#and I relayed this to the surgeon and he was like 'yeah i know.' not in a rude way just like 'yeah obviously i am aware i am good' energy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seriouslyhooked · 3 years

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The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?”

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?”

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will.

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.”

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes.

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston. Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan au #cs fic #cs #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs meet cute #captain swan meet cute #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #snowing fic #the best bad idea #the best bad idea 1 #cs doctors au #cs medical au #once upon a time

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sunflowerryvol6 · 3 years

Text

Pigments

Warnings : angst, mentions of blood

WC : 2k

Hey! so I've got all these angsty prompts anywho, hope you like this. This the first time I've had an OC, so let me know if you like that? This came together, quite quickly, so the edit might be a little choppy. Feedback and ideas are always welcome!

Masterlist

happy reading!

"Lovie! You can't be knocking things in your wake, gotta be a little more careful y'know?" He said.

Nylah froze. "I'm sorry, H. I guessed I misjudged the distance?" she nervously giggled.

"S'okay, you good? You don't sound all too convinced about that?"

"Nope. All good, I guess it was a little foggy, nothing too serious."

"Okay, if you say so." That response didn't convince him, though. Ever since the patio incident, he'd been keeping a close eye on you. He had a feeling she'd been hiding something. But he wasn't sure enough to call her out on it. He was waiting to see if she'd come to him first. Even if she was the stubborn one between the two, he would let it go for today, and no one wants to argue on the weekend, right?

He wishes he'd had that argument and taken one for the team because maybe then he could have avoided this phone call altogether. Or that's what he tells himself.

Nylah had taken a significant fall at work, slipped down the stairs and hurt her head, and they said she was bleeding. That's all he heard before he made a mad dash to his car to get to his fiance. His heart was racing; he couldn't piece any information together. He remembered to make a quick call to his mother; asked her to call Nylah's mum and meet him at the hospital. As far as any information went, Nylah was still unconscious, so that they wouldn't allow him in with her.

"Well, I'm her husband. You've got to let me stay with her. What if she wakes up and there's no one beside her? Please, let me go see her."

"I'm so sorry sir; She's getting her stitches now. You can wait outside the procedure room, and they'll let you in as soon as it's completed." the nurse says.

Amid this argument, Anne comes rushing through. "What's going on? have you been in to see her yet? have they given you any update?"

"No. we're waiting on them to finish stitching her up. After that the doctor will come and speak with us, I suppose. I don't know why I didn't pay more attention, maybe she was sick and didn't tell me? I mean, I should have noticed, right?" Harry was finding it hard to not tear up with anxiety.

"Harry, what's happened has happened. You just need to make sure she's okay now", and on that cue, the doctor walked in to greet them.

"Are you with Ms Jones?" The doctor asks

"Yeah, I'm her husband. Is she okay? How bad was the fall?"

"It's not too bad, but my concern is more to how she fell. Do you know if your wife has a history of fainting spells? or balance issues? could be one of the reasons she could have taken the tumble."

"None that I'm aware of. Nylah does have low blood sugar, but she is good at keeping that in check and, as far as I recall, she hasn't fainted from a low sugar spell in a few months. But why is that a concern? I mean, it could have just been that she tripped, right?"

"We're just trying cover our bases, Mr.-" He looks at Harry as if to ask your name

"Styles." He responds.

"Okay, well, Mr Styles, you may go keep your wife company now. The nurses will let us know when's she awake, and we can have a chat then."

"Thank you." and He turns to what he assumes Nylah's room is and walks in to see her still unconscious.

"Hey kid, I'm so happy to see you; gave us a proper scare. I'm going to be right here beside you when you wake up." He coos. Harry sits down beside her bed and reaches for her hand. He's too fidgety from anxiety to stop his knees from bobbing up and down. Still thinking about what the doctor said. Could it not have been a trip up? Could she have fainted, and no one was there to help her break the fall?

She was doing so well with keeping her sugar levels in check, and maybe she slipped up? All these questions were running amuck in his mind, and he couldn't make sense of it.

In his anxiety spiral, he had utterly missed that Nylah was coming to it. She was slowly peeking through her lids as if the lights were too much for her. Harry quickly stands up. "Baby! Are you okay? Does your head hurt? I'm going to call the nurse for you, okay?"

"Woah, slow down, H, I'm okay. Can you please ask them to dim the lights? It's too much for my head right now." She winces.

"Yes, let me call the nurse for you."

"hey! Did you press the call button? Good to see you're awake, Ms Jones."

"Yeah, she just about woke up. Could we please dim down the lights in here a bit? She's finding it a little difficult to open her eyes because of it."

"Okay, sure, let me inform the doctor, and I'll see about the lights."

"Thank you."

"So, what happened? Did you feel lightheaded? missed lunch or something?"

"Okay, so I mean, my vision has been getting kinda blurry of late? I don't know what that's about like I can't see things that might be in my surrounding that well." Harry looked like he wanted to cut her off but let her continue.

"Before you say anything, I didn't want to worry you, and I wasn't worried either until today. I thought I would take the stairs today, and they were white? And I couldn't place my feet. Because I couldn't tell them apart" She was tearing up.

"Hey, it's okay, we'll figure it out, okay? It's probably nothing. Don't worry about it. You're fine, and that's more than enough for now." Harry soothed her. But he really didn't know if it was going to be okay.

When the doctor came, they relayed the same information to him. he suggested getting some tests done to check her diabetes and vision. She's only 25, so it's highly unlikely it's anything major, or at least that's what they thought.

---

Everything will be okay, is what Nyah kept telling herself, but who was she kidding? She had been hiding the blurriness in her vision for quite some time now. Why didn't she want to get it checked and find out what's wrong with her? She can't tell you for the life of her.

On the other hand, Harry had always known, but he thought she would address it sooner or later. He'd noticed she'd totally missed the butter sitting right in front of them at breakfast, and he had to get it for her. She would often take a second to adjust to light early in the morning.

You can't really do anything if you're missing big and obvious things sitting right in front of you, right? But he was wrong, Nylah was stubborn as hell, and she wasn't going to admit herself that she needed help, so it was up to him to figure it out and advocate for her. Had he done this sooner, they wouldn't be in a position like this, right?

---

The white walls of this hospital felt like it was caving in on Nylah. She didn't want to be here, neither did she want to get tested, and she didn't know anything point. This nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away. Harry was trying to be as supportive but to be honest, he was scared shitless too, neither of them of any help to each other. So they sat, quietly taking the eerie atmosphere of the hospital, holding each other's hands, hoping that warmth would enough to get through this cold tunnel of uncertainty.

After a whole week of a myriad of tests, they were sitting in front of their eye surgeon, who just gave them the news. They call it retinitis pigmentosa, and there isn't a concrete treatment that's shown to work yet.

That's all she heard before Nylah stormed out of the office.

She couldn't sit and hear another word. When the doctor told her about how her children, children who weren't even born yet, would be carriers or sufferers of the same illness. How could she succumb to this fate?

Harry and she were to still get married. They were going to travel the world. They'd been saving up for it, right? And babies? Oh, her babies with Harry, would that even be possible right now? Would he even want to continue this engagement?

She was sitting on the stairs outside the hospital. Crying into her hands, she didn't know what the hell to do anymore. So she would do what she thought was the best for her and Harry.

Harry came running after her. "My! what's wrong? Please come back? The doctor wasn't even finished giving us options on what we could do about this. Petal, you've got to hear him out. Please. " He looks like he's about to cry too, wouldn't you? If you found out the love of your life wasn't going to be able to see anymore? That she would miss arguably the best years of your lives together? He couldn't break down in front of her, though. So he would be the calm, reassuring voice of reason for her right now. Breaking down is for later when she is resting.

Nylah wouldn't budge, so eventually, they drove back home. She jumped out of the car before he could even be done parking. She hadn't said a word throughout the ride, and he didn't know what was on her mind. So he parked the car and walked in.

He slowly approached their room, only to find her packing all her belongings. He was a little puzzled, "Ny, darling? What are you doing? why are you packing?"

She turns around to look at him. That's when he notices her red-rimmed eyes, pooling with tears. She walks over to the dresser, takes off her ring and places it on the table. It was as if she was saying; This is it, you know?

He finally placed what was going on. "Oh no. No. You're not doing that, this is stupid, you're ending our engagement over this? Absolutely not. Please, baby, you've calm down. There's a long way to go still, and we don't even know all our options yet."

"I am going blind, Harry. I won't be able to see your face when I kiss you anymore. I won't give you children that might not be addled with the same disease as me. Hear yourself when you make this commitment, Harry." and go. I'm to packing her stuff. She was furiously wiping tears away. How were you supposed to keep a straight face when the love of your life is not going to be a part of your life anymore.

"I do, I'm in it for the long haul, aren't I? We'll break our savings and go to all the places you want to go to. We'll make audio vlogs, we'll document everything that we encounter, for you to remember. I'll do anything!"

Harry was panicking now. He's desperately trying to get her attention, to get her to see that he'll bring her the moon if that's what she desires. But this silence was too much for him. He could'n;t keep up with her. She was just throwing things into her bag. Finally, it felt like he snapped back into his reality, and he rushed behind her to keep those items back into her part of the closet. Because he wasn't going to let her go that easily. She'd have to fight him for it.

As he was putting things back, she was putting more stuff into her suitcase, and it was this weird limbo of aggressively shoving things here and there.

"Stop putting things back! I have to leave. I'm not going to put you through this, I'm not waiting around for you to decide when you're done with me, when it gets too tiring, No. I'm not sticking around to witness us and our love going sour. " She's screaming now.

He doesn't bother replying to her. He knows she'll ride out this tantrum.

He's crying too, heaving heavy breaths. He doesn't know if this is enough. If just letting her be angry is enough. He's just quietly putting her clothes back. That's when he hears something shatter against the wall. He frantically looks up to see their dresser lamp broken into million pieces on the floor. She goes for the jug of water next and throws it at the wall with as much strength as possible. The cup goes next.

He's screaming at her to stop, but she can't hear anything over her wailing and things breaking. She grabbed a vase from their windowsill and broke that too, it's mad fury, and she's so angry she can't breathe.

She's snapped out of her reverie when she hears him shout in pain. She looks at him and sees that he's stepped on some broken glass, but that's not what he's shouting about; he's screaming to get her attention to make her see that she's, in fact, hurt herself.

The carpet has got blood all over it, and there's broken glass everywhere. He strides across the room to reach her, only for her knees to buckle and take both of them down, she sinks on the floor with loud sobs, and he can't bring himself to stop crying either.

He rocks her gently, and whispers "We'll be alright", over and over again.

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wazzupmrstark · 4 years

Text

breaking curfew [part eight] || th x reader

A/N: day idk of quarantine. time is meaningless.

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, prescription drugs, alcohol mention, anxiety mention

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter + CALM by 5sos

Word Count: 2.4k

Series Masterlist

You’ve only been x-rayed twice in your entire life- not counting regular trips to the dentist- before now. Once when you thought you broke your ankle, (but it was really just sprained) and another time when you had pneumonia. Still, neither of those times had been quite as intense as this. Maybe that was because your mom wasn’t with you like she had been before. Or maybe it was because Tom, the boy who was pretending to be your boyfriend, the one that had just undressed you minutes ago, was standing just a few feet away behind the glass. Or in all honesty, maybe it was because you were hopped up on codeine, but who could say?

The x-ray technician draped the lead apron over you and told you to hold your breath while she ran back to operate the machine. She had you lay in a few different positions and had a nurse help her move your arm gingerly each time to lessen the strain on your end.

It was a painful process, but they moved as fast as they could so that you were back in your room within a few minutes.

“How’re you feeling?” Tom asked as he sat back in the plastic chair by your bedside.

“Kinda dizzy.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t walk five steps without running into a wall, I practically had to carry you back here.”

“Fuck off!”

“Glad the pain meds haven’t completely altered your personality,” he said, shaking his head.

“I feel a little nauseous too,” you added and rolled your neck uncomfortably.

Tom sat up a little more, eyebrows raised in concern. “Are you going to throw up? Do I need to get someone?”

“It’s probably fine,” you shrugged.

“I don’t know about that... you took those meds on an empty stomach- and that’s probably why you’re smashed to hell too.”

“It’s fiiine, Tom.” You yawned. “I just wanna nap.”

He chuckled and pulled the sheet that had been gathered around your waist up to your shoulders and laid it gently over them.

“That seems like a good idea.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night, y/n.”

It felt like you blinked and you were being shaken awake again. You groaned and attempted to sit up on your elbows, cursing when you tried to put pressure on your injured arm.

“Easy, easy,” Tom said, helping you lay back down on your back. “Um, the doctor’s here, babe.”

“Babe?” you wondered aloud, still clearly disoriented as fuck.

“Yeah, love. He’s here to tell you about your arm.”

Tom was pretending to be your boyfriend. Right. That made a lot more sense. Why else would he call you babe?

The doctor introduced himself to you and Tom and talked briefly about what he was looking for in the x-rays as he set them up in the light display for you both to see.

“So the bad news is that your arm is broken,” he explained, and you felt your heart sink even though you knew it was coming. “But the good news is that it’s just a minor fracture- barely visible on your radius there. It’ll only take about four to six weeks to heal in a cast, and you’ll be good as new.”

You bit your bottom lip wilted visibly. “Six weeks? The summer will be over by then!”

“It shouldn’t be an issue, unless you’re involved in a super active sport or-”

“We’re camp counselors-” Tom said abruptly, irritation at the edge of his voice.

“Oh, yes well you might run into some complications, but you should still be able to do most everything. Even with a cast.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he nodded. “I’ll print out a couple pamphlets and some other literature for you on how to care for your arm and cast and etcetera, and you should be fine.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’ll also prescribe you some pain killers. Probably not as strong as the codeine they gave you earlier, but a lighter dosage for a few days before switching to extra-strength ibuprofen might help you get back into the swing of things.”

You just nodded, not really understanding any of the words he was saying. You hoped Tom absorbed more of it than you did because you were honestly checked the fuck out.

“I’m just going to grab the plaster and gauze for your cast and I’ll be right back. What’s your favorite color?”

“Orange,” you said without a second thought.

Tom waited until the doctor was gone before giving you a confused look. “Why’d you say that?”

You gave him the same look back. “What do you mean?”

“Orange isn’t your favorite color.”

“Says who?”

“Your favorite color’s always been green.”

“H-how’d you know that?”

“You really think I don’t remember you cheating your way onto the green team at mega relay every summer?”

“I would not cheat!” you argued.

“You’re supposed to pick a headband out of the box randomly! I don’t think peeking through your fingers and conveniently grabbing a green one every single time counts as random.”

“Well you don’t have any evidence, so good luck proving that in court.”

Tom held his hands up in surrender. “Damn, who said anything about court?”

“I just like being prepared.”

“But wait, why did you get orange?”

You shook your head absentmindedly and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s Theo’s favorite color. I thought she’d like it.”

“That’s... really sweet.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Holland. I can be nice sometimes.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Before you could say anything snarky back the doctor came back in with a written prescription and everything he needed to set and wrap your arm. You tensed and looked away as he set to work on it, using an alcoholic wipe to sanitize your hand and forearm before wrapping it.

“You can hold her other hand if you want, Tom,” the doctor said, probably thinking that would reassure you, even though in reality it made you way more anxious.

You had reached for his hand just a few minutes ago, unprompted. But in your defense, you were very out of it. You were still out of it now, but the thought doing it again was ironically making your hands sweat. You guys didn’t really know each other... like that, and even though it was just pretend it felt weirdly intimate.You wouldn’t blame him if he stayed put where he was.

But to your surprise, Tom didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours. His palm was a little clammy too, which was a relief. You didn’t want to be the only one with a sweaty hand and gross him out or something, even if you were the one in agonizing pain.

You squeezed tight as your arm was moved into position for the cast. It hurt like a bitch and for a hot second the nausea returned and you thought you might pass out.

“So, how did you guys meet?” the doctor asked casually as he worked. “Tom, if I’m not mistaken you’re English? And y/n you’re not? How did that play out?”

“We met at work,” Tom said without missing a beat.

You were kind of taken aback by how seriously he was taking his role. It really didn’t matter if he was actually your boyfriend or not, it’s not like he’d get kicked out if they found out he wasn’t.

“At the summer camp?”

“Yeah, it’s really well-known for its international program. We get a lot of campers from all over.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Are you long distance during the year then?”

You and Tom traded looks with each other. Why did you have to get stuck with the chattiest orthopedic surgeon ever? Your fucking luck.

“We are, yeah.” Tom answered for you both again. “We trade off who visits who. We’ve both been in school so we don’t get to see each other very often, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Summers must be nice then, no? You get to see each other all the time.”

He forced a chuckle. “You have no idea.”

The girls practically tackled you the second you got back to camp, and you were immediately bombarded with a chorus of “can I sign it? can I sign it?” from every single one of them.

“You can all sign it!” you promised. “After you brush your teeth!”

You had never seen them so excited to get ready for bed ever. They were almost giddy about it.

Your arm was still pretty sore, and the pills were starting to wear off, but you were glad to finally be back in your cabin. You couldn’t wait to knock the heck out and sleep for as long as possible.

The ride back from the emergency room had been much more peaceful than the ride there. Zendaya was a little pissed you’d disappeared from the waiting room without a word, she was mostly just glad you were getting to go home and rest. You ate your fries and chicken nuggets in the car, and accidentally ended up dozing off on Tom a few times, only to be jostled awake by bumps in the road.

And now that the day was winding down you could relax and spend some time with your campers.

“Me first!” Theo exclaimed, racing up to you with toothpaste still in her mouth. You laughed as she scribbled her name in jagged letters across your arm, putting a smiley face in the O. “We have the same favorite color!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her so you just laughed and nodded. “Now, go spit your toothpaste out before you choke!”

May was next. She signed her name right where your pinky was, almost as if she was trying to hide it. Amalia wrote her name in cursive just above your elbow, Grace signed her name with a heart at the end right next to Amalia’s, and Eva scrawled hers on top of your hand at the edge of your cast.

You admired the girls’ masterpiece and showed it off to them. “What do you guys think?”

“It’s cool!” Amalia said, and the other girls added their agreements. “I’ve always wanted a cast!”

“Me too!” Grace chimed in. “Or crutches!”

“I think it’ll definitely make me stand out,” you said as you sat on the floor and settled against one of the bunks for your girls’ daily Good Night Circle.

“Maybe it’ll help you get a boyfriend!” Theo piped up, now wearing her big metal retainers.

“Or a girlfriend?” Evangeline pointed out very matter-of-factly.

The others were quick to jump on board.

“Maybe one of the other counselors will see it and fall in love with you!”

“Do you want a boyfriend or a girlfriend?”

“We could help you!”

“Yeah! My dad says I’m a really good matchmaker!”

“You girls are silly!” you said, sighing in exasperation. “I think it’s time for bed.”

There was less resistance than usual- maybe they were taking pity on you because you were broken- but there were still the typical whines and protests as you tucked them in.

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” you said in a singsong voice as turned off the lights and climbed into your own bed.

And you finally.... laid there staring at the ceiling. For hours. Despite being completely drained in every sense of the word, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing and you couldn’t get comfortable with your arm bent at a weird angle. And were you remembering everything that had happened that day wrong- or had Tom actually helped you get undressed? And then get dressed? Had he really held your hand? Twice?

You wiggled your fingers as if the movement would replicate the feeling of his hand in yours, or give you an answer of some kind, but of course there was nothing. Just that same emptiness you felt in the pit of your stomach.

Realistically, you knew all of those things really had happened, and even if you couldn’t remember the specifics, you remembered the little things. Like the pink tint that highlighted Tom’s cheeks when he edged the straps of your swimsuit down your shoulders, or the rough calluses that had tickled your palms when you held hands with him. They reminded you that it wasn’t all some weird dream... or nightmare, rather.

You pushed your covers off, suddenly feeling very hot. You sat upright and took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, trying to force all the thoughts from your mind. Thinking about Tom in a positive manner was one of, if not the number one way your brain could betray you. Even barely brushing the subject had you breaking out into a cold sweat. The boy was really living rent free in your mind and not in a good way.

Everything felt wrong, and not for the first time this summer you wished you could pour yourself a drink. Maybe it wouldn’t help with any of your problems, but it sure would take the edge off.

Even though it was futile, you flopped back on your bed in the hope that sleep would have mercy on you and finally let you rest. You shut your eyes and tried a few of the meditation methods you’d learned from YouTube to make yourself sleepy, but even then you couldn’t shake the low buzz of anxiety that nudged at the back of your mind.

Fucking Tom Holland.

If you weren’t going to get any sleep you might as well waste time on your phone. You unlocked it, fought the urge to google ‘can you pass out if you punch yourself hard enough,’ and opened Twitter instead. You didn’t need to show up to breakfast with a black eye and a broken arm tomorrow morning.

Your eyelids were finally starting to feel heavy and the screen on your phone was getting dimmer and dimmer as you began to drift off when sudden knocking at your window startled you out of your half-asleep state.

The first thought you had was that someone was trying to break in, but then you remembered that you were at a summer camp and there was literally nothing valuable in the cabin so you let yourself relax a little bit.

When you squinted a bit, you recognized the figure on the other side of the glass and flicked them off with your casted hand, even though you were fairly sure they couldn’t see you sitting there in the dark. It was confirmed when they knocked again and you had to scramble to push open the window so they wouldn’t wake your campers- at this God-forsaken hour.

“What the fuck do you want?”

this one was tricky to get figure out but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#breaking curfew #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland series #tom holland imagine #tom holland enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers

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whumpiary · 4 years

Text

whumptober 2020 | day 1: let’s hang out sometime

[content warning: discussed past self harm, referenced past abuse, mild dissociation/depersonalisation, intimate whumper]

There's something harrowing — gut-wrenching — about seeing a grown man cry. It's almost painful. Just watching someone with utter poise and dignity let it slide and crash because they don't care anymore who sees them crumble.

It's enough to make the one watching crumble a little, too. Just a little. It doesn't even matter what it is that they're crying over. A loved one in a hospital bed. A job that came to an end too quickly. A lost pet. Some spilled milk.

A boy strung up in the middle of their parlour, hands high above his head, barely standing where he's chained.

Christopher sobs silently, one hand clamped over his mouth as the other grips the edge of the desk he’s leaning against like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. He had started tearing up as soon as he’d started taking away Cass’ clothing: a soft little gasp as he caught sight of the first scar, and then growing grief as more skin was exposed.

The first sob took the man over as the last scrap of clothing fell away and he’s been braced against the desk since. Shoulders softly shaking, eyes squeezed shut. As though he can barely stand to look at the boy in front of him without being overcome.

Cassius is cold. He registers it dimly. Distantly. This body, right now, isn’t his own. His senses seem to know that, relaying everything from a distance. Like hearing the radio from someone else’s car. Like watching the TV in the reflection of a window.

The cuffs around his wrists cut in and his calves are starting to burn and his lungs ache from breathing against stretched out ribs and he also doesn’t care about any of it. He’s back here again. A whole new cycle that he always knew, not so far below the surface. And every scar across his body is a road map of a world that Cass already feels like he never escaped to to begin with.

Christopher brings his hand to Cassius’ cheek and as though on muscle memory, Cass leans into it.

“My darling boy,” the older man whispers. His eyes are tear-filled still, searching Cass’ own desperately, as though for some sort of answer. Cass has none. “My darling, darling boy. What have they done to you?”

Cass holds Christopher’s gaze and for a moment wants to share with the man the entire history of the last few years. Every secret. Every truth. Give them up. Give them over. Undo. But he feels muzzled. Gagged. Like his lips are sewn shut.

There’s nothing to say. There’s everything to tell.

“I’m so sorry, Cassius,” Christopher says. His hand skirts over the scar near his shoulder, the one down his arm, the one at his ribs. Like a fucked up dot to dot. “I’m so sorry. If I had known… My god, darling boy, if I had known…”

Cass nearly laughs at that. He would have what? Bought the company just to win his contract back? Stolen him away? Killed Tucker with his bare hands? Or would he have shaken the man’s hand and given him a bonus? Asked to sit in for the next blood letting?

Christopher starts with the obvious.

“This one,” he says, pads of his fingers tracing the gnarled, raised scar along Cassius’ ribs. “Tell me about this one.”

“Got stabbed,” Cass mumbles. His mouth feels full of cotton wool. “Job went wrong. About a year in. Maybe later. Can't remember. Had to have surgery.”

Christopher sucks in a breath, deep and shuddering, covering his mouth on the exhale as another silent tear slides down his cheek. He brushes his cheek dry again with his knuckles and takes another breath to calm himself, lowering his head. For a moment, his hand sits heavy on Cassius’ hip, as though he needed it to steady himself. Cass rocks back on the balls of his feet just barely and the man’s grip seems to tighten in kind, keeping him still and close.

They stay just like that for a moment until Christopher manages to collect himself, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose, drying his eyes with a sniff. He drops his hand from his face to trace the scar again, breath stuttering. Cass feels seasick with the the touch. A dragging back of forth over scar-tissue he can’t quite feel properly.

“The scarring is terrible,” Christopher says.

Cass closes his eyes for a moment. If he imagines enough, the cool, dry hands are warm and steady instead. They’re firm and sure instead of claiming and caressing. They’re pulling him back together, stitch by stitch. The memory is such a sacred indulgence, he has to shake his head a little to clear it again.

“Yeah, they... fucked the stitches,” he says, voice croaked. “Had to get it redone.”

Another shaking breath. Another sniff. Cass keeps his eyes lowered. He doesn’t need to see the grief.

“Well that surgeon deserves to be fired.”

They go on like that. Christopher touching each scar, having him name and catalogue them, one after the other.

The thin one over his bottom lip. “Bar fight.”

The short thick one at his collarbone. “Lab test.”

The nick up by his brow. “Beat down.”

The curving long one down his arm. “Don’t remember.”

There are a few like that. More than he’d have expected. The burn on his arm. The glossy skin on his knuckles. The twisted one at his knee. Don’t remember. Don’t remember. Don’t remember.

And Christopher in between, mourning each one. Touching them, pressing his hand to them as though he could will the scars healed with his grief. Christopher has to keeping taking breaks for more tears and sobs. Like over, and over again he’s realising what he’s lost. Of what he once had. What he’ll never have back.

“My God, what have they done to you, darling boy?” He whispers it over and over again and over again. “You were so beautiful. So perfect. What have they done to you? What have they done?”

It takes them a while to retrace every new mark on him since Christopher has seen him last. The man is methodical and thorough. Scrupulous. Cass is almost startled by how many he finds. More than Cass would’ve discovered on his own, he’s sure. By the time they get to the last few, Cass can’t feel his hands.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I know you’re tired,” Christopher says with a kiss to the cheek, a hand cupping his jaw. His eyes are filled with sympathy and apology. As though he isn’t the one who’s doing this. As though this is some necessary procedure instead of his own predilection. “We’re nearly done. Last ones.”

Christopher holds Cassius’ gaze as his hand drifts low, skirting a decent gathering of little scars at his hip, over his thigh. They’re smaller, these ones. Harder to see. Only a shade or so lighter than his skin these days but piece by piece, bit by bit, they stack up, start to look noticeable. Little fine nicks and cross hatches, some raised, some flat, all faded.

“These ones here. The lab again?”

Cass drops his eyes. He stares at them for a beat, stares at what he can see beneath the man’s hand anyway, before looking back to Christopher.

“No,” he says. He feels a thrill to say it. “Me.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Excuse me?”

“I did those ones myself.”

A beat. “I thought we broke you of that little habit.”

And they had. For a while. – You’ll be hurt on my terms or not at all. – But Christopher should’ve known it would be one of the first things to resurface once he was out of reach. Why shouldn’t it be?

Cass smiles at the older man, eyes dead. “If it helps, I thought of you every fucking time.”

Which isn’t true entirely but shit does it feel good to say it.

The slap that flies hard and brutal across his cheek feels good too.

“Don’t you do that to me,” Christopher says, after a moment. His voice is soft and quiet and sad. Shaking with what was maybe a little anger. Funny. It was rare to see Christopher show that card. “I’m hurting badly enough today, I don’t need your cruelty on top of it.”

Cass keeps his head turned, staring at the arm of the leather rancher’s sofa beside him. His cheek burns, hot and tingling with the blood rush, as Christopher’s hand trails up and to his shoulder. As the man steps behind him, both palms pressing at his shoulder blades. At his back.

“And these?” he says. Cass’ eyes shutter closed, breath all at once catching high in his chest. Christopher’s been saving these, he knows. The crosses and lines on his back. One after the other after the other after the other.

Cass can’t answer to these. He can’t say. Can’t bear to. And, by some virtue of generosity, by some kind of twisted, fucked up grace, Christopher doesn’t make him. “He gave these to you?”

It takes him another minute. A long, hard minute of trying to breathe. Christopher allows him the mercy of the hesitation. And then, shakily, he nods his head.

Christopher sucks in a shaky breath as his palm presses to the scarring and Cass can tell he’s crying all over again. The sob shakes down Christopher’s arm, into his hand and hits like a jolt of electricity through Cass’ spine. It feels like it shakes his

“My God. This is cruelty. This is… this is cruelty.”

And Cass could laugh at that. He really could. After everything, everything this man has done. After everything he’s put his head through and his heart through and his body. This is cruelty, is it? Finally, this is cruelty.

Nah, it’s not cruelty. He wants to say. Penance.

He’s glad the words don’t actually make it past his lips.

Christopher’s hand runs across them over and over, again and again, and the feeling is so strange, so tender, so violating that Cass finds himself pressing his face against his arm and screwing his eyes shut, as though to hide. Skin then scar then skin then scar. Numbed then felt. Hot then cold.

Every trace of the crosses feel like he’s being stripped bare. As though with every caress, Christopher is peeling away a layer of numbness, a layer of armour, an exoskeleton. The world is like a burning thing without it all.

Cass hangs his head, arms still stretched up and aching, and he sobs, voice pulling out of him in a broken whisper. “Please stop.”

The plea seems to bring Christopher to the surface of whatever grief laden fascination he’s lost in and the man circles in front of him, hand cupping his cheek, thumb catching the tear that slides down it. Christopher’s tears mirror Cassius’ own as the man presses their foreheads together and Cass is sure they look a lovely picture of grief.

Shared martyrdom. Saint and saviour.

Maybe the man should have crucified him instead.

“I’m so sorry, Cassius,” Christopher whispers again, and Cass cringes and cries and keeps his eyes shut. “If I had known… I promise you, if I had known…”

It’s a mercy beyond measure that the man never finishes the sentence.

#whumptober2020 #no.1 #let's hang out sometime #oc #fic #self harm tw #dissociation tw #referenced abuse tw #cassius #christopher #return to whumper #possessive whumper #intimate whumper #nell does whumptober

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gospelofme · 3 years

Text

Code 30

Warnings: violence, blood, drama

Kix x female reader

Part 7

“Mr. Holtz?” A woman called out, Kix startling awake. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but he didn’t feel rested one bit. He got up and handed his sleeping daughter off to her grandparents. Jesse had snuggled up to his grandfather, who also took Kaia. He felt like he was going to be sick again, but took a deep breath. His heart pounded in his chest painfully, his fist tightened on your wedding ring set that he hadn’t released.

“How is she?” He asked quietly, his voice not sounding his own.

“Stable. We intubated her and she’s on a ventilator with oxygen. We’ve stopped the bleeding, the surgeon is now repairing her lung.” The nurse replied. Kix nodded, letting out a small sigh.

“I do have a few questions for you though.” The nurse said apologetically, taking a datapad from her pocket. Kix recognized the form displayed on it.

“You said she was stable.” He whispered, blocking his family from seeing the datapad.

“She’s stable for now, but not out of the woods.” The nurse explained. Kix made a face but nodded.

“Give me a second.” He said, walking over to his in-laws. He knelt down in front of them, his father-in-law being awake.

“She’s stable but they’re still working on her. The nurse just has a few questions for me. I’ll be right back.” He whispered so as not to wake his kids or mother-in-law.

The nurse led him to an empty exam room. He dropped down into a chair, she sat on a stool in front of him.

“Ok, so first question. Does she have a Will?”

“Yes.”

“Does she have any stipulations in it regarding resuscitation orders? A DNR?”

Kix felt sick again. He nodded. He wanted to shake his head and say they were to do whatever it takes to keep his wife alive. But that’s not what she had wanted. It was the main reason why he knew he could never be the one to attend to his wife if she were ever in this state again. He could never and would never make that call. The one that he knew she’d want him to accept after the allowed attempts had run out.

“We talked about this when we found out she was pregnant with my son.” He remembered.

“Um, she said she only wanted 5 attempts at CPR and only 3 with a defibrillator.” He said, his throat constricting. The nurse nodded solemnly.

“How many have you already done?” Kix asked, his voice barely auditable. The nurse didn’t reply.

“I will find out from someone. I work here.” Kix informed her bluntly. He had kept his gaze on his clasped hands until now. Now he gave the nurse in front of him a threatening look.

“According to Commander Thorn’s report, he had to perform Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation once on the way here. We’ve had to do it twice on the table. So 3 times total for CPR.” The nurse said. After a beat she added, “but we’ve gotten her going on a blood transfusion. That and the added oxygen supply should help avoid any further cardiac arrests.” Kix got the impression the nurse was trying to be hopeful. He appreciated that.

“Sir, I just need you to sign here and initial here and here.” She said, handing him the datapad. Kix looked over the form and realized that by signing and initialing, he’d be giving the doctors and nursing staff to stop any lifesaving measures once the limit had been reached. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hoped that this morning wasn’t the last time he’d see wake up next to you.

He handed the datapad back, signed and initialed like you would’ve wanted.

He washed your wedding ring set off in the sink in the exam room. The nurse had left him alone to go inform the surgeon of his permission. He scrubbed any and all bits of blood from it. He then needed a place to put it, he didn’t want to risk dropping it. He suddenly decided to try his fingers. The set only managed to fit on his left pinky finger. He’d need soap to get it off when it was time to return it to you. He looked at his own ring, tattooed onto his ring finger. He rubbed the inked skin with the thumb of his right hand and left the exam room.

Danvers was leaning up against the opposite wall. He looked disheveled and tired. His clothing was still bloody...your blood. As Danvers apprehensively walked towards him, Kix could see tiny specks of blood on his shirt where you had coughed.

“Hey, ummm Kix right?” Danvers asked, not being able to meet Kix’s eye. He had known your husband was a clone soldier, but he’d never actually met him until now. What a way to meet someone’s husband, he though.

“Yeah, you’re?”

“Detective Vince Danvers. I’m the one who asked your wife to help me...” Kix gave a single nod. Danvers shoved his hands into his pants pockets and nervously swayed.

“Listen, I’m really really sorry. I should never have asked her. If...I should’ve just waited for my partner.” Danvers said, his voice shaking.

“It’s not your fault. She’d call this a ‘hazard of the job’ right?” Kix said.

“Heh...yeah.” Danvers replied. “How is she?”

“Uhm, she’s stable. They’re working on repairing her lung. Intubated. On a ventilator. Oxygen. Blood transfusion.” Kix tried to remember tiredly. “What happened?” He asked. He had to know.

“Serving a search warrant on my suspect. Your wife is the best at them. She’s calming. They always go smoothly. I didn’t want to wait and risk my guy dumping or destroying evidence. He was already agitated that we were even there. She tried to calm him down and have him step outside. Saying she wanted to explain the warrant to him and let him look it over.” Danvers relayed, Kix kept his eyes fixed on the ground.

“He grabbed her arm, we didn’t even see the knife. It turned out to be a small bayonet style blade. He got her once in the side....she fell. That’s when the shooting started.” Danvers trailed off. Kix knew the rest.

“Listen, I don’t blame you. Okay? I knew this was always a risk when I met her.” Kix said after a few silent beats. It was true, but Kix wanted to blame him. He wanted someone that was still alive that he could blame. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t right. The one to blame is dead, which was a good thing for him. Kix would’ve found the guy, and made sure he suffered for days before actually killing him. That realization of that part of himself scared him, but Kix felt it warrented due to the still very real possibility that you’d die. That his kids could be left without their mother and him without this other (and better in many ways) half. Danvers sighed, visibly relieved.

“Thank you, can you keep me updated? I have to get home. My husband has been worried.” Danvers requested, patting Kix on the side of his arm. Kix nodded and the man left.

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#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x you #kix x reader #code 30

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spookypalace · 3 years

Text

worship the flame - chapter one

Jo peaks a look at him once or twice as he’s ordering a list of drinks, she’s certain he catches her as pink lips curve into a smirk. Brown eyes meet for a final time before he steps away, and she wonders—maybe her dry spell would end.

---

Or the one where Jo meets Alex in a bar, during her final year of med school.

(if you would rather read on ao3, you can do here)

“Are you sure you can’t get the night off?” Lexie Grey pouted as she nursed the vodka soda that her best friend, Jo Wilson, had made her ten minutes earlier. Her expression made Jo wonder if she had already had one or two too many. “You’re a student, you are supposed to be broke.”

Jo raised her eyebrows as she threw a look over her shoulder, hands absently pouring shots of Tequila for another customer. “I’m broke whether I work tonight or not,” she answered, laughing when her friend rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Serious – did Lexie forget her financial situation after a few drinks. “I’m only here until, like, eleven, Lex. I’ll have time for a round.”

Lexie huffed. “You never finish on time, eleven will be two,” she retorted. She then moved to the bar stool that was closer to where Jo currently stood behind the bar, watching her as she served her customer and deposited their money into the register. “You sure you don’t want to trade in the life of an over-worked waitress for a fun-loving college student?”

“I’m sure, Lexie.” Jo told her with a roll of her dark eyes, wiping down the counter of where her messy friend had just moved from. She had been working at this particular bar since her first year of med school, so whilst it had become tiring, she still needed the cash that the job brought in. “It’s our final year of school – I need to make sure I can pay our rent,” Jo added with a laugh, knowing Lexie wasn’t all too happy that Jo had spent most of their college experience working behind her favourite bar. Even if she knew Jo had no choice.

Lexie let out a defeated sigh before pointing at Jo with a drunken gaze. “Just don’t let them bully you into working late again, alright? Your boss treats you like crap – don't let him make your final months of school hell.”

Jo grinned, she couldn’t keep the amusement from her face, Lexie tended to get a little overprotective when she was drunk. “I promise.”

Jo knew some of Lexie’s concerns weren’t unwarranted – her boss and her colleagues, a group of five guys, had some habits of talking down to her where they may or may not work her to the point, she was exhausted and was barely able to complete important schoolwork. It wasn’t too serious of a problem though – come hand in date, her almost perfect work was always on the professor’s desk. But Jo was hoping her shift wouldn’t run over this time. She was looking forward to spending some time with Lexie and some of their other friends once her shift was over.

A couple of hours later Jo was rushed off her feet whilst the bar got busier and busier and her friends occupied one of the booths in the back corner. “When are you gonna’ finish, Jo?” Her friend, Stephanie Edwards, questioned as Jo was whirling past their table.

“Billy is taking over my shift in, like,” she glances down at the watch that graced her wrist, “twenty minutes ago.” Jo answered, a sad smile on her lips as she leaned across the table to grab empty glasses and bottles. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys to be late, but the place had been so busy that she hadn’t even realised that her shift was over.

“I could just, like, pummel Billy,” Lexie slurred as she gulped down the remnants of another vodka soda, dark brown bangs swooping across her forehead and almost covering her eyes. One look at Lexie and you would never be able to tell she was in her final year of med school, since she skipped a grade or two, she looked noticeably younger than the rest of the girls at the table. “He would deserve it.”

Jo smirked, grabbing the final glass between her thumb and pointer thing when the sound of a familiar voice of her boss calls out her name, she sends a final grin to the girls and promises to join them soon before worming her way back to behind the bar. “Billy’s running late, I need you to stay until he gets here,” her boss mumbles whilst serving customers.

“No problem.” Jo responds just as un-enthusiastically right as two more customers show up on the other side of the bar. The two males greeted Jo with brief smiles before they began to relay their hefty order, gaze following her as she pulled pints and mixed spirits.

Once Jo was finished with the drinks and grabbing the cash from one of the guys hands, they asked if she could help them take the drinks over to their booth, she agreed although not hesitantly, wondering why they couldn’t have just made two trips. Jo follows them across the bar, coming to a stop in front of a booth the men had just joined, it was full, four males and two women. “Just place them anywhere,” the guy who had been at the bar murmurs, quiet enough for only Jo to hear as the rest of the group carried on conversation.

Jo shot him a look, though nodded while smiling as the first guy took the drinks from Jo’s hands and passed them along the table. Jo had seen some of their faces before, some of them were regulars—two of them in particular, but she never learnt any names of the people that came into the bar. She was only here to do her job, collect her pay-check and hopefully get back to her apartment at a reasonable time.

Jo had started working at the bar back in first year, before she met Lexie and was living in a dangerous part of the city unable to afford anywhere a little nicer. It wasn’t until her first couple of months at school that she met Lexie, but then, after saving her money and growing incredibly close she and Lexie decided to move in together, so they were closer to both their campus and the bar. Thankfully, they didn’t disagree all that much as they were in the same classes so unless Jo was in work they were always together, but there were still moments where the two of them would argue about the smallest of things. Sometimes Jo left an empty carton of milk in the fridge and other times, Lexie refused to pick up her dirty washing after getting changed. It was always easily resolved, but it gave her a migraine.

Fortunately, they didn’t let whatever problems they have with living together get in between them remaining great friends. They both wanted to become surgeons and Lexie’s father sometimes visited the pair to share exciting stories about the profession, it made them both extremely happy to know how close they were getting to finally becoming doctors.

“Here,” one of the guys, she had followed from the bar places a twenty-dollar bill in her hand, smiling sincerely before sending her a wink. “Don’t work too hard.”

Jo was hesitant to accept the tip, the smile the man had offered her seemed to have something behind it. Not to mention the wink, he was overtly flirting with her. The guy was attractive, if not a little too old for her; his hair was slightly graving at the edges and his beard framed his face – blue eyes sparkling up at her as she thanked him. “Really, Mark?” A feminine voice chides the man, shooting a pointed look at not just him, but also Jo. “Ignore him.” The dark-haired Latina woman that sat opposite him tells her, glaring at her friend.

“You got it.” Jo grinned, albeit fake, before whirling around and making her way back towards where came from. She couldn’t shake the feeling that a pair of eyes were watching her as she retreated.

With the appearance of Billy and one final order to be served, Jo ’s friends eagerly awaited the arrival of the missing member of their group. She began to see to the customer, pleased to learn he only required one bottle of beer—she made quick work of serving them, hoping her heinous boss wouldn’t pop back in to give her another task. Luckily, she was able to rid herself of her apron and avoid making small talk with Billy without any sighting of the boss.

Jo grabbed for bottles of beer from the fridge, placing the twenty-dollar tip she had earned from her flirty customer on the counter besides Billy—who raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. She shrugged, ignoring his silent questioning and made her way towards her friends who cheered at the sight of her, they were especially louder due to the four beverages she held in her dainty hands. Music, which Jo had ignored whilst working, played throughout the booth as her friends giggled and thanked her.

“So, Leah, you excited to start teaching in the fall?” Jo questioned, leaning back in the booth, bottle tipping against her pink plump lips as she looked at the blue-eyed girl in the seat opposite of her.

Leah grinned at Jo over her own beer. “Oh, yeah, definitely.” Since all of them, would be done with college and med-school within a couple of months, they were going to be taking the next step in adult life. Leah Murphy was doing so by acquiring a teaching job at one of the local high schools. She’s always wanted to be an English literature teacher, and someone who was as much of a know-it-all as Leah was, was the perfect kind of person to work that job, in both Jo and Lexie’s opinion. “Those tenth graders won’t know what’s ‘boutta hit ‘em.”

Lexie and Jo laughed at that, and Jo was glad that Leah was excited about her new job prospect. Whilst the blonde had her moments of insufferable-ness, Jo believed she wasn’t all bad. She had her moments. They had met Leah at this very bar about two years ago, they had all been drunk when exchanging numbers, but the drunken friendship just seemed to stick. Leaning against the seat, Jo tilted her head back and closed her eyes, already she felt relaxed, letting go of the stress that stuck through during work and the school year. Being in med-school consisted her taking so many courses in the field which meant lots of reading material and papers to write, and while Jo loved reading, she was really looking forward to taking a break tonight. Something about reading the boring side of medicine really dampened her mood.

As the song turned into a Blink-182 one, Jo was beginning to think that Stephanie had a hand in the songs which played on the juke box, Stephanie spoke up, “I can’t wait for spring break,” Jo noticed how tired Stephanie looked after non-stop work for the past couple of months, though there was a slight glimmer in her eyes as she spoke of their one week break that was coming up.

Jo let out a small gasp, sitting up while exclaiming, “Me too! I think I have a few days off from here, too.”

Though Jo wasn’t looking at Lexie’s face, she could hear the smile in her voice as she asked, “How many days off are you going to spend studying?”

“None.” Jo frowned; three pairs of raised eyebrows being shot her way. With a huff, Jo shrugs innocently, “one or two, maybe.”

Lexie and Stephanie burst into giggles, whilst Leah just smirked. “Yeah, right.” Stephanie commented through the giggles, sharing glances across the table with Lexie. They loved Jo, but she was ridiculously devoted to studying and working – they just wished she spent more time enjoying her personal life. The pair had only recently brought up the fact that Jo hadn’t even dated since their first year of med school.

There had been guys, but none that Jo let hang around long enough to see what her bedroom looked like in daylight. Which was fine for her, she had been burned badly the last time she let someone close enough for her walls to begin tumbling down, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Her friends respected that, but they still believed their friend would be a little less wound up if she got laid more often.

Four months, six days, and twelve hours—Lexie had lovingly reminded her just this morning.

Jo sighs, impressively finishing off her still full beer in only a matter of seconds. “I need to catch up, another one?” She asks, not waiting for a response as she climbs out of the booth, walking until she’s now in front of the bar, her elbows leaning against the counter as she presses her front into the wooden bar.

“They let you escape.” A hoarse voice grabs her attention, Jo’s head tilting towards the direction it came from.

She recognises him, at first it takes her a moment to think of where from—but then she remembers the booth she had served not too long ago, the one which tipped her twenty dollars. This guy wasn’t one of the ones which had ordered the drinks or offered her the money, he was one of the guys who was sat at the booth when she got there.

He smirks, holding out his hand in front of her, “Alex.”

For a split second, Jo’s eyes trail up from his hand and to his face.

Alex was dark, his jawline sharp with a five o’clock shadow decorating his face. His hair was short and the smirk that he wore on his lips was charming, if not confident. The dark gray long-sleeved t-shirt he wore highlighted his muscular arms, and his slim yet toned upper body. It was obvious this guy was into his sports, or working-out, but not enough to go crazy. He was attractive, and she felt body reacting to him more than it had when his friend shot her a similar smirk earlier.

“Jo,” she grins at him, placing her hand into his and offering him a small and dainty shake.

When Alex held onto Jo’s hand for a moment too long, she raised her eyebrows slightly, dark brown eyes looking at his from across the bar—his staring her down, as if challenging her. He let go of Jo’s hand, putting his into the air to call for Billy as she wondered if him holding her hand was intentional. Or maybe she was thinking too much into it—she had the tendency to overthink the smallest of things—so she just turned her gaze back to the alcohol that decorated the back wall.

Jo peaks a look at him once or twice as he’s ordering a list of drinks, she’s certain he catches her as the smirk stays etched onto his face. As their eyes meet for a final time before she steps away, she wonders—maybe her dry spell would end.

It didn’t take all too long for Jo to catch up her friends' level of drunk state, and after informing them of the hot stranger at the bar they had spent most of the night slipping in snarky remarks about how Jo was certainly getting laid later. A flush rising to her cheeks when she noticed that Alex had moved closer to their table, playing darts with two of his friends.

Leah was the first to leave, moaning about some test she had on Monday, then Stephanie was grabbing her purse and dramatically yawning at Jo and Lexie—insisting she had to be up early in the morning to help her semi-boyfriend with something or another.

In the end, it was just the two of them, which was something they were used to by now. Although Lexie had been spending an increasingly amount of her time, since the other girls left, exchanging texts with the guy she had been seeing who had just started his internship at Seattle Mercy West hospital. Jo hadn’t met the guy but she had heard him through the thin walls of the apartment.

So, Jo wasn’t all that surprised when Lexie lifted her head from her phone to shoot her an apologetic look, “are you ready to leave?”

“Erm …" Jo begins, her voice drifting off as her eyes scan across the almost empty bar, landing on the guy who had been occupying her thoughts since the moment he introduced himself. She guesses he can feel the weight of her eyes staring him down as he turns in her direction, that stupid smirk back on his face as he offers her a small wave. “You go.” Jo tells Lexie, whose eyebrows furrow in confusion—that is until she follows Jo’s wandering gaze, understanding completely when they settle on the tan male playing darts.

“Are you sure?” Lexie asks, stepping out of the booth slowly, just incase Jo changes her mind. At her friend's nod, Jo looks between the pair who couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off one another, “you’ll call once you’re done, right?”

Jo appreciated the way Lexie cared about her, despite being friends for a couple of years now it still wasn’t something Jo was entirely used to. Growing up completely alone Jo had found that most people were only nice for self-gain, not Lexie, though—it took Jo a long time, but she realised Lexie only wanted what was best for her, and Jo wanted the same for Lexie.

Satisfied with Jo’s promise to call, Lexie firmly nods and begins to make her way to the exit, not leaving before she points at Jo with an I'm-watching-you gesture, something which made Jo giggle.

The flicker of excitement that flashed across Jo’s face wasn’t missed by Lexie as she turned around to face exit the bar. “Come on, Jo,” she whispers through gritted teeth, attempting to find the confidence to approach the guy. A feeling of uneasiness was swimming in her belly as she got up from her seat and stepped towards the guy who had been raking his eyes across her body the entire night, thankful his friends had disappeared off somewhere.

Jo places a small hand onto Alex’s hard shoulder, surprising him. Reaching up onto her tiptoes so her lips could align with his ear, she whispers, “woman’s bathroom.”

Alex’s right eyebrow twitched slightly at her words; the movement so subtle but Jo had caught it as Alex’s throat tightened—the feeling of her warm breath against his neck doing something to him. He knew it probably isn’t the best idea, hooking up with a woman he didn’t know in the bathroom of his local bar, but he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes off her from the moment she served him. Jo’s sultry voice had an effect on him he couldn’t explain, and Alex didn’t have to think twice as his feet began to follow her towards the bathroom.

He watches as she rounds the corner, turning to lean back against the wall as she stared up at him. Jo’s own pouty lips were formed into an innocent smirk, which Alex didn’t think was even a thing until he saw her do it. He suddenly felt his jeans constricting him when he took in the tight black jeans, she wore that hugged her body in all the right ways and tantalizingly showed off her legs, along with her denim jacket. Alex found himself stepping and leaning closer to Jo when his eyes landed on her mouth.

He couldn’t help himself, and Jo made no move to stop him as Alex’s hands shot out of his pockets and cupped her cheeks, giving Jo no time to adjust as his lips pressed against hers without warning. She didn’t care the slightest, head tilted upwards to meet Alex’s searing kiss as her heart did the familiar leap in her chest as Alex’s lips pulled her lower one into a sucking, toe curling kiss.

Her hands gripped and curled around his t-shirt as she pulled him impossibly closer, blindly stepping so her back was flat against the wall and Alex pressed his front against hers. The already muffled music might as well have been non-existent in Alex and Jo’s ears as their kiss deepened, alcohol infused tongues coming together yet neither caring the slightest.

She wasn’t one for PDA most of the time, but Jo found herself throwing caution out the window with Alex’s tongue in her mouth and her fingers threading through his brunette hair, earning a deep groan from Alex that only served to excite her even more. Jo’s heart was pounding wildly, and her skin was on fire as Alex’s hands gripped her hips, using his grasp to dig his own into her as he hastily mumbled against her lips, “we need to get the fuck out of here.”

Jo was practically whimpering when she pulled away from the kiss, lips brushing against Alex’s as she told him, “the bathroom’s two doors down.”

Alex wasted no time in grabbing her hand, a thrilling grin spreading across her mouth as she let Alex drag her in the appropriate direction, trying to press her lips together to keep her from seeming too eager. But with the long, confident strides Alex was taking, she knew he felt exactly the same way as they finally reached the right door, briefly feeling relief at the fact that it was unoccupied.

There wasn’t a single moment lost as soon as the bathroom door closed and locked, Jo being suddenly lifted as a quiet yet startled exclaim escaped her once she was settled on the sink counter. Alex’s tall figure dominated her easily even then as he used his hands to spread her knees so he could stand between her legs, dress riding up excessively, and press his lips against hers once more, the brown eyed girl instantly returning the urgency of the kiss.

Hearts were pounding, hands were roaming, and lips never left the others as Jo and Alex lost themselves in each other. While the setting was not ideal, neither could bring themselves to care as Jo’s hands reached forward and blindly yet expertly began unbuckling Alex’s belt. The clanking of the belt coming undone was mixed in with the sounds of their lips smacking together, sharp breaths and distant music as Jo finally slid it off, tossing it behind Alex as it clattered against the tiled floor.

Lips were still pressed together as Alex shoved his jeans down to pull around his ankles, boxers following soon after and he couldn’t help the relieving groan he released into Jo’s mouth as his dick sprang free after being restrained for far longer than Alex would’ve liked. Jo’s arms were around his neck as she nipped at his lower lip, prompting Alex to quicken his movements as his hands slid up unbuckling her jeans and dragging them down her legs as she rose her hips. His fingertips against her bare legs leaving a fire on her skin in their wake as his fingers hooked on the band of her underwear before pulling them right down her legs.

Goosebumps were rising on Jo’s skin, which she found funny because Alex’s touch was both warming her to her excited core and sending shivers up her spine. But once he slid her panties off her legs she reluctantly pulled away from his lips, breathlessly whispering, “hold on,” before twisting behind her to open the mirror cabinet. Her eyes landed on the box she was looking for, pulling out a condom from the emptying container before shutting the cabinet and turning back around to look at Alex, who was staring at her with a quirked brow.

“How’d you know that was there?” he asked, his chest moving at a quicker pace as he tried to regain his breath, full lips swollen even more and pinker than usual that only increased the wetness gathering between Jo’s legs.

She tried not to squirm to hide just how much she wanted him in this moment, holding up the condom as she deadpanned, “do you really wanna’ get into that right now?”

Alex didn’t miss a beat. “No,” was all he said before plucking it from her fingers and connecting their lips once more, and Jo never would’ve thought that she would be in the bathroom of the bar which she worked at, fucking someone she had never met prior to this evening. She had no damn regrets.

#jolex #jo wilson #alex karev

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cupcakesandtv · 4 years

Text

My Home Is Your Body

Chapter 1 on ao3 Chapter 2 on ao3 Paxton and Devi go to Ikea but not as a date. It can’t be a date. But there can be a con, for old time’s sake.

Paxton looked hot. Again. As usual? It was a crime and a personal attack against Devi. She hadn’t slept well in weeks between her mom’s health and the ridiculously impulsive move and now the shitty old mattress on her bed that she was currently lying on, staring at the ceiling. How many nights had she looked up at this ceiling thinking about Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Goddammit. This was humiliating.

She was an adult. A professional. A doctor, nay a resident! And yet he really just showed up in her place of business looking like that. All tan, he probably still spent all summer swimming, looking like he’d shaved the day before so he had just the perfect amount of scruff, and ugh. His hair. It wasn’t any longer than high school but now he didn’t gel it down and it was just fluffy curls that begged to be pushed off his forehead. Yeah. Humiliating.

And he wanted her? That’s what it certainly felt like. Paxton hadn’t turned off the flirting at all. Start to finish, he seemed interested. She almost jumped out of her skin when he touched her elbow. How embarrassing. Thank god she thought quick enough to make a joke because he would have noticed otherwise. And she almost cried! Telling him about her mom’s cancer scare, she felt the tears trying to come. That was the last thing she wanted him to see! He always saw her cry. Years later and guess what? She still cried at the drop of a hat. At what age would she grow out of that embarrassing habit?

Were her legs even shaved? She tossed the comforter to the side, threw a leg in the air, and felt it. Shit. They weren’t. And she knew he looked at her legs. Paxton loved her legs. Or he used to. Now they were rounder and her calf muscles were less defined and she hadn’t even shaved before wearing that skirt to work today!

But none of this mattered. It didn’t matter if he wanted her or she wanted him. That was kid stuff. That was teenager shit from over a decade ago and they were adults now. They were different people with different wants and needs and attraction wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d dated plenty of jerks who were hot. Paxton had never been a jerk but maybe he was now! That thing about his job did seem set up to be a line to hook women. What was he gonna say next? He taught second graders math with swimming word problems about freestyle relay races? Was he gonna claim to do emotional labor, too?

Devi rolled over and looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was four in the morning. Not an ideal time to text Eleanor. Or Fab. Or even friends on the east coast who would have no context for her problem but she could at least whine about running into her high school boyfriend and he was tragically still very hot. She pushed herself out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen and found her mom, sitting quietly at the table, eating a banana.

“My mattress is terrible, what’s your excuse?” Devi asked. Nalini gave her a half smile and then looked out the window.

“I had heartburn. Do you think they nicked my esophagus when they went in to do the surgery?”

Devi tilted her head. “How would they even do that? It’s not even the same parts.” Devi moved her hand around her chest, thinking about where the surgeon would have to fuck up to do that.

“You never know. I don’t trust surgeons, they’re too confident.” Nalini looked back at Devi. “What’s wrong with your mattress?”

“It’s like 15 years old, Mom,” Devi explained, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “I’m gonna go get a new one this week.”

“You’re working tomorrow, or, I mean today?” “Yeah, all weekend, then I’m off on Monday. I’ll probably go then.” Devi sat down at the table in her seat to the side of her mother. It felt empty at the table with just the two of them. “Did you tell Kamala I’m back?”

Nalini nodded and smiled. “I did, she said she’ll come over in a few weeks. They’re enjoying the last bit of summer before her boys start school.”

“I can’t believe I’m excited to see her.” Devi took a drink of her water and turned to look out the window her mother’s gaze kept returning to. The sprinklers were on in the yard. Had she gotten up to turn them on or were they on a timer? “Anything exciting happen at work? I saw there was a big wreck on the news. Did you see anyone from there?”

“No, thankfully. No traumas tonight.”

“Nothing else exciting?” Nalini asked and Devi furrowed her brows. Did she know? How? Why? No. She didn’t know. That was ridiculous.

“Just a boring night. I did have a kid with terrible RSV. First one of the season, I guess. Poor thing. Just two years old, had to admit her. I hate admitting babies.”

“A two year old is hardly a baby, that’s a toddler,” her mom said, finally looking at her.

Devi rolled her eyes. “They’re all babies to me. Tiny little lungs and chunky thighs.”

“You think the grass needs to be mowed?” Nalini changed the subject as Devi yawned.

She looked out the window again. “Maybe?”

“Next weekend for sure,” her mom whispered. “I’m going back to bed. You should too.”

“I’m going,” Devi said, as she watched her mom head back up to her room.

Being home was surreal. Usually, her mom came to visit her in Boston. Devi had only been home a handful of times since she’d graduated from high school. She came home for Kamala’s wedding, Trent and Eleanor’s spectacle that okay maybe Devi was partially to blame for, and a rare long weekend trip.

Devi had been going 100 miles an hour since she left home and being home meant slowing down. It was uncomfortable, like when you get off a train and the ground doesn’t quite feel solid underneath you. Paxton had felt solid enough though and that was terrifying.

Devi got a couple hours of sleep in before she texted the girls’ group chat. Fab didn’t live in Sherman Oaks anymore, she was up in San Francisco, leading a wellness startup that, last Devi heard, was studying how to better integrate healthcare technology into nursing homes. She came home much more often than Devi did.

DEVI TO GROUP: Why didn’t you tell me Paxton was still hot? That’s vital information I needed to know for when he SHOWED UP IN THE EMERGENCY ROOM. FAB TO GROUP: omg is he okay?

ELEANOR TO GROUP: He’s fine and I'm sorry I don’t even notice anymore. I work with actors who used to be underwear models and the view I get most of Paxton is of him raiding my fridge so I really think of him more as my third child.

DEVI TO GROUP: Eleanor, how did you know he’s fine? FAB TO GROUP: He definitely went to Eleanor’s house after he left the ER. Did he raid your fridge, Eleanor? ELEANOR TO GROUP: Nah. He had a beer and was mad that i didn’t warn him Devi was home

DEVI TO GROUP: What exactly did he say, Eleanor???? I NEED TO KNOW THE EXACT WORDS FAB TO GROUP: Are you guys gonna get back together????? omg is this about the wedding pact? DEVI TO GROUP: No, we’re not gonna get back together and we didn’t make a pact! ELEANOR TO GROUP: He said he was happy you were home. That’s it. FAB TO GROUP: That’s way less exciting than I was hoping for.

DEVI TO GROUP: It’s fine. You know. I don’t even care. He looked good and I just wish you had warned me about it. It’s disorienting. FAB TO GROUP: He’s really fun these days, Devi, you should get back together. DEVI TO GROUP: What do you mean he’s really fun? And I just got here! Who says I’m dating? FAB TO GROUP: He’s fun! I went to talk to his class last year on career day because he had a couple of kids interested in robotics. It was cool. I had a good time, I think the kids did too? Idk I'm a terrible judge of whether a child is having fun or not.

DEVI TO GROUP: Eleanor, you’re suspiciously quiet. What else did he say? Eleanor did not respond and Devi was forced to spend all day thinking about what Paxton may or may not have said on Eleanor’s couch.

Devi unpacked a few boxes before she got ready for work, but she didn’t have the space for all her shit so she cleared out her old dresser drawers and pulled out several boxes of stuff from the top of her closet, meaning to go through it, but when she opened the first box, there was an 8x10 of Devi and Paxton from the swimming pool. She closed the box quickly and vowed to go through it later. She couldn’t do it right now.

She hauled the boxes downstairs where her mom was doing one of those dumb Youtube workouts in the living room. “Where are you taking those?”

“To the garage.” Devi didn’t pause on her way to the garage.

“Did you go through them first?” she asked, not stopping her weird over the head stretch.

“No.”

Nalini appeared in front of her too fast for a human being. Moms had some kind of special power or something. “If you don’t go through them, you’ll never go through them and they’ll sit in the garage forever and then there will be a storm and then you’ll get bugs that will just eat through the wet paper and then I’ll have to call the exterminator,”

Devi put the boxes down in front of the door. “I have to go to work, Mom. And I need to use the top of the closet for stuff that matters, not all this junk from high school. I promise, I’ll go through the boxes, just not today.”

She headed for the front door to put her shoes on and saw her mom lift the lid off the top box. Devi cringed. “That’s why you don’t want to go through the boxes,” she heard her mother say before placing the lid back on.

“When do you go back to work?” Devi desperately tried to change the subject.

“Not soon enough! That girl is not handling the pressure well, I heard the office is running consistently half an hour behind.” Nalini folded her arms across her chest.

“Don’t call her a girl, she’s my age and she’s more than capable of handling your practice while you’re convalescing.”

“You picked her, you’d know,” Nalini said under her breath.

“You asked me to help you find someone and she is the most people pleasing person I’ve ever met.” Nalini smiled. “I do like that part of her. She’s the opposite of you. What a relief.”

Devi picked up her purse. “You still have heartburn?”

“No, I’m fine.” “Okay because this morning you were worried the surgeon went on a walkabout so I’m just checking,” Devi said, furrowing her brow. Was everyone’s mother this difficult as an adult? “I don’t remember saying that but you can’t trust surgeons, they’re so arrogant.” Nalini walked over and adjusted Devi’s collar. “Remember that surgeon you dated? The one with the hair plugs? He was a nightmare.”

“Tell me I can’t date until I’m 30, then make fun of everyone I date, I can’t win.” Devi rolled her eyes.

“You have bad taste.”

“I’m going to work now, don’t forget to eat something.”

DEVI TO PAXTON: I’m off Monday, I assume since school hasn’t started you might be free? To go to Ikea?

Devi waited uncomfortably, pacing back and forth in front of the admissions desk in the ER. Three days' notice was appropriate for a friend hang out, right? Should she have just called? No, she didn’t want to talk to him and hear his voice and she could always tell when he smiled even by phone, she couldn’t handle that kind of nostalgia right now.

“Dr. Vishwakumar, we need you at bed 5,” a tech said, rushing by, hardly turning to Devi to deliver the information. “Got it.” She followed the tech as her phone vibrated. If she looked at it now, she couldn’t concentrate on whoever was in bed 5. Text reading later.

But after the kid in bed 5 with a marble up her nose, there was a person experiencing homelessness who had severe sepsis in an open wound. Then a mild car accident where everyone was mostly fine but X-rays were always a good idea. Then an old lady who missed her dialysis, causing an infection.

By the time Devi looked at her phone, she had more than one text but the only one she cared about, she pulled up and read quickly, on the off chance that someone else might need something right away.

PAXTON TO DEVI: Are we getting breakfast at Ikea or lunch? I’ll drive. I'm sure whatever you buy won’t fit in the back of your little car.

Devi rolled her eyes. She could drive. She knew where it was and everything. And taking separate cars would probably be better. Putting some distance between them and less chances for awkwardness but her mental list of things she needed was pretty long and okay, so yeah that stuff probably wouldn’t all fit in her sedan. And he offered to drive. That was basically saving the planet, carpooling, right? DEVI TO PAXTON: Lunch. Pick me up at 11 on Monday?

Somebody came bursting through the doors and she threw back her head in frustration. Duty called. But before she could move to see where she was needed, the phone in her hand vibrated.

PAXTON TO DEVI: Bring your best ball jokes for the meatballs, see ya Monday.

Fucking dork. Or wait. It was her that was the dork in that situation. Sigh. This was bad. This was dangerous.

Paxton picked Devi up at 11 sharp which worked perfectly because Nalini, who was not yet back at work, happened to go to the grocery store just before he showed up. Devi spent the last couple days deciding if she should tell her mother that Paxton Hall-Yoshida was taking her to Ikea. Despite Nalini’s initial harsh treatment of Paxton, once Devi and Paxton came clean about dating all those years ago, Nalini warmed to him but just barely. Just enough that she wasn’t openly mocking his intelligence at the dinner table anymore. She never did like him, more like tolerated him. The nicest thing Devi could think that her mother had ever done was to allow a picture to hang on the wall from Devi’s graduation that had Paxton in it. Didn’t seem like much but a place on the wall was likely the highest praise one could ever get from Nalini Vishwakumar. As Devi got in the truck, she wondered if that picture was even still on the wall. They made small talk in the car, it went about as well as expected. He seemed to really hate small talk now.

“How’s Becca?” she asked, cringing as she watched a car change lanes without using a blinker.

“She’s great. She works at a fashion house in San Diego, it’s called, uh…” Paxton trailed off, biting his lip. Oh god, he used to bite her lips. No. Bad Devi, don’t think about that! “Magic Muslin,” Devi provided.

He looked over at her and smiled. “Yeah, you know it?”

“We’re Facebook friends.” Paxton made a face. “Why’d you ask then?” “I’m making polite conversation!” She reached over and pushed against his shoulder, a touch meant to lighten the mood, make it friendly, but unfortunately he was still very buff. The t-shirt he was wearing should have been illegal. He filled it out too well.

“It’s just me! Stop doing that!” But before they could argue more, he pulled into a parking space and Devi could get out and brush off his demand.

Small talk was best. It kept everyone at arm’s length and that was what she needed to do.

They got their lunch on their trays, Devi tried to pay but he’d already told the cashier and paid for both their food. That made it feel more like a date and she could not be on a date. Not with Paxton.

“So, hit me with your best ball joke,” Paxton said, stabbing a meatball with his fork and lifting it in her direction, playfully, from across the table. “I didn’t prepare any ball jokes,” Devi said, pressing her lips together tightly, trying not to smile at his goofy face. “Devi Vishwakumar didn’t prepare? You really have changed,” he said, before putting the meatball in his mouth.

“At the behest of my therapist, I’ve learned you don’t have to be prepared for everything. It really cuts down on my stress and it’s not like I was gonna Google ball jokes. That would have been a bad move.” She looked down at her salmon. “Besides, I didn’t even order meatballs.”

“I can’t actually think of any ball jokes personally, but I’ll ask the fifth graders when school starts and get back to you,” he said, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. There was a little gravy in one corner too but Devi resisted the urge to clean it for him. Had to stay away from his lips.

“I thought you taught second grade, not fifth.” Devi was proud of herself for looking him in the eyes and not at his stupid smile.

“The elementary swim team is fourth and fifth graders, those fifth grade boys are the weirdest combination of knowing almost nothing about sex but having a large cache of dirty jokes.”

Devi laughed, “That’s probably a really uncomfortable trip.” “Daily,” he said, pausing to look at her. Paxton just stared for a minute and Devi reached up to her own mouth, covering it.

“Do I have something on my face?” she asked, unsure.

Paxton seemed to snap out of it. He shook his head and went back to his food.

“How did you get into teaching, anyway?” Devi picked at her salmon.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” he said, but Devi raised her brows and waited. If he hated small talk then this was the opposite. He gave a half shrug before he started. “My grandpa in Japan? He broke his leg, this was like, uh, eight years ago? Nine? Just when I’d finished undergrad. I didn’t have a job lined up and he needed some help, so I went to Japan for a year. I helped my grandparents and I fell into a gig teaching English to old ladies. They loved American crime shows so lessons were basically me explaining what idioms from CSI meant. It was really fun but I didn’t think anything of it. It’s not really a job you can have here in the states, right? But the last month or so a friend got sick and couldn’t teach their kids English class. So I covered for her and I ended up loving it. And that is something I could do here.”

He was excited, but he held back, just a little, she could tell he wasn’t giving her everything. Did he think she’d make fun of him? “You just came home and started teaching?” she asked, unable to think of some other question that would put him at ease. But that seemed to be enough because he smiled wide, and put his fork down so he could start talking with his hands. He did that when he got excited. Or he used to. Or he still did. She was seeing it now. “That state is absolutely strapped for teachers so I took a 6 week certification for people with degrees, and I taught my first year. I taught eighth grade math. I wanted to die!” He put his hands in his hair and blew out a long breath. “It was so hard. But I still liked it enough that I went back to school and picked up some reading courses and early ed stuff. I switched to elementary and had a blast. This is gonna be my seventh year teaching. I love it.”

Devi smiled, he was so animated, so happy. It was so easy to see he was being real. “You like school? That’s amazing. I love this.”

Paxton blushed and looked away before looking back at her and smiling wide. “I do, too. I really love it.”

She wondered how many women must fawn over him. A teacher? Helping little kids learn to read? They had to be lined up around the block. Maybe he’d married one of them and then divorced. Maybe he had a kid now. Oh god. No. Those were not questions she wanted to ask. What he did in the in-between time was none of her business.

“I shoulda picked up a piece of cake,” Devi said, mostly to herself, annoyed that she’d let her thoughts travel down that dangerous road.

His chair scraped across the floor before she even finished her statement. “I’ll get it.” “Hey, sit down, dude,” Devi said, reaching across and grabbing his wrist before he could fully stand up and go. “There’s ice cream at the end. I’ll eat that.”

“I can get you cake,” he offered but Devi shook her head.

“Sit down,” she commanded, with a slight grin, and he did. He listened, mirroring her face.

“Paxton?” someone asked from behind them. Paxton’s eyes got wide.

“Uh,” he dragged it out, while Devi turned around and saw a tall, white brunette approaching the table, eyes fixed on Paxton. “Uh, hi, uh.” The woman tilted her head, her too wide smile sort of plastered on by the time she stood at the end of their table.

“Erin, hi, Erin,” Paxton pulled out at the last second and Erin looked relieved. “How’ve you been?” Erin asked him.

Paxton scratched at his ear and looked at Devi, panicked. This was an ex. Devi knew it. From not remembering her name and the tension in his shoulders, she’d guess either a short term thing or it had been a long time ago. Not a hypothetical one he had a hypothetical kid with, someone else. Devi was a long time ago ex herself but this was uncomfortable to watch.

Devi had not cured her impulsivity with age or therapy which is why she leaned across the table, put her hand over his, and said, “Hi Erin, I’m Devi.” That warm tone had gotten her plenty of free drinks in her life and now it was getting her a glare.

Paxton’s entire aura changed. He swallowed, his shoulders relaxed, he looked at Devi like she was the only person in the world, but he didn’t smile, not quite, though he did when he looked back at the brunette.

“Oh.” Erin said, and Devi could hear the moment when the wind was taken from Erin’s sails by the con Devi was running. “Nice to meet you.”

“We’re just mattress shopping, you know, for the new bed,” Paxton explained. “What about you?”

“I needed a stepstool,” Erin said, looking back at Devi, her fake plastered smile was shrinking by the second. “And oh, my friend has our food, it was nice running into you!” Erin bolted like an Olympic sprinter and Devi moved her hand slowly off Paxton’s. She didn’t want Erin looking back to see her pulling back quickly, so slow and natural was fine. Did he always have a scar on the side of his thumb? That was new or since they’d dated. She didn’t dare ask about it.

“Thank you,” Paxton said, sheepish.

“You forgot her name.” Devi rested her chin on her hand.

“I went on one date with her,” he defended. “Maybe two. She thinks charter schools are a good use of state money.”

“And they’re not?” Devi tried to sound like she knew the answer but she really had no idea.

“They take money from public schools and funnel them into useless bullshit learning facilities that often close without notice. I could give you a 30 point run down if you-” “Nope,” she cut him off. “You explained well enough. Charter schools suck. Got it.”

“She didn’t take off her shoes in my apartment either.”

“Two dates and she made it to your apartment?” Devi asked, tilting her head.

“Anyways,” Paxton said, looking away, avoiding the question. “Mattresses, huh?”

Devi laughed and he turned to smile at her. “Right, mattresses.”

They cleaned up their table, Devi tried to take her tray, but Paxton took it before she could, and when she tried to fight about it, he came close to her, and whispered in her ear, “Erin is gonna be a thing all day. She’s staring now and they’re about to finish eating, she’s gonna be following us through the store at this rate.”

Devi rolled her eyes, but pushed on his shoulder and let out a too loud laugh that would have Erin, two tables over, very sure they were madly in love and picking out their new mattress for their new house that they’d just closed on and were about to conceive several children on. Not that Devi had put any thought into this con she’d started. (It was very easy to concoct something detailed and thorough, it’s not like she’d never thought about it with Paxton.)

She considered grabbing his hand, but Devi was already feeling a little too invested in faking it so she held back. Paxton stayed close to her, but didn’t make any other moves to put on a show for Erin. They wandered easily through all the fake home setups, the tiny 500 square foot spaces, the kitchens that looked like Nancy Meyers movies, and finally, the beds.

“You’re gonna want a new frame, right? Isn’t the bed in your room a full? That’s not big enough.” Paxton said, touching the footboard on a metal frame. “Yeah, but I already picked the frame out. I just need to figure out which mattress.” She cut across the floor and stopped at a mattress, pushing her hands into it. Paxton followed, stood at the foot of the mattress, and fell backwards like some kind of trust fall, bouncing a little when he landed. He rolled onto his side and looked at the tag. “Best for side sleepers.” “I’m a back sleeper,” she said, moving to the next mattress and pressing her hand down into the foam.

Paxton moved to stand next to her. “You can’t pick a mattress by hand, you gotta lie down,” he said, just as he crawled onto the mattress.

“No, I don’t,” Devi argued. Lying on a mattress with Paxton was the last thing she needed to do.

He lifted up his head and rested it on his hand. “I can’t tell you if you’ll like it. I’m a side sleeper. This one seems fine but if you’re gonna be on your back…”

Devi huffed. “Fine,” she said, crawling up the mattress, but leaving as large a gap between them as she could. Sure, nothing could happen in a fluorescent lit Ikea, but it wasn’t ever about what could happen, it was about how Devi couldn’t stop feeling the pull to be nearer to him, how being close to him felt good. Like muscle memory. But those muscles didn’t have memory anymore. Things were different now. It’d been too long. Or so she had to keep telling herself.

On her back, looking at the warehouse ceiling of the Ikea, Devi shifted in the bed, trying to see if it would be comfortable.

“From your face, I guess this one isn’t it,” Paxton said, sitting up.

“Yeah, not this one.”

Paxton stood up and offered her his hand, she took it, and he pulled her up easily, but a little too quickly so she bumped into his chest. And just like in the ER on Friday night, she couldn’t bring herself to put space between them. He didn’t move either, and he was still holding her hand, their hands were the only thing between them. Devi pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to smile at him. There was no reason to smile except she was nervous and he was looking right at her, softly, like there was some joke he’d just remembered. His lips parted like he was about to say something and Devi didn’t want to know what would happen next so she turned and started walking.

“Thanks,” she said, moving to the next mattress.

To his credit, Paxton didn’t miss a beat, he was flopping himself dramatically onto the next mattress she stood at. They hit every mattress in the showroom it seemed like, some Devi wouldn’t even lie down on after feeling them with her hand, more that she disregarded almost instantly. Paxton tried every one of the mattresses, teasing her as he went.

“This one is pretty good.” He said on the tenth mattress, but he pulled up the tag and made a face. “It is expensive though.”

“Thank god for zero percent interest rates on my Discover card,” Devi said, lying down and wiggling her body into the mattress. “Oh, this one is good.” She got comfortable and sighed. Then rolled on her side, facing Paxton, and moaned, just barely. Devi didn’t mean to make that sound but she had been sleeping on that terrible mattress at her mom’s house for too long and this mattress felt perfect.

Paxton raised his eyebrows and smiled, sly. “Should i leave you alone with this mattress? You need a nap?”

Devi sighed, long and deep. “No, let’s just go put it in the back of your truck and take it home. Like right now. Do we have to walk the rest of the store?”

“It’s your show, Devi.” He reached over and pushed some hair behind her ear, her skin pebbled as his hand slid against her, and she tried not to gasp. He lowered his voice, “Sorry, uh, Erin is over there so…” “Oh.” Devi grinned, and reached over and pushed his curls from his forehead, avoiding the bandaid that covered his one stitch that she gave him. A great excuse to do what she’d wanted to do since Friday night. “Do you think the hair gel industry misses you? Surely, their sales went way down since you stopped plastering your hair to your head.”

He sucked in air and sat up, pulling her up by the arm with him. “You’re hilarious, Vishwakumar.” Shit, he hadn’t called her that in forever, no one else had ever bothered to use her last name as a nickname. Most people found it too long or couldn’t pronounce it, but Paxton Hall-Yoshida was not most people. Was she ovulating? Because Paxton calling her by her last name really had her feeling warm.

By the time they’d made it to the warehouse section, Paxton had picked up some dish towels for his apartment and a new pillow and Devi planned to trick him into letting her pay for them since he’d bought lunch. It was the only way this was fair and didn’t feel like a date. Okay, it still felt like a date but it wasn’t a date. He was helping her out. That’s all. Not a date.

They gathered her bookshelf, bedframe, mattress, and a stray piece of art that she liked and checked out. Devi got a couple of ice cream cones at the snack bar and when she handed one to Paxton he leaned over and kissed the side of her head. Another thing he did constantly when they were teenagers. Devi closed her eyes while he did it and remembered that Erin must be in view and it was just pretend but that action knocked her off kilter.

She’d dated plenty of people over the years but only one person had come close to the intimacy she’d felt when she dated Paxton in high school. Devi had convinced herself that the things she remembered about dating Paxton were better in her head. Everything seems warmer, smoother, better when you’re reliving it in your memories. The human brain did that. There were medical studies. She’d even read one for a paper once. But with his lips in her hair, against her head, the way he did it so casually, like he was born to do it, like he’d never stopped doing it, Devi considered that actually, the study was wrong. This was better than she remembered.

And that was very unfortunate.

“She’s gone now, and we can go, congrats on another successful con.” Paxton winked at her. “I’m gonna go get the truck, meet me at the loading spot?”

“Yep,” Devi said, feeling off balance. This was fine.

On the ride home, her mom texted to let her know she was going into her practice to check on some things. It was for the best because she still didn’t want her mom to run into Paxton. It didn’t seem like a good idea.

They hauled the flat boxes upstairs to her room and with almost no issue (okay, so they did put the bed frame together upside down but a Youtube tutorial later they fixed it) they put the shelf and the bed together. Paxton cleaned up all the cardboard packaging and Devi put the sheets on the bed and then rolled around on the mattress. That’s how he found her when Paxton came back up to her room.

Devi was spread out, surely he would get the hint and not lie down next to her but before she knew it Paxton was next to her. He rolled on his side so he could look at her and Devi closed her eyes. She mirrored his position but kept her eyes closed and put her hands under her cheek. She made an exaggerated snoring noise. Paxton laughed.

“I thought you were a back sleeper,” he said, a laugh in his voice still.

“You’re on my bed, I don’t have room to spread out when someone else is here,” Devi said, not opening her eyes.

“Alright, I’ll get out of here.” But he didn’t move. Instead, she felt his thumb on her shoulder. If anyone else had done this, she would have been confused, but she knew exactly what he was doing. She opened her eyes and saw him biting his lip, staring at a spot on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb over it.

“It’s not like it went anywhere,” she said.

Paxton brushed his thumb across the small scar and then looked at her, somber. “You ever think about how stupid that was, like as an adult, as a doctor, you ever think about how stupid it was to get that close to a wild animal?” He sounded mad.

“I survived my own stupidity, and as I recall, you did all kinds of stupid things back then,” Devi said, defensive.

“Yeah, like not keep an eye on you when you were at your first party.” Ugh. She couldn’t handle his guilt over something that happened 15 years ago and had turned out just fine. His overprotective streak had been a problem for them later so she was surprised he even dared bring it up.

Devi reached for the small bandaid on his forehead and tapped next to it, eager to change the subject. “Great news. This one won’t scar.”

“Did you go to medical school to prove to the ER doctor you could do better?”

“No,” Devi said, a proud smirk filling her face. “But it was a nice bonus.”

“You were drunk. You weren’t exactly staying still. He did his best.”

“Oh please.” Devi rolled her eyes. “I once put five stitches in a toddler who had seven cans of coke before he rammed his head into the corner of a coffee table. Did he scar? Yes, but barely. I’m very good at my job.”

Paxton tried not to laugh. “I had fun today.”

“Me too.” Devi admitted, that was fine. She could admit she had fun.

He paused, she could see him bite the inside of his cheek. “I missed you.”

Oh.

Devi tried not to visibly cringe. She missed him too but she had to tell him. “I’m seeing someone.”

“What?” He instantly changed, he was hurt, mad, annoyed.

“A guy from Boston, I left in such a hurry I didn’t-“

“So break up with him.” He sat up, turning to Devi like his plan was obvious. “Excuse me?” Devi sat up too because how dare he? “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“You broke up with me when you moved ‘cross country, why not him?”

“Because I left in a hurry. There’s no reason to just dump my boyfriend because I decided I had to be home.” Devi stood up, she had to put space between the two of them because her temper was boiling and she knew never to be near people when she was this angry. “And what, you’re interested in me so I should just rearrange my life? Grow up!”

“I never stopped being interested in you!” Paxton shouted, frustrated. “Is this one of the things you needed to do before you ran into me? Get a haircut, replace the mattress in your bedroom, dump your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t know I’d come back and have you falling over yourself to get close to me! I thought you moved on!”

“At the wedding we said-“

“I was 21! Everybody makes ridiculous plans when they’re 21!”

Devi’s mom opened the door and stood confused. “What’s going on?” Just what this situation needed, her mother making things worse.

“Nothing, Dr. Vishwakumar,” Paxton answered firmly, keeping his eyes locked on Devi. He took a deep breath and shook his head, just barely, before turning to leave.

“No wait,” Devi yelled, following him. “We’re not done!”

“You should have told me. I thought, I thought since you were home and you asked for help, I’m an idiot,” he threw over his shoulder as he rushed down the stairs.

“I don’t even know you anymore!” she said, walking behind him.

“Yeah you do! And I know you!” He turned at the bottom of the stairs and looked at her, like he could somehow communicate what he wanted to say without speaking but she didn’t know how to do that anymore. It’d been too long. This was what she was talking about. He proved her point.

“I should have told you but I literally forgot he existed when I bumped into you at work.” Maybe she was blaming him for what was definitely her fault. But he had no business being that hot! People were supposed to get uglier with age! It was unfair how good he looked!

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He put on his shoes and walked out the door.

Devi could follow him but there was nothing else to say. So she stood at the door and watched him get into his truck and drive away.

“Guess he’s not staying for dinner,” Nalini said, coming down the stairs. Devi glared at her.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said before heading back up the stairs to sulk in her room. That was a normal adult thing to do and she was gonna do it.

#never have i ever #daxton #devi x paxton #my home is your body fic #never have i ever actually fallen in love series #okay well anyways!!!!#there will be more trent and eleanor in the next bit #fic

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trao-shit-falgar-d-law · 4 years

Text

Trafalgar Law x Reader.

[Hungry]

<<---------------->>

This ain't my first oneshot fanfic whatever it is... but still Im not really confident with my English, so hope you like it.

Can found me on deviantart too @CameShitpost

warning: contain topics such as anorexia and bulimia, if you don't like it, I invite you not to read the content.

<<----------------->>

How long have you been like this? commonly eating nothing more that ice cubes(?). But this don't make the trick, your tummy pleading for something real, something solid, but alas the only thing you do is bear with pain.

All your friends on the tidy submarine can't and don't notice that pattern of yours, they just see you as some bashfull and 'cute', (Courtesy of Shachi and Penguin), girl on the crew.

All suspicious thoughts about torturing yourself the way you do, going away when they see you laugh and play all day long with them.

Can really someone who looks as happy as you, really hurt themeselves like you do?

The only exception being your captain, aka Surgeon of death, he having the feelling about something wrong from the first time he had laid eyes on you, never with the proofs enough to step in the way and stop your slow path to the imminent death.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA S-Stop i-it (Y-Y/N)-chan!" Bepo's laugh fills the parlor where you were hanging out. He under your merciless tickle attack.

Today was an unusual day when all the chores have done before or there isn't important stuff to do,the North Blue being calm for the mean time, a break day you may say. You were with Bepo, the flufiest friend you have never had. Just to be stopped by a sudden wave of pain, eating you insideout.

'Fuck I think I'm going to puke' Thinking while you contort in hopes to cease the ache.

"(Y/N)-chan are you fine?" The softness in Bepo's voice made you realize that your dropping your 'Im fine' act.

"M-mh yeah, sorry for making you worry..." You try to stay away from any query about your health.

"A-are you sure?" He pries, really worried about your being.

"...Y-yeah it's just queasness, I'm going to my room now" Gettin up from your place next to Bepo, to steer towards your room.

"Don't you want me to call captain, he may give you someth-"

"No!" you argue back, a little too loud, knowing you'll be busted if someone, anyone, finds out.

"I'm sorry" a deppressed Bepo talk, earning an apology from you.

"No, I'm sorry Bepo, I'll be okey don't worry" answering while trying to comfort him.

"O-okey, please take care (Y/N)-chan" he says taking both your hands in his big paws.

Just lessening yourself in aswering with a faint smile.

The noice that your empty stomach make, fills the lonly room, where you confinance yourself. Disgorging all the gastric juice that melts your stomach in a painfull way, now the noice of your gags and liquid resonanting all over the walls on the bathroom.

The sudden burst of your captain abrupting on your restroom scaring the shit out off you.

"The fuck!" is the only thing you say, now a court and silver gaze on you. His large and tattoed hand taking a hold on you by your wrist.

"Auch!, Law you're hurting me! Get off me!" You plead, trying to pry off his hold.

"No" he retorts minimizing your words.

Law still keeping you imprisioned, forcing your way through the halls, the kitchen coming into view.

"From now on, your eating with me" He states more as an order than anything.

Your mind registering what he had said.

'How does he know? When he found out? W-what's going to happen now?'

All your stress and worries that you were bottling up in your insides came out with an outburst, a few tears rolling down from your eyes, and when your captain hear the quite sobs, he stop abruptly on his track, making you bumped on him.

Now corncern all over his features. Did he really hurt you this bad?Did he say something to hurt you?... He was trying to help you, y-yeah, you are the one starving to death... W-why you're still crying.

His hand with a hold on your wrist, now switching to intertwind his fingers with yours, that movement not going unseen for you.

"What are you doing captain?" you ask trying to sound stern, even if you were crying a while ago.

Silence fall on the place, the soft breath of your captain making you notice the closeness were both of you are, that fact causing your heart going wild, a new blush creeping its way out to your cheeks. Seeking for an answer or a reaction from the other you guide your look to his eyes, now they looking warm and soft than before, with a glimpse of gold.

"I-I don't know what is making you do that to yourself, and i don't intend forcing you to tell me..." his voice sounding low "...But that doesn't mean I'm letting you, I want and I'll try to help you overcome it, and always gonna be for you when need it most"

Silence falls againg, this time warm and comforting, now clinging yourself on his hoddie you try to say something...thinking hard about what he had said.

"Thanks" smiling softly you let some tears fall again, maybe it isn't time yet to talk about those things that are leading you to that state of yours, but from now on, you'll try to stun those shitty thoughts and relay more in your captain.

'Really, how many time does he need to help me?'

Thinking while getting comfortable on his hold.

"So, I know you haven't eating in a while..." He speeks again breaking the mood "What are you craving for?"

"A sandwich" you claim in hope of getting revenge of scaring the shit out of you. Knowing too well how much he despise bread.

A smug smile spreading on your lips when you notice his diturbed look, but not willing to argue back, just for you, and your sake.

"Okey, but you paid, whatever we need to buy" you can hear him complaint under his breath.

Taking your hand on yours, he now leads you to the control place, in search of a new place where to found... b-bread.

You just smiling like a dork in anticipation of all the new experiences both are going to participate.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #fanfic #reader #onepiece #one piece x reader

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welcometophu · 3 years

Text

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 21

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 21

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Pels swims back to consciousness, gripping the hand in hers tightly as she feels herself wake. “What…?”

“Shh,” Dad whispers. “Rest.”

“Pels?”

Wait.

“Mom?” Her throat hurts, and she’s not sure why. Maybe it’s just dry. Maybe she screamed. Was she screaming? There’s a hazy memory of flying and sound and then… no, she doesn’t have anything she can grasp.

The hand on hers grips her so hard it hurts. She whimpers, opening her eyes to see her mother leaning in close, reaching out to touch her cheek with her free hand. “Pels,” Mom whispers. “Thank God. You were in an accident. Do you remember…?”

Flying… the car tumbling….

“Are Jess and Shane okay?” she asks. She remembers leaving PHU with them, heading for Valiant. Dad wanted to take a different route. Then… just bits and pieces.

“In better shape than you are,” Dad murmurs. “They’re fine.”

“In the waiting room,” Mom says. “Treated and released. Their parents have already been here and left again. You were… it’s a miracle.”

“It’s Dad,” Pels says. She doesn’t know for sure, but he had to have been involved. He has to be the reason she’s still here, the reason that Jess and Shane are okay.

“Hey, Mom.” The curtain pulls back, and Cheyenne is there, poking her head in. “They said there’s one food court open at this hour and Jess and I were going to—oh my God, Pels! You’re awake!” She squeals loudly, darting to Pels’s bedside, hugging her hard enough that it hurts.

“Cheyenne. Hey. Please….” Pels tries to push her away, thankful when Dad helps. The IV in the back of one hand hurts, and her body just aches like she’s been on the inside of a cement mixer. With the hardened cement. “How are you here?”

“I need to go tell Jess and Shane.” Cheyenne disappears with a rattle of the curtain as she drags it shut behind herself. There’s a call of, “please don’t run!” in the distance, along with Cheyenne’s footsteps moving quickly away.

Mom releases Pels’s hand so she can settle back in her chair. “They called me as soon as you arrived in the hospital. You’re eighteen, and you had all your information on you, but I was listed as your emergency contact, so—”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Pels says quietly. “I don’t really remember everything.”

“I don’t know everything, either,” Mom admits. “We’ve been trying to put it all together, but even with the witness accounts, it doesn’t make sense. The police are still investigating as far as I know. It’s been about six hours since it happened.”

“Only six hours?”

Mom looks down at her hands, twined together in her lap. “One advantage to this area is that there are a number of experienced and very talented Healers available and on-call,” she says quietly. “It would’ve been far worse without them. It’s still not going to be easy. You’re here until Sunday at least, so Cheyenne and I will stay in the area through the weekend. We need to get a hotel.”

“Ma’am?” The curtain draws back again, a nurse looking in, her expression pinched. There’s a commotion behind her, and Dad pulls the curtain further open to show Cheyenne in the hall with Jess and Shane.

Mom glances at the curtain moving on its own, and the nurse’s confused expression. “Please,” she says quietly. “Let them in. They are—” Her gaze falls to where Pels’s hand lies on top of the sheets. “Something close enough to family that they should be with her.”

People have been talking while Pels was unconscious. Dad looks innocent, and Pels supposes he has to be since without Dax or her, he can’t exactly talk to anyone. But she wouldn’t put it past him to have helped facilitate the conversation starting somehow.

“Please,” she echoes.

The nurse yanks the curtain closed, and sounds are muffled but Pels is certain she’s giving everyone very specific orders for how to behave. Pels clenches her hand, the machines beeping faster as her heart accelerates. She needs to see them more than that one glimpse, needs to know—

“They’re okay,” Dad promises.

It’s hard to believe that for herself until the curtain opens and they drag in two more chairs. Shane sets his on Pels’s other side, and Jess sits further back, arms crossed and lips pressed tight together as if she’s holding herself back. Cheyenne curls up on Mom’s lap like she’s three instead of thirteen.

“If you cause any distress—”

“I’m better if they’re here,” Pels says. She carefully holds up her hand, wincing as the IV pricks her when she twists it to show the ink. “We’re soulmates. It’s a magical thing.”

The nurse’s gaze flicks from her to Jess and Shane, and she sighs. “Fine,” she mutters, yanking the curtain closed around them.

Between the hospital bed, three chairs, all the machinery, four people, and a ghost… the room is full. Too full. But Pels can’t give it up. “I need you to tell me you’re okay. Dad said—and I can see—but….”

Shane lightly places his hand over hers, and the warmth of bees is a comforting buzz under her skin. “We’re surprisingly okay.”

“This guy came out of nowhere around the curve,” Jess says, her voice strangled and tight. “He swung out over the solid line to pass a truck and he and was completely in our lane. I tried to swerve, so he didn’t hit us head on. I think he hit the front, then we were flying and that’s… I can’t really remember.”

Pels looks at Dad.

“I did my best,” he says quietly from where he stands by the curtain. “I tried to make it better. I’m just not—I’m not that good.”

“Dad helped,” Pels says. She nods at him, hoping he’ll keep going, and she echoes his words as he speaks.

“When Jess jerked the wheel, the car started spinning,” Dad says quietly. “I don’t know if you caught gravel or what, but you spun out. The oncoming car struck the front, then the back, and you flipped. Your seatbelt failed, Pels. Your door popped open. You went flying. I couldn’t—I tried….”

Pels takes a breath while Dad fades in place as she watches, his hand the clearest part of him where he grips the curtain tightly.

“I made it into Jess’s car first,” he says quietly. “Kept them safe. I was with you as you landed. I tried to cushion your fall. I tried—” His hands both come up, fingers extended, and Pels can almost feel that in her own hands, like she wants to reach out. “I don’t have the magic that I feel like I should have. I had to catch you on my own. I did my best.”

“It’s okay,” Pels says quickly as soon as she finishes relaying his words. “You did your best. It would’ve been worse if you hadn’t—”

“It wouldn’t have happened at all if you’d just taken the damned detour,” Dad says sharply.

Pels sits there, her mouth hanging open slightly.

She swallows hard. “What’s the point of being an Oracle if nothing makes sense until after it happens?” she mumbles. “I don’t get it. It’s all just too late then.” Maybe it’s a question for Dax and his family, maybe they can help her understand. Dad’s obviously not being clear about it.

“We’re bruised,” Jess says quietly. “I felt—it seemed like we should’ve been worse off, but something held me into my seat, kept my head from hitting the roof when we went upside down. Then it was gone, and I could move again when the car settled. And you were just—you were gone. That stupid seatbelt.”

“The EMTs on scene thought it was a miracle. We couldn’t really explain about your Dad,” Shane says. “My Dad’s impressed. It’s the first time I’ve ever come out of an accident less injured than I should be, rather than more.”

“How’s the other guy?” Pels needs to know that, just like she needs to know about everyone else on the road.

“The driver of the truck is fine. The driver of the car that tried to pass it was taken to the trauma center in Albany, but he was alive. Thankfully he was alone in his car.” Shane’s thumb moves against her skin, gentle and soothing. “We didn’t ask any more questions, honestly. We were far more worried about you. The Healers were with you for a couple hours, but they said you didn’t need surgery. They were able to do what they needed without surgical intervention.”

That doesn’t seem to make sense. “What?”

Dad pulls the curtain and steps out, the curtain falling back in place after his exit.

“Surgeons were unable to get into the room,” Mom says tightly. “I was told after I arrived. They thought you would need surgery—there was a risk of injury to your spine after you were thrown—but somehow they had the impression that Healers needed to be the first line of defense. As it turns out, the damage was more easily reparable by Magic than by traditional surgery. They can’t repair soft tissue damage, so you’ll still have recovery time, but it will be must faster than if it were repaired by invasive measures.”

“I only heard about it after, but I got the impression that the tantrum was emphatic, but subdued,” Jess says, her tone almost light. “Your dad is very protective of you.”

“Yeah.” Pels relaxes, letting the bed take her weight. “He is. But I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. And a little light-headed.”

Shane reaches up with his free hand to touch the bags hanging from the IV. “You’ve got a saline drip, you had one of those sugar solutions for a while, but it’s gone now, and I believe you’ve had medication. That’s probably why you’re light-headed. Now that you’re definitely out of risk for surgery—and you’re awake—maybe we can get someone to bring you some food.”

Her stomach rumbles. “I didn’t get dinner,” she grumbles. “We didn’t get our date.”

“We’ll have another chance to go out.” Shane stands, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Jess and I are going to go see if we’re allowed to bring you something to eat. Is your Dad—?”

Pels shrugs, and oh, ow, that hurts to move like that. She can feel something across the back of her neck, like her shoulders are bruised deeply. “He left. It’s okay, I think maybe Mom and I….” Her voice trails off as she looks at her mother. Cheyenne is still curled on her lap, head on her shoulder, eyes closed as Mom strokes her hair. “We should probably talk.”

“We’ll be back in a bit.” Shane holds out a hand to Jess, their fingers loosely clasped as they exit the small space. Pels half expects Dad to drift back in their wake, but he doesn’t reappear.

It’s just her and Mom and Cheyenne.

There’s a small choked noise, and Pels realizes that Mom is crying.

“Hey.” She tries to leverage herself up onto one elbow, reaching towards Mom. It pulls at her IV and she falls back with a groan because that was all just such a bad idea. “I’m okay,” she says weakly. “As long as I don’t try doing anything stupid, I’m okay.”

“You’re alive because of something I tried to pretend didn’t exist,” Mom whispers. “You’re alive because of him.”

“That’s true.” Pels can’t deny it. “I’ve tried to tell you, but you, and well, Peter—”

“I know.” Mom sounds exhausted. Defeated. “I just couldn’t believe that this could be true. I didn’t know he was Talented, and I didn’t know how it could happen. If he was alive, how could he be with you and I didn’t know? Why did he abandon me? And if he was dead… if he’s dead… it’s still the same question. How is he here, now, with you? Why? It just… doesn’t make any sense, Pels.”

Pels glances at the curtain, but no, they’re still alone. “He’s not here right now,” she answers the question before Mom or Cheyenne could ask. “I think there are some things even he doesn’t really know. I get the impression he’s just with me, and that he was learning how to be who he is while I was growing up. I know what I told you before, and that’s all. And if you never talked about it….”

“Maybe I need to find out more about Ammon Masri,” Mom murmurs. “I’m just not sure how. I never met his family.”

“I think they were local, but they’re gone now. I got that much out of him,” Pels says.

Mom doesn’t look at her, staring at the ground while one hand strokes soothing circles on Cheyenne’s back. “This is my fault,” she whispers. “I need to fix it. You think he’s been with you since you were born?”

“Pretty sure, although I don’t really have great memories of infancy,” Pels says dryly.

Cheyenne snickers.

“I went home,” Mom murmurs. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and my parents took me in, even though I’d been in this Godless place, even though I was pregnant. They took me in, and I didn’t ask questions. I went back to the Church because God loved me when no one else did. God accepted me back.”

Pels bites her tongue; this is not a can of worms she wants to open right now. But she sees how Cheyenne goes stiff, despite Mom’s soothing touch. A moment later, Cheyenne wiggles herself free and moves to the chair Jess abandoned, bringing her feet up to perch her heels on the edge, arms wrapped around her knees.

Mom slowly sits upright, pushing her hair back from her face. “I think I might need to go home,” she says.

“I—”

“To Virginia,” Mom says, as if Pels didn’t start speaking. “To my parents. Where you were born. I don’t know if you even remember—”

“I don’t,” Pels says. It’s a lie. She remembers the place, and she remembers some of the earliest incidences of Dad interfering on her behalf. But her memories of her grandparents are dimmed, buried behind the memories of Peter becoming a part of their lives. They are dark figures in the recesses of her mind, stoic and stern.

She remembers not missing them. She’s never really understood the idea that grandparents are soft and warm and caring. She hasn’t seen hers since she was five.

“But Cheyenne….” Mom’s voice drifts away as she looks at her.

Cheyenne slowly uncurls and lowers her feet to the ground, her hands balled in small fists against her knees. “How much trouble can I get into going to school?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and tight. “I can ask my friends to give me rides. Maybe I can stay with Ashleigh. She’s part of the Church, so Dad can’t be against that, right? And it’d make it easier on him if he doesn’t have to get me to practices and things. He needs time for his Ministry.”

Mom exhales roughly. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cheyenne insists.

“Maybe just think about it. There might be something else.” Pels doesn’t like the idea of leaving Cheyenne alone with Peter, either. She doesn’t trust her stepfather at all, not when it comes to Talent, and not without Mom there to protect her.

“We’ll figure something out,” Mom promises. “We’ll find out answers.”

Sure. Great.

Pels still isn’t sure they’ve even found the right questions.

The curtain rattles, Dad pulling it back as Jess and Shane return. They carry a box with several small cans and juice boxes, along with an assortment of plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

“We didn’t even have to go to the café,” Shane says. He lifts different drinks. “The nurses felt sorry for us and raided their fridge. I’ve got apple juice, cranberry juice, chocolate milk, and ginger ale. The sandwiches are tuna, turkey, egg salad, or cheese. I’ve got condiments separate because apparently everything comes without mayo because we’re healthy.” He drops back into his chair and holds up the box. “You get first choice, Pels.”

“I can eat?” She wiggles her fingers at the box. “Tuna and apple juice. I’m starving.”

Shane lifts the bed so she can sit up, while Jess places the requested sandwich and drink aside. Jess hands out the rest, then turns the box into a makeshift tray for Pels.

It’s just terribly dry tuna salad but it tastes so damned good right about now. She devours half the sandwich before she manages to slow down. Jess silently sets another juice box on her lap when Pels drains the first, and she hovers there for a moment, as if she wants to reach out to her. Pels glances at her wrist—no change to the mark so she assumes that somehow they’ve come through this without touching.

Or if they did touch, somehow nothing changed.

That seems improbable.

Cheyenne vacates the chair so that Jess can sit, instead finding a spot on the floor to sit cross-legged. She yawns widely once she’s done nibbling on half of a cheese sandwich, then tilts towards Mom, her head on Mom’s knee.

Dad steps out of the way as the curtain opens again. The nurse is different, small and round and biting back a small smile. “Hi, I’m just coming on shift and wanted to see if you needed anything,” she says quietly. “Other than something to collect the garbage. I’ll go get a bag and be right back.”

Mom rises quickly, one hand on Cheyenne’s head. Cheyenne blinks and makes a soft noise. “Actually, if you could recommend a hotel, I need to get us settled somewhere.”

The nurse hesitates, gaze flicking between Mom, Pels, and Shane and Jess. “If you’d like to stay in the room with—”

“Yes,” Jess replies quickly.

The nurse says nothing.

“They’re as good as family, magically speaking,” Mom says firmly. “Cheyenne and I drove up, and we need sleep. Now that Pels is awake and I know—” Her voice catches.

“It’s okay,” Pels assures her. “I’ll be fine.” She can feel exhaustion in her bones again, now that she’s fed and secure. The adrenalin of waking is wearing off, and she sinks back, letting the bed take her weight. “But I’d like it if—”

Jess looks so hopeful, her hands clasped tightly together, so tight that her fingers are pale and her freckles bright against the skin. Shane has one hand on the rail of her bed, close to her shoulder.

“I want them to stay,” Pels says quietly. “They’re my soulmates. Literally. I mean, magically. See?” She lifts her wrist just barely off the bed, the nurse’s gaze dropping to the ink displayed.

“I’ll make sure the head nurse knows,” the nurse says gently. “And ma’am, if you and your daughter would like to come with me, we’ll get you a ride to a hotel. You don’t look like you should be driving.”

Cheyenne makes a noise of protest as Mom helps her stand.

“Be safe,” Pels tells them. “I love you.”

Cheyenne’s mumble is almost incoherent, but Mom’s words are distinct as she looks back at Pels. “I love you, too.”

The nurse returns just a moment later with a tall garbage bin, and to show them where the switch is for the main light over Pels’s head. Even with the light off, Pels can still see easily in the near darkness from the lights out on the main floor, outside the curtain.

Dad settles into the chair where Mom had been, while Shane stays put. Jess moves around, cleaning up and taking care not to touch.

“Thank you for staying,” Pels says. Jess gives her a startled look, while Shane carefully tangles his fingers with hers. Pels squeezes Shane’s hand.

“We couldn’t—we just need to know you’re okay,” Jess whispers as she sinks back into her own chair. “I wish….”

Pels knows what she’s asking, but she can’t answer that right now, not when sleep is dragging her back into its clutches. Instead she rolls on one side, her hand still held where Shane can reach her. Dad sits slouched in his chair, head bowed as if he would sleep as well, his arms crossed and legs stretched out. “Thank you,” she whispers, waiting until he glances at her. “For saving them.”

“They’re yours,” Dad murmurs. He leans forward, lightly brushing her hair back from her face. “Of course I’d save them.”

Everyone’s safe, and Dad’s with them, so they’ll all stay that way.

Pels exhales, and lets sleep steal her away.

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #not your guardian angel #phu marked #marked

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

A Match made in Therapy

Summary: JT and Dani know that outside of the Team Bright had very few people in his life. It was them, Gil, his mother, sister, therapist, parakeet, and his serial killer father. His circle of friends was small, but not as small as they seemed to think.

__________________________________________________

“Yo, man you can’t be in here,” JT snapped as a tall, well-dressed man appeared in the doorway of the conference room. The leak of their possible serial killer, seven drowned men found in the same location, deaths ranging eight months, was much too high already and they wanted to keep the story under wraps as long as they could.

“Calm down, JT,” Gil said, mirth tickling his voice, “Matt’s a friend. Plus it’s not like he can see what we’re working on.”

“What do you mean-”

The man, Matt, smirked slightly as Dani’s words dried up in her throat as his white cane tapped over the ground lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. I won’t take up too much of your time, I just heard Gil in here and thought I would say hello while I wait for the administrative desk to retrieve forms I can read.”

“Please tell me you aren’t here for Harriet Ludman,” Gil asked, causing the other man’s lips to twist upward.

“No, Jessica Jones, but I could give your woman a listen if you thought my ‘superpower’ was admissible in court.”

“What?”

He chuckled at JT’s question, “Gil and Mal always said I was like a human lie detector. Always could tell if someone was being truthful.”

Gil snorted, “Also the only lawyer I know with a moral code.”

“Hey,” Matt said with mock hurt, “Foggy Nelson works alongside me in our fight for justice.”

“Uh-huh,” Gil hummed before grinning, “Might want to take a step to the left and cover the door with that cane,”

Matt looked bemused, “Who am I tripping?”

“You’ll see,”

“No, I-” Matt cut himself off with a tilt of his head, “Is that…”

The detectives looked on in confusion as a crooked smile splits his face and he quickly steps back until he finds the doorframe and flattens his back to the left of it, cane crossing the entire doorway just below knee height.

“What are you-“

Gil shushed them, “Just watch,”

“Edrisa’s autopsy is back!” Malcolm called before reaching the door, “It turns out I was right about the vics being dead before being submerGED!”

His words spiked as his legs were swept out from under him, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Dani attempted to hold back a snort as JT cackled openly at the profiler’s misfortune alongside Gil’s fond laughter.

Bright blinked up from the floor as he rolled onto his back, Matt smirking down at him.

“One of these days you’ll have to explain how a profiler can be so unobservant, Mal,” Matt teased lightly as he held out a hand.

“Please tell me you aren’t here for Harriet Ludman,” Malcolm groaned, grasping the offered hand.

Matt smirk grew with mirth, “Can’t say I am.”

Malcolm’s face broke into a wide smile as he pulled the other man into a hug shocking the detectives. Bright wasn’t the type to initiate touch regularly. Sure he would give the occasional arm pat to them, or offer a comforting hand to hold to a distraught family member they were interviewing, but anything past that that wasn’t strictly necessary, someone else had to reach out first.

And yet the embrace between the pair was a level of comfort like they rarely saw in their profiler.

“It’s so good to see you, Mattie ”

“I would return the sentiment but,” he started with a sly grin only for Malcolm to groan and shove him away and towards Gil, who gave a deep chuckle before wrapping an arm around the blind man’s shoulders.

“It is nice to see you two together again,” Gil said, earning a cheeky grin from Matt before he added, “That was not an opening.”

“Yes, it was,” Matt countered.

‘“Not that I don’t enjoy Bright getting knocked on his ass,” JT cut in, “But how do you guys know each other?”

Malcolm was practically bouncing, “Matt and I are childhood friends, we met shortly after the Surgeon's trial.”

“He didn’t judge me for being a walking Dickens’ character, and I couldn’t see that he was the Surgeon’s son, nor did I care anyways so we stuck together,” Matt agreed with a grin, “Gil and Jackie basically adopted both of us after we met.”

“Walking Dickens's character?” JT snorted, “Interesting description.”

“A catholic orphan who was blinded while saving an old man and found his dad murdered,” Malcolm rattled off only to whacked with Matt’s cane, “Ow!”

“Oversharing again, resident. Plus you know what they say about throwing stones.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “They already know about my dad and still put up with me, Dani even said I was a friend! They’re not going treat you like you’re made of glass, Murdock, and if they do I’ll convince Gil to put them both on desk duty. ”

JT startled looking at Malcolm like he just poured coffee on his lap, “What I had to say it allowed for you to get it?”

Malcolm looked confused, “What?”

“I put up with your skinny ass crashing my date with Tally, and you didn’t think we were friends?”

The profiler froze, “Really?”

“Yes, Bright,” the older man huffed, “geeze keep up.”

“Oh…”

“As happy I am that Mal actually managed to make more friends,” Matt cut in sounding entirely sincere, before he pointed an accusatory finger about four inches left of Malcolm’s shoulder, “I want to know why no one told me you were back to New York.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “Ah yes, let me just find the man that changed his number, and moved apartments since I was last in New York.”

Matt pouted, “My law firm is well known enough after the whole Fisk debacle that you could have found me.”

“Fisk?” Malcolm asked with a scrunched brow, earning an eye roll from Matt.

“ Yes, massive kingpin, fist fought some guy in horns named Daredevil? The weirdo brought all the legal stuff to take down Fisk to Foggy and I, ring any bells?” Matt snarked, “It ended a little over four months ago.”

“Ah,” Malcolm winced, “I was… occupied during that time period,”

“What,”

“I was-”

“No,” Matt’s face hardened, his glasses suddenly casting dark shadows over his face, “I heard you. What do you mean you were ‘occupied’?”

Malcolm shot a helpless look at his team only for Gil to raise a brow, “I’m not touching this, you’re the one that woke up Mama Murdock, you can explain.”

“Well, I-”

“Matt,” A blond head poked into the door, What are you doing in here? We’re needed in room 3.”

Malcolm’s panic shift to glee, “Hi Foggy,”

The blond paled, “No,”

“No what?”

“No, you stay away from me murder boy!” he barked, setting the team on edge only for Malcolm to laugh with glee and edge towards him, earning a yelp as he dived behind Matt, shoving holding onto the blind man’s shoulders.

“Ah, come on Foggy,” Matt teased, as he let the other man use him as a shield, “You love Malcolm.”

“I did,” He groaned, “but last time he got near me we ended up with the beer cheese incident.”

“I don’t even want to know,” Gil sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “You really can’t be in here Foggy,”

“Gil!” Foggy grinned, “No wonder Malcolm’s here,”

“I can go places without Gil you know,” Malcolm piped up only to earn a round of snickers around the room.

Matt reached out and stroked the air a few times before successfully patting Malcolm’s shoulder, “Of course you can, Just as long as Jessica is tracking that chip she planted in your arm.”

“Mother didn’t chip me,” Malcolm countered, “I’m a person, not a dog.”

“Maybe she should have,” Foggy snarked, “You’d probably have a few less near-death experiences.”

“Amen to that,” JT mumbled earning two cheeky grins from the pair of lawyers only for Foggy’s eyebrows to jump skyward as he saw one of the pictures posted on the wall of a bloated body.

“Definitely wasn’t supposed to see that,” He groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes, “Matt it’s so gross, it looks like someone blew that guy up with a bicycle pump I’m jealous of your lack of eyes.”

“Eyes still exist, and are still in my head thank you,” He countered with a tone that spoke of how ridiculous he found the statement that he clearly said more often than expected, “But we really should leave, Jessica is waiting.”

Foggy groaned, moving towards the door, “Jones needs to stop breaking fire escapes.”

“Who did what now?” Dani asked looking amused.

Matt smirked, “You represent one vigilante, suddenly all the rest want you to be their lawyer too. Mrs. Jones is one of them.”

“Wait, Jessica Jones, as in the Jessica Jones that works with Luke Cage, and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” Dani asked with surprise, Malcolm’s eyes flashed wide when he heard the list.

Foggy flashed a cheeky grin, “He goes by Daredevil now, but yeah. They’re our clients and we’re late for meeting with our client, so it was nice meeting you all but we should head out,”

“Don’t be strangers,” Gil offered, “But Foggy,”

“Don’t mention anything about what I saw,” He relayed back with a dismissive wave, “I know. I’m already trying to block out whatever happened to that dude from my head, I won’t risk your investigation.”

“We’re not done talking Malcolm,” Matt called as he grabbed onto Foggy’s elbow, “I still need to hear about what had you so preoccupied.”

“I have a feeling we have a lot of catching up to do,” the response made the lawyers pause, “I’d love to hear more about this Daredevil fellow and the other heroes you’ve worked with.”

Matt gave a small smile, “Clearly you don’t know much about them. They’re not exactly heroes.”

“I have a feeling they are.”

#prodigal son #daredevil #matt murdock #malcolm bright #gil arroyo #foggy nelson #Matt and Malcolm are childhood best friends #You can pull that headcanon from my cool dead fingers #Timeline? What Timeline?

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queerchoicesblog · 5 years

Text

A Matter Of Trust (OH, Harper x F!MC)

Hey lovelies, my writing schedule is seriously messed up atm but I wrote this: since the pager/sabotage thing was hardly mentioned in the latest chapter...here's an alternative version. I truly loved last week chapter (the best so far, to me at least!), the pager sabotage was just ‘perfect’ for some more Harper and Aurora screen time 😉

Disclaimer: This fic contains a couple of curse words (I guess) and references to my previous Harper x F!MC fic One Coffee And A Life Lesson. Also, when reading this, please remember that it's fiction: things most likely work differently in the real world!

Word Count: 2187 (yep, loooong fic)

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @bbaba-yagaa @abunchofbadchoices @melodyofgraves @silverhawkenzie @bhavf @crazypeanat @strangerofbraidwood @kennaxval

Harper Tag: @korrasamixlover

________________________

Meredith was sitting at the cafeteria with her friends, her lunch barely untouched when her pager started beeping.

"Oh my, it's working again! Well...at least it's good news" Sienna commented, flashing a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring but couldn't hide her concern.

"Yeah..." Meredith sighed checking the name of the sender.

Sienna squeezed her arm as the intern's face fell.

"Shit"

"Trouble's in paradise?" Landry asked unimpressed, stabbing his salad.

"You're not helping, man" Elijah bumped his arm then turned to his friend. "How bad, Mere?"

Meredith grimaced and began standing.

"Dr. Emery wants to see me in her office. Now"

"But it's absurd! You didn't turn your pager off, sweetie!" Sienna winced.

"You sure, M.? It could happen even to the best of us-" Landry commented before a slice of bread hit him in the forehead.

On the other side of the table Sienna was giving him a pissed face.

"They're right, Landry" Jackie said out of nowhere, taking a sip of her energy drink.

Then she addressed Meredith:

"I'm sure it's nothing, M. Don't worry" she said, a smile on her face.

Meredith couldn't tell if it was genuine but decided to let it go that time. She took her leave, knowing best than to keep anyone waiting that day, especially the Chief of Medicine.

When she was about to cross the exit she heard Jackie again:

"Don't tell me you're truly worried for her? She's Dr. Ramsey's protege, she's basically the new Aurora-"

She stopped and clenched her fists. It was right then: they were already coming after her. She swallowed back her anger and marched towards the elevator, her heart in turmoil.

When she arrived at the right floor, she immediately asked directions to a nurse and got there in no time. The door was closed and inside she could hear Harper speaking.

"Video conference with Seoul Hospital neurosurgery team, but she should be almost done"

Meredith barely refrained herself from jumping at the sound of a familiar voice. She turned to see Aurora sitting on a nearby armchair looking at her with curiosity.

"Forgive me if I ask, but...what are you doing here, Valentine?"

Meredith briefly explained the situation, surprised the other intern hadn't heard the gossip yet. It seemed like the type of news that would spread at the speed of light.

Aurora took a moment to process the information then did something unexpected. She stood and gave the colleague a sympathetic and pained smile.

"They're after you already? It must have been the Miami conference..."

"But I'm innocent! I would never do something like that...and I would never do something like that to anyone on purpose to get a goddamn fellowship! I get that the stakes are high but I...this is not who I am" the intern noted frowning.

Aurora nodded thoughtfully.

"I don't know if it can help, but I'm 100% sure they would have done even worse with me if I wasn't the Chief's nephew"

Meredith met her gaze and the Emery girl shrugged.

"It's all I am to them. Maybe to you too"

The intern opened her mouth to say something but was cut short by the sound of heels nearby and the door of Harper's office finally opened.

"Oh good, you're both here. Aurora please be patient and wait a little more, I need to talk to Dr. Valentine first" she said in her usual calm and professional tone.

Dr. Emery stepped aside and gestured the intern to join her. Meredith took a deep breath that completely failed to calm her down and entered the woman's office.

Harper closed the door behind her and walked to her desk as the intern stood in the middle of the room, fumbling with her hands. The words of Jackie and Aurora still echoed in her mind.

"So, Dr. Valentine, I'm afraid you know why I asked you to come here"

"I do, ma'am'

The Chief of Medicine took a seat and skimmed a sheet laying on top of an open folder.

"I received a complaint about you from Dr. -let me see- Fitzpatrick. She claimed that you didn't answer your pager yesterday morning. I'm sure you know that it's a very important part of the duty of any intern, this is not an office job and you all, we all must be ready to help a colleague or assist a patient when we're paged. A hospital relays on teamwork, I cannot stress this enough"

"I know and I strongly agree with you, ma'am. That's my...personal philosophy too" the intern commented, cutting herself short as she realized that the Chief was looking at her: probably she wasn't supposed to interrupt or share her take at that very moment. She also let her speech fade as she perceived her own words and beliefs as shallow after the latest happenings and the reckless competition for the fellowship.

Harper put the sheet back into the folder.

"So, what happened, Dr. Valentine? May I hear your version of this unfortunate event? Please be as detailed as possible"

Meredith took a deep breath and explained everything trying to be as accurate as possible: her morning routine, her journey from home to the hospital, the assigned morning rounds, the outburst of Dr. Fitzpatrick, how she immediately checked and found her pager turned off despite she was sure she had turned it on as soon as she put her white coat on in the locker room.

"That's...that's all, I guess. I perfectly understand that I have no concrete evidence to support my statements and it's just an intern's word against Dr Fitzpatrick's" she frowned as she was done.

Her situation didn't look good, she was aware of it. An awkward silence lingered into the office as Harper pondered her words. I'm so screwed, there's no way she would believe me, Dr Fitzpatrick is an attendant, I'm just the Rookie..., she moped inside her head.

Her train of thoughts was cut short as, out of the blue, Dr. Emery stood and circled her desk to walk closer to Meredith. When she was right in front of the intern she slightly leaned back, resting her hands on the table at both sides of her for support.

"Dr. Valentine, let me tell you this. Doubt is an uncomfortable thing in our field of work, especially for a surgeon. Imagine being in the middle of an operation and starting second guessing yourself. Wondering whether you're doing the right thing or you can trust the people around you. The secret of success in an operational room relies not only of the mastery of the surgeon but also on the trustworthiness of the team. Being the Chief of Medicine is not so different: I need to know I can trust the doctors I entrust the lives of the patients we admit, the nurses taking care of them, the paramedics jumping on the ambulance when someone calls the 911 and so on. Everyone. I cannot afford the luxury of doubt, so" she said looking at Meredith right in the eye "I must ask you again: did you voluntarily turn your pager off yesterday?"

Meredith had never noticed how deep Harper's hazel eyes were until that very moment. She kept catching glimpses of her along the corridors and the halls of Edenbrook and even when she had a chance to be closer to her during their "breakfast date" she was too shaken and tired to pay them attention. But now it was different. Now "the best neurosurgeon of her generation" was standing in front of her leveling her gaze with hers. A Medusa gaze, the intern thought. But not in a bad way: her eyes were just gems gleaming in a tantalizing, inquisitive, somehow fascinating way.

She clenched her jaw and did her best not to lose herself into them as she would have most likely done under different circumstances. In another time, in another life.

"No, Dr. Emery. I didn't turn it off. I would never"

The Chief of Medicine's eyes lingered into hers, searching for the truth. After a moment, she lowered them and sighed.

"I believe you, Valentine"

She met her gaze once more, but now it was less inquisitive and more...pleading?

"And would you also tell me if something is off with Dr. Ramsey? With you or...in general?"

Meredith stiffened, clearly not expecting this: it didn't go unnoticed by Harper who was about to speak again when someone knocked insistently at her door, despite Aurora's protests.

The door unceremoniously opened before the Chief could even tell the visitor to wait.

"The nurses told me Dr. Valentine was here" Dr. Ramsey explained without apologizing for the sudden interruption.

"Speaking of the devil" Harper sighed in frustration before addressing the newcomer. "Hello to you too, Ethan. The nurses were right, weren't they? May I ask what are you doing here?"

"I need the assistance of Dr. Valentine during rounds."

"All of a sudden? Can't you cover for her literally five minutes more, we were in the middle of a-"

"Leave her be, Emery. This is ridiculous!"

"This is not ridiculous and she's with me now!" Harper remarked, narrowing her brows.

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Ramsey appeared and the Chief was clearly fighting not to lose her temper. Meredith replayed her last words "she's with me" in her head. If the situation wasn't that tough to make such thought inappropriate she would have smiled to herself for the possessive nuance that sentence could take in a less...formal context.

"I received a formal complaint and it's my duty to find out what happened" Harper explained as calmly as possible.

"Yeah I've heard about the pager. But c' mon, this is nonsense: Dr. Valentine is a brilliant intern, she's at the top of your list and you would think that-"

"I think nothing, Ethan! Dr. Valentine could have been even at the bottom of the list, it wouldn't have changed the fact that I must inquire"

Harper sighed in frustration.

"I'm not a monster, Ethan. I'm just doing my job and you know that"

Ethan stiffened and Meredith got the feeling that it wasn't the first time he heard that. He was about to answer that when the Chief silenced him.

"And no, you can't vouch for her. You know this is against the rules. Anyway" she turned back to the intern "we were done here. Dr. Valentine, I'm inclined to believe that you're innocent but sadly, as there is no evidence to support your statements, my hands are tied. A further investigation will be conducted and in the meantime, I'm forced to assign your weekly performance a penalty as a formal complaint, unless proven preposterous, can't be ignored"

"I understand, Dr. Emery. Thank you for listening to-"

"I will present a formal complaint too if that's what it takes, cause this is a farçe, Emery! This is blatant sabotage, this is the result of your brilliant idea to set a competition for that fellowship!" Ethan protested cutting Meredith off.

Harper inhaled sharply to keep calm.

"Fine, Ethan, file a complaint and bring me concrete proofs. My door is always open"

A forced smile appeared on her face before she dismissed the intern.

"You can go, Valentine."

Ethan threw his boss an angry glare and moved away from the threshold. As Meredith turned to follow him, she felt Harper's slender fingers brushing over her hand, out of Dr. Ramsey's view. The intern quickly looked back to see the Chief mouthing at her, a pained expression on her face:

"Come find me if you need to talk"

She nodded and followed Ethan who started walking impossibly fast towards the elevator as soon as she left the room. She struggled to keep pace and almost forgot to greet Aurora. She wanted to tell her she didn't see her merely as the Emery girl but when she turned back, Harper's office was already closed and Aurora nowhere to be seen. Meredith sighed and asked Ramsey:

"So what do we have today?"

"Hm?" he seemed lost in his thoughts.

"The rounds you required my assistance with?"

"Oh no, I managed to finish them already" he revealed as the elevator's door shut in front of them.

"We're headed to my office now" he added pressing the button down. "It won't be long, I don't want people to get suspicious but there's a major breakthrough in Naveen's case we need to discuss"

He lied to Harper...and to me? Again?, the intern felt a pang of disappointment and anger.

"Forgive my bluntness, Dr. Ramsey, but why can't we discuss it with Dr. Emery instead of going behind her back? She was a colleague of Naveen too and she's an outstanding doctor-"

Ethan briskly turned and gave her a stern look.

"I'm gonna pretend you never asked such an absurdity, Rookie"

Then an obstinate silence lingered between them until they reached Ramsey's office. Once there he started discussing the latest secret tests' results, while Dr. Valentine wondered if it wasn't time to let Harper know about all this.

#open heart #choices fanfic #harper emery #harper x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play

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petitprincess1 · 5 years

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Writing prompt 15! I love your fanfic! It's really good and have a nice day!

I don’t know if you’re even still around, but thank you so much for the prompt anyway.

“I brought the snacks, who we murdering tonight?”

Warning: Violence and very slight gore

Slug sat on the edge on the top of a roof, red strapped jacket flowing in the light breeze, as he casually placed on earbuds, while typing away at his computer. A small satellite attached to it slowly moved back-and-forth as it searched for his target, picking up random muffled voices that was located in a warehouse about a couple of yards away. He impatiently groaned at each time a sound was picked up and then quickly turned to static just seconds later. Slug mumbled to himself as he reached into his jacket to casually eat a lollipop, “Come on, come on. I wanna go home before dinner today. Just be stupid and reveal yourselves.”

As he was speaking to himself, there was movement right behind him. A figure climbed up right behind him upon the roof, sauntering towards him with a slow, confident walk. The figure pulled something out from behind their back as a deranged smile broke across their face, giggling quietly but manically to themselves. The bag wearing scientist still had no idea who was approaching as he gave a few smacks to his computer, making disgruntled and impatient sounds at the device. The figure inched closer to Slug, raised a few objects above their head, and shouted, “Alright, I brought the snacks! Who’re we murdering!?”

Slug made a loud yelp as he almost fell off the roof only to be caught by a unicorn hoodie wearing girl with pink bangs and a long, poofy blue ponytail. The girl’s horn was glowing a pastel pink, same as the aura around the scientist, as she levitated him back onto the roof. The girl blepped at him and winked at him, while placing down the bags filled with various snacks and drinks. Slug sighed harshly, looking around for his lollipop to just find it all the way on ground below him. He turned to her and scolded, “Goddammit, Clemencia! What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Clemencia giggled, her golden eye and hazel twinkling with mirth, “Heehee, yeah! So, watcha doin’?”

She asked as she flopped onto her stomach on the concrete roof as if it were just any other plush carpet, lazily kicking her feet in the air. The scientist shook his head, taking out another piece of candy, and responded, “Nothing that concerns you. This is my mission. You already had your own.”

Clem whined loudly and rolled onto her back, complaining, “Yeah, but it was like suuuuuper easy! The man confessed to having committed those serial arsons after I broke like one kneecap! I was so mad that I sprained his other leg, broke all of his fingers, and then drew unicorns all over his face!”

“Oh…did you use the glitter markers?”

“Nope…not even the scented ones!”

Slug winced at her marker choice, realizing that she might not be in one of her best moods. He looked over at her and watched as a cartoonish storm cloud formed above her head. It even had an angry face on it. He sighed and gave in, “Fine. You can come he-”

He wasn’t able to finish as Clemencia tackle-hugged him, knocking them completely off the roof and sending them both to the pavement below, along with the computer. Slug let out a high-pitched scream as the sidewalk came closer and closer each second, while Clem just kept letting out howls of laughter. Slug watched as his computer practically fell to pieces upon impact of hitting the ground, covering his eyes so he doesn’t succumb to such a fate.

…

But nothing came. At first, he thought death merciful on him and just let him go out quick and painless. That quickly changed when he heard Clem’s quieted giggles and then uncovered his eyes to find themselves behind a bunch of boxes. Clemencia was watching someone speak to another person, as well as the sound of pacing. The person groaned, “You said that he would be here the moment we made that video!”

Another person, possibly the victim, corrected, “No. I said that he might be here. It’s not my fault that you don’t lis-GAH!”

Slug jumped at hearing the painful groan and peeked out along with Clemencia, seeing a hero strapped to a chair, blood dripping out from her mouth and somewhat bruised, and a petty looking convict with a crowbar that was the one pacing around. The convict scoffed, “You really need to learn to shut that smartass mouth of yours, don’t forget that your life is on the line here.”

The victim that was tied up in a chair spat out the blood on the floor and let out a bitter chuckle, “Oh, please, you won’t kill me. You wouldn’t exactly get what you want if he ended up showing up just to see a mangled corpse. I don’t even think he would even allow you to go to jail if he saw that, don’t mistake every hero for being on the side of justice. Some want revenge just as much as any villain…”

The convict stiffened up after hearing such a thing and then quickly pretended to not give a shit as he went, “Tch, like I give a shit.”

Slug went back to hiding behind the boxes, thinking Clem did the same, and relayed to her, “Alright, that seems to be Cascade, who is the sidekick to Tempest, and she was kidnapped and forced to make a video where she asked to make Tempest to rob a bank, steal a few artifacts, and even take a Medusa ray from Black Hat’s manor. He had to relay information after each task and if he says nothing then she will become broken beyond repair…whatever the fuck that means. Anything can be repaired if you have the right surgeon….and steal a couple of organs. Anyway, we can do whatever we want to the villain, but we have to make sure Cascade gets out in one piece and we have no idea if there’s any more people so-”

“LEEEERRROOOOOYYYYY JENKINSSSS!!!!” Clemencia suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs and then jumped off of the 12ft tower of boxes towards the convict, who barely had time to react before he tackled down to the ground by the feral unicorn. Slug blinked at the whole thing before sighing, “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to do it.”

He saw three more thugs come out with assorted weapons right behind Clem, readying to jump her. Slug instantly jumped down, from a safer height, and landed right in the middle of the convicts, doing a hero landing. The three looked at one another before one of them with a barbed wire bat ran straight for him. Slug quickly stood and took out a ray gun, shooting it at the man. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then the man let out an ear-piercing scream as his body seemed to start turning into mush and his slowly began fall out of his mouth as copious amounts of blood poured out of his mouth like a beautiful waterfall. Finally, his screams ended as body fell to the floor with a wet slap as more blood leaked from his orifices.

Slug placed the bone-liquifying gun into his jacket and the moment he did, a second thug kicked his legs out from underneath him, sending him down to the ground. She then lifted up the axe in her hand and swung it down, making him have to quickly rolling out of the way. The woman didn’t even bother giving him time to recover as she kept swinging the axe at him. Slug dodged each strike with ease, but knew he couldn’t do that forever. As he was dodging away each strike, he looked back at Clemencia and saw her teleporting around the target, while he tried to swing at her with the crowbar as much as could. She just giggled and taunted him as she popped in-and-out of existence. Slug called, “Clemencia, a little help!”

The moment Clem stopped teleporting was the moment their target took his opportunity. Clemencia turned her head to look at the scientist and, before she could do anything, a crowbar smacked the back of her head, causing her to stumble a little. Cascade stared in complete shock and worriment for the convict as he gave a victorious chuckle, waiting for the unicorn witch to fall unconscious. However, instead of falling over, she slowly looked up at the convict, who stiffened up and mumbled, “How the hell-”

He wasn’t able to finish as Clem’s horn glowed a hot pink aura as a pastel blue and pink battle axe conjured in her hands. The man was only able to blink as the unicorn witch suddenly teleported a few feet in front of him and let out a battle cry as she swung down her axe right through the man’s upper arm. A loud crackling and snapping sound filled the air that could only be described as viciously tearing off the leg of a raw whole chicken, along with a blood-curdling scream.

The woman that was attacking Slug stopped and stared in horror as her, possibly, boss’s arm got hacked at by the infuriated Clemencia. While she was distracted, Slug snatched the axe from her, causing her to quickly bring her attention back to him. Not wasting any time, the scientist swung the axe at the woman’s stomach, slicing it up and digging it further into the deep wound. It caused blood to bubble and flow out, as well as a few guts to fall out. The woman had a frozen look of horror and pure anguish on her face before she fell onto Slug, who groaned in disgust and placed her onto the cold, concrete floor.

Slug walked over to Clemencia, who was still slicing at the convict’s corpse, creating multiple lacerations along his body. The scientist placed a hand on the unicorn witch’s shoulder and told her, “I think he’s dead, Clem.”

Clemencia turned to look at Slug and gave an innocent head tilt, making one almost not notice that her clothes were splattered with blood, as well as a few droplets on her face, and not to mention the giant bloodied axe she was holding. She looked back down at the slashed up corpse and blew a raspberry at him, “Awww, poo! I wanted to play more.”

Something clattering on the ground caught the two’s attention as they looked at the third guy, who had dropped his weapon on the ground and was sprinting towards the exit. Clem giggled quietly as she got down on all fours to chase after him, but Slug stopped her as he took out a blowgun and blew something at the man as he ran away. He told Clem as he showed a blinking dot on his phone, “Tracked him. Now you can play with him later after this.”

Clem clapped her hands and squealed, “Thankies~~!”

“Now, let’s get you out of here, Cascade.”

They turned to the bruised sidekick, who was staring at them as if they were insane. Cascade whimpered, “You…You guys just…I mean…Are you two even heroes?”

The blood covered unicorn girl and the slightly sliced up, gun-toting scientist looked at each other and then shrugged, “Meh.”

If you want to give me anymore prompts, then just click here

#writing #writing prompts #prompt #heroic #heroic au #villainous #villainous au #slug #dr slug #clemencia #heroic clemencia #heroic slug #villainos #villanos #vilainos #vilanos #writers on tumblr #my writing

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