before either of them could talk, but part of the way through their residency Daisy had chosen a different route in the industry: she was a sales rep for Gadd Pharmaceutical. It was her job to travel the region and teach hospital staff about new drugs or update them on treatment options afforded to them by drugs available to them.

Peach yawned, her arms and legs jerking out out so that she could stretch. There was no point trying to get Daisy to filter herself. “Have you found him yet?”

Daisy shook her head. “No, but I saw your little boy toy,” Daisy said giving the front of Peach’s chair a series of rapid kicks.

“Stop it,” Peach said, her fingers pressed against the sides of the bridge of her nose out of sheer frustration.

“He always asks about you and, like, he works in this place with you. How’s that going?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t fraternize like that here--” Peach said.

“—you’re definitely not fraternizing anyone and haven’t for a while. When was the last time you went out?” Daisy asked.

Peach sighed. “Half your job is taking people out and buttering them up,” she said. “It’s different in here.”

“You’re not only in here though, Peach. I might as well buy you a big crate of D-batteries and four weird cats so you can just settle down to be one of those old women who’s only source of sexual tension is the weird bag boy at the grocery store.”

“Hey, my life has sexual tension!” Okay, maybe that was too loud.

“There’s more sexual tension in nursery rhymes without people in them,” Daisy said. She crossed the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. Then she produced a small flask from a pocket hidden in the ruffles of her dress and poured a splash in with her coffee. “Talk to Mario. We can go on double dates.”

Daisy took a sip of coffee and then dumped the rest of the flask in. “We’ll be dating twins. Twins that are doctors. We could swap stories about them over mimosas and you can tell me if I’m right about Mario’s crank—“

“—Ew, Daisy no. I don’t—I don’t have time for those things right now.”

“Meow.” Daisy said after another, longer drink.

“What are you doing?”

“Meow,” Daisy said again. “I’m going to meow like a cat when you make excuses for not having a life. I’ll come to your apartment and just slap your stuff off shelves and pee in your shoes too until you get your personal life together.”

“You know I have other friends, right?”

“Sure you do.”

“Luigi and I get along well. And Doctor Bowser is a little, extra, but he seems nice and he always rushes any pathology results when I really need them.”

Daisy laughed. “I wonder why,” she said smiling as she tilted the cup up to her mouth again. “I notice that you’re not mentioning Mario in all of this.”

“Mario and I are…just fine. Why are you so concerned with all of this?” Asked Peach.

“You’re so happy,” Daisy said. “I mean I want you to be happy.” She took another big gulp of coffee. “But you’re happier every time I see you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I just loved work?” Asked Peach.

Daisy shrugged, her blue eyes fixated down on her cup. “It smells bad here, like all of the time and people…people die,” she whispered the last part.

A little chuckle escaped Peach, she was sure it was not out of crassness, but other than that couldn’t tell where it came from. “The work is very hard. Occasionally I lose a patient or I have a really bad day, but my day is never as bad as the ones these people and their families are going through. And more often than not I get to make sure their day gets better…and that they have more days at all.”

Daisy eyed her for a long enough time that she was able to take several more sips of coffee. “You’re hiding something. I’m just here to let you know Peaches, I’ve known you too long for you to outsmart me for long. Im going to go find my man, you want the rest of this?” Daisy held her coffee cup down to show Peach the bit of dark coffee sloshing around at the bottom.

Peach shook her head. “Can’t drink—I need to be alert; I could use some food. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten anything.”

“I’d love to grab lunch with you, but we’d have to—“

Peach cut her off. “—no, you’re here to see Luigi. I’ll be fine,” Peach said.

“Are you sure?” Asked Daisy as she tossed her cup and the remainder of the coffee and liquor mix into the trash.

With a little smirk plastered on her face, Peach nodded.

Daisy closed the gap between them and reached out to touch Peach’s forehead, her thumb brushing back the flyaway bangs that were too short to make it into Peach’s haphazard bun. Daisy swept a blonde tendril of hair back behind Peach’s ear. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” said Peach.

Daisy bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “See you later, love.”

She was careful to close the patient’s door before starting up, but the entire time Peach kept eye contact with Lemmy. He was one of the newer nurses in this part of the hospital, but he had worked in other places supposedly. She really didn’t know him that well, he hadn’t been around long enough. Peach knew she had to nip this in the bud.

“Why am I seeing that you held my patient down and started a Phenytoin drip?” Peach asked.

Lemmy was an odd looking man, even for a Koopa. He had rainbow colored, dyed hair and his eyes were a little crossed. His arms seemed too long for his body, like he had to bend them awkwardly when he scratched the back of his head. “It’s one of the most common anti-seizure medications.”

“Maybe sixty years ago. It’s never a first choice now and an IV is inadvisable due to the risk of cardiac or local toxicity.” Peach kept her tone even. She didn’t make it a habit of laying into nurses and other hospital staff, but this whole situation rubbed her the wrong way.

“I made the call I thought was best and look, the patient is getting better.”

“They’re getting better because you got lucky. We don’t hope for our luck to hold out in a place like this because when it doesn’t people die. We do our due diligence to make sure that we don’t end up staring down the barrel of a malpractice law suit or, worse, having to tell a family there’s nothing more we could do,” Peach said.

“No disrespect, but you’re being hysterical, Dr. Toadstool,” he said.

Peach brushed the hair out of her face and glanced around to see if the inevitable attention of nearby staff had found them. She pushed her lanyard and stethoscope aside to reveal her identification badge. “Can you read that word right there under my name?”

Lemmy glared down at the badge and then back up at her. He knew what it said before he read it, but had looked anyway. “Neurologist.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it said too, but I wanted to get your opinion since you’re such an expert.” Peach fumbled with the door charts. “Look, you’ve obviously been at this long enough that you feel you know better than everyone even though I spent more time doing my residency than you’ve been doing this job. Do what you want. And when someone has adverse effects I’ll treat them. When they code I’ll do my best to bring them back, but remember someone won’t always be there to pick up your slack.”

Peach tossed the clipboard back into the slot in the door and trotted off down the hallway, unsure of where she was going. She knew that others would be staring at her now, she had raised her voice just a tiny bit, but she had been here too long and there was no excuse for how that nurse was talking to her, especially not after that.

She thought it might be best to end her day here. Maybe this was the end of her rope; she had been burning the candle at both ends for some time now and the more exhausted she was the more dangerous it became for anyone placed in her care.

One of the break room doors was down the hall was open and she heard the sound of Daisy’s voice before she could even see what was going on inside. She didn’t feel like stopping, but she spotted Daisy and Luigi curled up on the couch together watching the TV, he must have been off. It wasn’t unusual for him to hang around the hospital when he was done.

Peach passed by, heading into the wing opposite her own. As she passed through a set of double doors and the cold air of the next hall washed over her she spotted a familiar face coming her way.

The mustached doctor and Luigi’s brother, Mario. He smiled as he noticed her, but stopped a little ways down the hall in front of the elevator. She strolled up to meet him. “Dr. Toadstool,” he said.

She gave a little nod of acknowledgment. “Dr. Mario.”

“Where are you headed?” He asked.

“Um, this elevator. I think I’m ending shift I’m on,” she said.

“Must be a Hell of a shift, weren’t you starting when I left yesterday?” Mario asked.

Peach chuckled. “It’s possible, my days are kind of blending together,” she said. Then she leaned down and pressed the button on the elevator. “One of us should probably press this.”

“You’re going up?” Mario asked.

Peach glanced up and down the hallway. “Yeah. I mean, you were. We’re having a conversation, so I’m going with you.”

“I mean we were but…” he trailed off. “Your drug rep buddy stopped by my office today.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry, she was mostly cordial.”

The silvery doors of the elevator opened and a soft robotic voice spoke. “Floor three, going up.”

Peach followed Mario into the elevator and when the door shut he asked. “Did you tell her about us?”

“No.”

“Really?” Mario grazed the side of her leg, just below her skirt and her skin went tight and hot. “Why not?” He asked.

She crouched down to his level, resting her back against the metallic elevator wall. Peach clenched his wrist, holding it up and pressed her body to his, their lips almost missing each others in the collision, and his hand trapped between them.

Peach grabbed his necktie, through the top of his coat to pull him closer. He groaned, the sound coming from somewhere in his throat or upper chest. His mustache scratched at her upper lip, but his mouth seemed softer than she remembered each time they did this.

The ride to the tenth floor and Mario’s office was never long enough for anything too exciting, but it still left her in a hazy stupor. When the doors opened the stumbled out of the elevator with hands linked, giggling like school children until they made it to the door of Mario’s private practice.

Mario struggled getting the key into the door and turning it, the lights in the office clicked on automatically when they stepped into the waiting room. The walls were lined with chairs except for the spots where a decorative plant or magazine rack was. Below some of the chairs were baskets with toys for the children. The area seemed much larger at night when no one was there.

“Mind if I take some time to wash my hands?” Peach asked.

Mario shook his head. “Course not.”

Peach slipped the coat down over her shoulders to reveal the plain white button down blouse she wore under it, she tossed the lab coat over a chair and headed for the restroom. Even before she started to wash her hands and the moment the door was closed behind her, the sink was running. The dark sacks of skin puffed up beneath her eyes in the mirror were the true sign that she had reached her limit for the day, she probably had some hours ago.

She rinsed her hands in the warm water, adding soap, and then rinsing them again. Peach splashed some of the water up into her face and dried it off with one of the beige paper towels from the automatic dispenser.

Her gaze met her reflection’s in the mirror. “Mario and I will get there soon, but today’s not the day. Best not to rush these things.” Every secret date and little meet up they managed, this was her mantra. Mario was going to be there, he wasn’t going anywhere and she didn’t see a reason to push things too fast with him. There was a lot of emotion tied up with that part of a relationship. It all seemed like a seriousness that she didn’t want at the moment.

For all of Daisy’s talk of Luigi, things were easier for her just by virtue of being a drug rep. She wasn’t chained to the same building as Luigi, constantly worrying about how every little interaction with him went. She had prep time!

Not that Daisy worried about anything like that—she seemed to drift through life on extremely fortunate luck.

With a small sigh, Peach undid the top button of her blouse and, using a paper towel, turned the knob to open the door. Mario had left the waiting room, but she knew where he would go. She made her way through the hall where his smaller examination rooms were until she reached his office. The first thing that she noticed every time she entered this room was the view, it was overlooking New Donk Medical Plaza, but in the distance was midtown and city hall sparkling like constellation.

Mario was perched on top of his desk with the dull purple of the city lights filtering through the window at his back. It was enough that Peach could make out his eyes, it was enough that she could see in his face what he wanted her to do. She pressed herself into the apex formed by Mario’s legs until the hollow sound made by her knees bumping the desk echoed through the room.

They both had to stifle their laughter, but it was that awkward kind of chortle that snowballed into a more infectious, out of control laugh. The electricity between them had been stretched so taut that Peach heard all of these sounds that weren’t there. At least them laughing covered that up.

The chuckling tapered off until they were standing there staring into each other’s eyes. Peach rested her hands on Mario’s legs, just above his knees. He lifted her chin, stroking the side of her face with his thumb and kissed her cheek. “Do we want to stay here or go somewhere else?”

“We just got here,” Peach said in a very small voice.

His lips brushed against her ear, his mustache ticking the side of her face and catching at the stray tendrils of hair. “But you didn’t eat today, did you?”

How did he know? “No,” Peach said out of breath. “It’s no big deal, I was going to pick something up on the way home.”

“We could pick something up together.” Mario pressed his face into the nape of her neck, sucking at the skin just where her shoulder began to curve up. He fumbled through heir hair, undoing the ribbon that held it up.

“We could.” Her body responded by curling to the side, resting her weight against Mario’s leg as she let out a little gasp.

“It wouldn’t take long.” The words were spoken against her neck, barely audible, but she vibrations of each syllable across her skin was like lightning. “We’ll just—“

Peach spun, locking her lips to his forcefully and pushing her tongue into his mouth. Their chins jabbed at each other as they rocked together against the desk. He groaned so low and so deep that it felt like it was coming from within her. She moved her fingers back through his dark hair, the bits at the front were damp from where he had probably splashed water in his face the way she did.

It didn’t occur to her that her eyes were shut for a while, that they had closed themselves out of habit and all of her senses seemed to meld in to cover the gap. She could smell the dying embers of his cologne, something strong and astringent with a citrus hint. There was a smell just peeking through that one, like an iceberg out of the ocean, it was the smell of clean sweat and just him. His mouth tasted slightly sour, in the natural way anyone’s probably did after being in this place all day. She didn’t mind because it was Mario.

“I had a really, really awful day,” Peach said, pushing her hand into his chest to separate them. Behind him, the sky outside the window had changed. It seemed cloudier, buzzing with a kind of static.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mario asked.

“Not really,” she said. “Come here.”

Across from the office from his desk, set against the wall was a small couch. Peach slipped out of her shoes before folding her legs onto the couch, so that she was sitting on them with her butt rested on her calves. Mario trailed behind sluggishly, pausing before the leather couch when she moved to pat the spot next to her.

“Are you sure?” Mario asked.

Peach leaned out, grabbing his hand and pulling it into her lap. “If you want me to be.”

“I want you to be sure for you—we had that talk before and—“

“And we decided that when the time was right we would know, but let’s be realistic: you want me, right?” She asked.

Mario’s eyes zigzagged along her body tracing a line from her toes, around the bend in her knee and all the way up to her face. “How could I say no, Peach, I—“

Her foot brushing the side of his leg stopped his words, his eyes widened and then Peach was unbuttoning her blouse, slowly revealing a flimsy pink tank top she wore underneath it. Mario watched, his heart beating so loud that she could hear it, could feel it where his hand rested in her lap.

Mario clambered up onto the couch and crawling over her, his hands sunk into the couch on either side of her waist. Her mouth rose to meet his helplessly and Mario’s lips responded by pushing her head against the arm rest, smashing her hair into a knot behind her head.

That little cautious voice in her head was in a veritable screaming panic, but the thundering of her heart and the soft moans drowned out any want she had to stop herself. Peach wasn’t above just going for it and this was a calculated risk.

A flash of light filled the room followed by the tremendous rumble of thunder. Peach caught Mario’s chest with both hands, her nails tracing little lines over his smooth skin. Around and between his nipples. “It would be dangerous for me to drive in this weather—I didn’t even bring an umbrella,” she lied. She always had an umbrella. Any reason to stay like this.

“I guess we’ll just have to stay here.” Peach rocked forward resting her butt on the leather sofa just in front of Mario’s crotch. Her hands trembled with anticipation causing her to fumble with his belt, managing to free the clasp from the puncture holes that held it after a few attempts.

Mario was rigid beneath his slacks, she could feel him when her arm brushed against the bulge beneath the fabric. He twitched sending a positively seismic shiver through her very being. Peach reached through the v-shaped crevice of his unfastened slacks and under the waist band of his boxers to grab his cock. He let out a stuttering sigh and arched his back, pumping against her grasp involuntarily. His skin was so warm and smooth and he glided through her palm.

Peach laughed, biting down softly on her lip and then glancing into Mario’s big blue eyes. “Is this okay?” She said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” he moaned.

“Yeah,” she repeated. “Are my hands too cold?”

Mario shook his head.

A dopey grin stretched over Peach’s face. She pulled his cock up over the waistband of his pants. He was engorged, the skin being stretched so taut had smoothed any wrinkles there might have normally been. It wasn’t like she was some kind of cock connoisseur most of her experience with them recently had been related to her work. Feeling one in this context without latex to separate skin from skin and with it heavy and erect was caused her to think things she’d usually gripe at Daisy about saying.

Peach looked down at it, running her thumb along the gentle, rounded rise of the crown of his cock at an excruciatingly sluggish pace. Mario nails raked at the leather couch when she finally reached the ventral side where a little divot that marked the beginning of the frenulum led her thumb up to the hole in his penis. Mario sucked on his teeth, wincing at the sensation.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Mario shook his head.

She thought the better of blowing him. It had been a long time and she was tired. Probably tired enough that she wasn’t thinking clearly, but more so she had been at the hospital over a dozen hours. If she went down on him and he felt compelled to do the same for her—no it was best to keep things simple.

Peach’s hand grazed his face, the stubby hairs dotting his face catch at her skin as she makes small circles around his chin. “So…”

He leaned in to press his lips to her neck. The air conditioner for the area of the building kicks in with a thunderous hum that seems to shake the sofa and drum through their bodies. Everything is so secluded, cut off. They’re in a building with hundreds, maybe thousands of people, but they’re alone.

The second that his fingers touch the inside of her thigh every rational part of Peach is gone. Even with all of the room afforded to them, they stay confined to the couch, fumbling to stay in contact, never not kissing for more than a few moments while trying to strip to the minimally required clothes.

He got her underwear down and she could feel the damp fabric move past her leg. Peach moved to mount him, straddling and pushing him back into the couch. Her pressed against his upper chest, almost in his face. Mario pushed his way inside of her slowly, rising up to meet her body halfway. Peach grunted, her eyes shut against the sensation, but she after a second she began to rock her hips against him.

There was a warm satisfaction in the way that they were grinding together. Why did she wait so long to do this? They rocked together on the couch while the lightning outside erupted into a full fit that lit the darkened room for full seconds at a time. Thunder undercut her soft moans, his desperate grunts.

Mario mouthed something against her ear, and though she couldn’t hear him just the brushing of his lips on her ear exhale her answer, a breathy, “yes.”

He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her down hard onto him as if trying to get every inch of himself to go into her. His breath caught and his teeth nipped at her ear. Peach felt the hot explosion inside as Mario came.

Peach clenched her thighs around him and turned her head against the back of the couch, biting at the leather to muffle her little moans. She hadn’t actually quite come, which was normal. She didn’t typically cum without a lot of lead up or something other than vaginal sex, at the very least.

But then it seemed Mario wasn’t done with her.

He moved from between her legs, leaning against the couch with his left arm and then tugged her upright with him and spinning her so that she was pressing her bare back into his chest. She let out a sharp yelp as his lips touched her neck.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Peach said, holding up a hand as if to steady herself.

Mario wrapped an arm around her thigh, bunching her skirt into knots between her legs and began press against the folds of skin between her legs. Peach’s body jerked forward when he brushed the fabric against her clit. Air caught in her throat as she went to make a sound but was cut short by the surprising intensity of the sensations. He mimicked the motion that had gotten the reaction out of her, massaging with a little more pressure now and pushing the cloth of her skirt against the sensitive area.

He steadied her with his other hand, pulling her back to his chest and cupping her breast.

She tried to encourage what was happening, but the only word she could get out was his name. Something warm and wet and slow dripped down the inside of her thigh. In the kind of brief moment of clarity that can only be recognized in distant hindsight, she thought about what had happened: I let him cum inside me?

That was her last true bit of her self-awareness before Mario’s fingers, wrapped in the textured fabric of her skirt, caused her to melt into him. She was reduced to a moaning mess of jerky hip rocking mixed with sharp yelps.

Despite the embarrassingly small size of the styrofoam cup, Peach still held it with both hands as she swiveled it beneath her nose to take in the aroma. Mario definitely bought better coffee than they had back on her floor. She could tell by the heat against her cheeks that it was still much too hot to drink.

She stared out over the misty morning skyline of New Donk through the huge window in Mario’s office. They slept, naked and bundled up in their discarded clothes on the old leather across from his desk. The blinds had been up and the sun’s light burned across the room into their eyes at its very first chance. What was she thinking? In all her years she had never had sex with anyone from work, especially not at work.

Actually, she hadn’t had sex since she worked here. The length of time since her last relationship slowly dawned on her. Still, things with Mario came so naturally. Through months of courtship leading up to this her heart continued to flutter when he first spoke to her. It had happened when they woke up together.

The door to the office opened and Peach spun around, frightened that they hadn’t locked it and it was some parent and their child coming early seeking medical help, but Mario stepped in with plastic grocery bag dangling from one hand.

“You got them?”

“Yeah. The lock on your locker is a little finicky,” he smiled. “And don’t worry, no one saw me.”

“I would only worry if Daisy was still snooping around,” Peach said before finally taking a drink of her coffee.

He handed her the bag and Peach placed her cup on his desk to open it. She stared down at the bottom to see the fresh pair of scrub pants folded neatly. “Thank you. Pretty sure my skirt can just go in the trash now,” Peach said moving to wrap one arm around him. “Um, sorry about your couch—it must be pretty old.”

“Are you kidding, it’s a leather couch in a pediatricians office, it’s seen some shit. I’ll get some leather wipes and it’ll be fine,” he said. “It was actually already here when I moved into the office.”

“Oh,” Peach said putting a shocked hand to her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have put my mouth on that…”

They both froze before bursting into boisterous laughter that last far too long for what wasn’t even meant to be funny.

“What did you decide to put back on?” Mario asked. “Are you just wearing the coat?”

“No,” Peach said pulling the lab coat open so he could see. “I’m just wearing the blouse beneath the coat and…yeah the coat.”

He hugged her around the waist. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are standing around in just a blouse and lab coat?”

“If you say so…” Peach giggled. “But…don’t start that now, you’ve got appointments—and—and a secretary coming in a half hour. How do you think Shokora will feel about me being in here with my naught bits all exposed?”

“So you have to go?” Mario asked.

“Yes. I need to nap and shower and try to salvage this skirt too.”

While Peach changed into the scrub pants and finished her coffee they chatted some more about mundane things. When it came time for her to go she was insistent that she walk alone.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay walking down to the car yourself?” Mario asked.

“Yes. I usually do it at night. Plus it would ignite rumors.”

He still walked her as far as the elevator, stopping to lean against the doors to hold them open, he checked both ways down the hall before leaning in to kiss her. “Goodbye, Doctor Toadstool.

“Bye, Doctor Mario,” she kissed him on the lips and he stepped back letting the doors close between them.

The moment she was out of sight, Peach jumped up and down with her hands balled into tight little fists at her sides. She wanted to scream or dance, maybe even while screaming, but the elevator dinged and came to a stop for an old woman in a wheel chair to roll in. She nodded at Peach, but said nothing on their ride to the sub level.

The parking garage was bustling with people, more than she was used to seeing. This wasn’t a time when she normally arrived at or left the hospital, which turned out to be lucky for her because most of these people wouldn’t really know her. She opened the back door of her car, throwing the bag of clothes she’d brought down onto the floorboards.

“Peaches!?”

Oh no.

“Peaches? I know goddamn well you hear me. Is that your cute ass in those awful scrubs?” Daisy rushed over and hugged her, pressing her against the side of the car roughly.

“Hey Daisy.” Peach folded her arms around her body to keep the lab coat closed.

“Hey to you too. Since when do you work in the mornings. I mean are you just getting here or…wait what’s that smell?”

“There’s a lot of cars around. It could be a gas or something, you should go tell the guard.”

“No, it smells like sweaty leather and sex,” Daisy said. She sniffed the air, leaning in close to Peach. Peach leaned back in return. “Why do you smell like you’ve been having sex?”

Peach tightened her arms around herself, averting her eyes from Daisy’s gaze, until the phrama-rep reached out and poked her in the sides, just below the ribcage. She used to do this all of the time when they were in school. It was a surefire way to tickle Peach quickly and make her loosen up. The moment Peach’s arms jerked away, Daisy threw open her lab coat and gasped.

“Same shirt, shitty old scrubs! You and Mario?” Daisy asked before twirling in a quick circle like an excited puppy. “You and Mario!”

“This is why I didn’t tell you things had been…progressing,” Peach said.

“That’s not fair. I tell you about all the weird shit I get up to,” Daisy said.

“Yeah, you tell me too much, honestly.”

“Well now you’re going to spill it. We are going for breakfast cocktails right now and you’re going to spill it,” Daisy said latching on to Peach’s arm and closing her car door.

“It’s like seven in the morning and I have to get home,” Peach protested. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Oh please, I’m one of the top sales reps in the country, I make my own hours. Now come on, I know a bar that makes a mean omelette.”

#alternate au #hospital au #super mario #mario bros #princess peach #princess daisy #daisy #peach #mario fandom #mario fan fiction #fan fiction #adult fanfiction #fanfic #mario #mario and luigi #luigi

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Fallout

You get pulled out of school with no details other than that your dad, Henry, has been in an accident on set.

“Eating extra Wheaties?” You asked your dad as you walked into the kitchen. He laughed a little, turning to look at you. You put your hand down to pet the dog, who had just finished eating his breakfast too.

“Helicopter scene today,” he answered. “I’m buzzing.” You laughed. You were a little nervous for it, and you expected that he was too. You also expected that he was hiding it. His contract for the film had basically turned him into Tom Cruise – he was doing every single stunt except for a halo drop. You tried not to worry because you knew they wouldn’t let him do it unless he was safe, and that they’d stop if he was at risk, but you couldn’t help it. You had already lost your mother when you were a little kid, and the last thing you wanted was to lose your dad, too. But you pretended you were fine with it because his face always lit up like a little kid and he was always excited when he thought about it.

“Refill?” You took his coffee mug and went to put it in a travel mug for him.

“Do you want a ride to school?” You shook your head.

“No, I’m walking over with Mary.” Your best friend, Mary, lived in a house two streets over. You were incredibly grateful that your dad was actually filming at home for a few days. You were treasuring the last few days you had with your friends before your dad whisked you off to Paris and New Zealand. You were excited to travel, of course, and you liked completing your assignments and your reading on your own time, but you’d miss your friends. You were old enough for him to take you, though, and you wanted to go, so he let you go.

“Alright. I’ll see you for dinner then. Pasta?” He asked expectantly.

“Pasta.” You had been making dinner the last few nights, which meant whatever you could boil and put on a stove. You handed your dad his travel mug and he walked over to you, kissing the top of your head, patting the dog’s head, and then leaving.

“Love you!” He called as he finally left. You waited about ten minutes before Mary walked over and the two of you started walking over to the school. You tried not to worry about your dad, but you couldn’t help it. You were worried about your big goofball of a father, even if he was big and strong and didn’t need anyone to take care of him. He’d done his own stunts before, but dangling out of a helicopter was a new one and it definitely wasn’t the same as the kind of stunts he’d done for U.N.C.L.E and the Superman films. This had the potential to get him actually hurt.

You tried to take your mind off it when you got to school, talking with a few of your friends outside of class before making the rounds to each teacher and telling them that you were heading out in a couple of days. You were halfway through the day, in English class, and your dad had texted you a funny selfie with Tom earlier that almost made your phone get taken away. He said he was getting ready to get into the helicopter. Two hours ago. And you had a sick, sick feeling in your stomach.

You heard the beeping of a walkie talkie, a familiar sound. The Dean of the school was standing outside the classroom door and walked in, eyeing you. She knew you well from all of the excuses about class you gave her. The teacher stopped lecturing and looked at the Dean, who looked at you.

“Miss Cavill, if you could come outside with me. Bring all of your things.” Her voice was dry and didn’t give you any detail whatsoever about what might be happening. Your mind went to the worst thing, right away. Tears pricked your eyes and you thought about all of the reasons why he might not have texted you back.

“What’s going on?” You asked her as she walked you down to her office.

“All we were told is that your father was involved in an accident at work,” she said. “That’s all they said, other than what hospital he’s at.”

“Hospital?” You asked. The panic started setting in. What if he was really really hurt? What if he was permanently hurt? What if he couldn’t film again? Or what if his arm had gotten cut off or something by a helicopter blade? You felt so sick to your stomach that your vision was hazy by the time you got to the office.

“Yes. We’re able to excuse you for the rest of the day. Would you like for us to call you a cab to take you?”

“No,” you swallowed a heavy breath. “No, I can walk home and get the car. Thank you.” You tore out of the school and walked faster than you ever had in your life. You heard Kal barking, not expecting anyone in the driveway, and you grabbed the keys to the car off of the counter. You tried texting him, but no answer. His phone was probably still on set in his trailer, regardless of where he was. And you tried to obey all of the traffic rules when you drove, but you broke a few from stress. You were almost beeped at before you pulled into the parking garage, paying for the stupid indefinite amount of time parking, and walked in.

“I’m here to see my dad, he got in an accident at work,” you said to the woman at the front desk. You adjusted your backpack on your shoulder, realizing that everyone could probably hear your heart pounding and how out of breath you were. You were still in your school uniform, too.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Dead. Where’s my father?” The woman gave you a strange look. “His name is Henry Cavill. I don’t know when he was brought in, but…”

“He’s in surgery right now,” the woman said. “I’m sorry I can’t give you any more updates than that.”

“Do you know how long it’ll be? Or what it’s for?” She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, deary. If you’d like something to eat or drink there are machines around the corner. We’ll call you when he’s out.” You nodded and hoped that some tea would calm you down. While you were waiting for it to brew you took out your phone, making the calls to all of your uncles. Charlie was the closest one in proximity and the one you were closest to, since he was the youngest, and thankfully he answered your call on the first ring.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” He asked, slightly amused at the fact that you weren’t. His voice immediately helped to calm you down because it sounded so much like your father’s. You tried not to sound like you were crying, even though you were.

“Yeah, but the Dean pulled me out. She said Dad’s been in an accident and I’m at the hospital and all they said was that he’s in surgery and they won’t tell me how bad it is or what it is and I don’t know what to do.” You heard him sigh. You were trying not to cry but it was all piling up on you and you wondered what would happen if you never saw your dad again. If this was it. If he died in a stupid helicopter crash and you’d be alone forever.

“Where are you?”

“The University hospital.”

“Alright, I’m at work and it’ll be a couple of hours before I can get over the river. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay, lovey? Just try to calm down, we don’t need you admitted for a heart attack.” That made you laugh a little bit. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up and you were alone to call everyone else and let them know. Your grandparents were just as concerned as you were, but they knew no hospital was going to let everyone see him and they also knew that Charlie would take care of you.

You drank some tea and sat down, waiting. The woman felt bad for you, especially after you’d quipped back about your mother. You were one of the only people there actually waiting. The other section of the room had the people with broken bones and split lips and you prayed that it was just something stupid and minor and not anything big. And every minute you had to wait was another minute where your dad was probably hurting. You answered your uncles’ texts, all of them, and tried to give them the hope that you didn’t have. The rest of the school day passed and your friends finally texted you to see what was going on.

“Cavill?” The woman called, looking directly at you. You put your school book back in your backpack and walked up to her as quickly as you could, straining to see if she had written anything down.

“Yeah?” You asked her.

“Your father’s just gotten out of surgery. They’re setting him up in a room right now and you can go see him.”

“What happened?” You asked. “How bad is it?”

“I can’t tell you. The nurse in the room can, though, and she’ll be able to answer all of your questions.”

“My uncle’s coming, can you just tell him…?” You didn’t quite know what you were asking, but as soon as the woman uttered your father’s room number you took off. You ran up the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator, and blew past another nurse in the hallway. You found the room, 723, and walked in before even bracing yourself for what might have happened.

You were lucky. Your dad was awake. But his massive shoulder was wrapped up in bandages and in ice and you cringed. His face lit up when he saw you and he extended his other arm to pull you into a hug. You dropped your bag out of relief and ran over to him, hugging him tightly. He smelled sterile and you hated it. He’d changed clothes, too.

“Dad, I thought…” You didn’t know how to finish, so you didn’t.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he said back. The dam in your heart broke and you let out all of the worry you’d been feeling in one single sob. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” he repeated.

“I know, I…” You sniffled and pulled away from him, trying not to cry as you took his hand. “They pulled me out of school and they wouldn’t tell me what happened and the woman at the front desk wouldn’t either, they just said you were in surgery, and I thought something really really bad had happened and…” You sniffled again.

“It’s just my shoulder. Just tore a rotator cuff. I’m fine. I’m sorry I couldn’t call you, but they wanted to get me in surgery as soon as I got here.”

“I thought you fell out of a helicopter and died.” He chuckled.

“No, nothing like that. I barely even got to the helicopter.” He touched the headband you had in your hair, steadying it, and you relaxed a little. “I’m fine, love.”

“I called Charlie because I didn’t know how bad it was. He’s coming.” You smoothed your skirt as you sat down in the empty side of the bed, leaning your head into the shoulder that wasn’t damaged.

“You’d better tell your grandparents I’m not dead. I’m sure they’re already picking out flowers.” You laughed a little bit and took out your phone, deciding just to take a selfie with your dad and send it all in a group text.

“I really thought you were dead or something,” you admitted. “And I don’t know if I would know what to do. And it reminded me of when Mum…”

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” He held out his pinky for you to swear it with.

“You have to promise me you’ll be careful when you film. I don’t like the stunts already, but... I don’t want you to stop living your life but you scared me.” He gave you a little smile.

“I know. I will be. Just be glad they didn’t let me do the halo jump. Then I would definitely be in a big surgery right now.” You laughed just as Charlie walked into the room, about to slap his brother.

“I thought you had a severed limb or something!” Charlie exclaimed. Henry laughed at his brother, shaking his head.

“No, no, God no. I tore a rotator cuff and they put me in surgery as soon as I got here. I left my phone in the trailer, I suppose.” Charlie nodded.

“You really scared me.”

“He scared me too,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Do you know when they’re letting you out?” Charlie asked, sitting in one of the other chairs in the room.

“They said they want to monitor me for a few hours, but probably not the whole night.” Charlie nodded. “Y/n, love, do you want to stay here or go home with Charlie?”

“I wanna stay,” you said.

“I’ll go check on the dog for you and feed him and let him out. I can ride to set too and take the car if you want.” Your dad nodded, cocking his head toward the plastic bag full of his things, including the keys to his car. Charlie took the keys and said goodbye, leaving the two of them.

“Do you want anything?” You asked, standing up, wiping the tears off your face with a school sweater.

“I’d love a cup of peppermint tea?” You smiled.

“I’ll go get it.” You started walking out of the room and turned around. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Dad.” He smiled back at you.

“Yeah, me too.”

A/N: This was such a sweet request. I loved writing it!

Taglist - If you’d like to be added, let me know!: @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#henry cavill x daughter!reader #henry cavill fluff

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