#and then we’re giving her some meds at 10

[singlethread]

Okay I get to be cozy in bed for just over an hour now

#checked in on our cat this morning and did some charting #and then we’re giving her some meds at 10 #and then hopefully premeding for surgery at noon

[gretavangroupie]

Errant

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!

JOSH POV

You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it. 

“It’s looking like the perforation is healing, but I’m going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. You’ll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.” He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. “Just be sure you aren’t drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.”

You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink. 

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing. 

Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. It’s eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriend’s car. 

Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once you’re close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.

“How was it?” she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.

“Well, it was fine.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.” 

She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesn’t sing in the car is when she’s upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.

“What’s wrong?” 

She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers. 

“You know it’s Valentine’s day, right?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You’ve never put much stock in the holiday and you didn’t think she did either. The last two years, you hadn’t ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you weren’t around.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together and we’re spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacy…”

“Oh, so you’re mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?” you ask, a little defensive now. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh. I’m just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.” She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, it’s a little condescending.

“It’s a made up holiday anyway. I’ve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didn’t think you did either.” You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.

“It’s not about that. You’re not getting it.” she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.

“Listen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I don’t really know what else you want from me.” you bite back. You’ve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest. 

“I didn’t even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.” she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.

“So you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.” 

“I just don’t understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!” she says, her voice raising a bit. “You didn’t take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive… I just don’t appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentine’s day and all I’m doing is driving Miss Daisy.” 

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.” 

You know you’re about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.

“I thought I was going to spend my Valentine’s day getting bitten and scratched by your brother’s awful fucking cat, but now that you’re all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while you’re miserable and in pain, and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

“You act like I’m home on some vacation… I have a work function tomorrow even if I’m not out at the shows, so–”

“Are you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that you’re home? I guess I’m the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.” She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way she’s driving like a maniac.

“Look, it’s not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. It’s supposed to be nice. It’s a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.” 

You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word “date” appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.

“Come on. I missed you and I feel like shit and you’re… you’re all prickly. Can’t we just have a nice night in? I’ll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.”

She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force. 

“Okay, okay…” she relents, leaning in to you. 

“I love you. You’re still my Valentine, right?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means you’re in the clear. 

“I guess so. You didn’t even ask me.” 

You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her. 

“It was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.” you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up. 

“Oh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.” she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently. 

—

HER POV

You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual. 

“Hey baby, you feel any better?” you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion. 

“No. Not really, but it’s fine.” he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, “You want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?” he asks, running a hand over his messy curls. 

“I would love to, but are you sure you want to?” you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out. 

“Yeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.” he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Um, I don’t know, twenty minutes or so?” you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table. 

“Alright, I’ll be up there to change in a minute.”

You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that you’d need one since he wasn’t even supposed to be home for Valentine’s day this year. 

You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle. 

You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. You’re spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror. 

“Wow, uh, you know it’s freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.” he says, adjusting his sleeves. 

“Yeah, I’ll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.” you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light. 

“You sure you want to wear heels?” he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.

You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. “Yeah, why not?”

He throws his hands up, “Just asking…”

You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you. 

With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you. 

“Hey,” he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. “I’m sorry about earlier… I just have a short fuse when I’m in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s– it’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re here now, right?” you say, offering him a lopsided smile.

He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight. 

You’re quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Phil’s Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure you’re seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car. 

“Phil’s…” you question, turning to look at him. 

“...Yeah? Did you want something else…?” he asks, as if annoyed you’d question his decision.

“You said– You– I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!” you shout. 

“I’m not getting a sandwich. I’m getting soup. You can get whatever you want.” he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door. 

A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but you’re still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentine’s day date. 

“Josh…” you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater. 

“What? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah! I didn’t think we were going to fucking Phil’s, Josh! It’s Valentine’s Day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot?!”

He clicks his tongue, and looks around. “Perfect, then we have the place to ourselves.”

Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.

He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What can I get ‘cha?”

“Hey man, can we uh– I’ll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.” 

“It’s ahh, it’s Chicken Tortilla.” he answers. 

“Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “Babe?” he murmurs, wanting you to order. 

“Okay, I’ll do a Cuban, extra pickles.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He nods, “Outta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.” 

“Okay I’ll do the Italian then.” you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.

“You want that hot or cold?” he asks. 

“Hot.”

“Think our press is down, but I can check.” he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.

“It’s down, is cold fine?” he asks, him and Josh both staring at you. 

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, fine.”

“$17.97.” he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t tell him it’s to go. You don’t care if we take it home, right? It’s a little loud in here.” he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.

You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didn’t care that you weren’t at a fancy restaurant. You didn’t care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didn’t care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didn’t subscribe to the holiday. But that didn’t mean you didn’t. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.

He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You can’t help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how you’re feeling as you stand right next to him.  

“You wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?” he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket. 

“What movie?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I don’t know, a documentary? We can find something, I’ll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.”

You huff out a laugh, “Of course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.”

“What’s your deal tonight, Y/N, Jesus…”

You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.

—

He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll start the fireplace.”

You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room.  

You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. It’s no time at all before you’re popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass. 

He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. “Really? You’re serious…”

“Serious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.” you quip, swallowing down the first sip.

“You’re really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I can’t have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?” he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.

“What am I playing at? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that just because you can’t drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!” you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have. 

He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. “Whatever, I’m gonna take this to the couch.”

You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. 

The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, ‘Kubrick by Kubrick’ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.

“Josh, really…” you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“I don’t want to get too invested in anything, I’m gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.” he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you.  

“Can’t we watch something, I don’t know… With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we haven’t seen a hundred times?” you barter, talking over the intro music.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy being home for once?” he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.

Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, you’re positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.

“For once…” you breathe, biting your tongue.  “Sure, sure. You uh– you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.” you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs. 

Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you don’t.

You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains. 

You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldn’t live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.

You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didn’t really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders. 

His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

It’s not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a  gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. “I know you’re not asleep, my love…”

Knowing you’re caught, you turn softly to your back, “No, you don’t know. I could have been.”

A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, “Not true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.”

“Well maybe I want to tonight.” you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him. 

“Josh…” you scold. 

“What, baby…” he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. “I miss you…”

“You didn’t an hour ago!” you sneer.

“Yes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day I’m away from you. That’s why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when I’m home?” he pauses, “Every night like this?”

“Josh, I just– Tonight was… Well the entire day, really, was rough. I’m not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.” you answer.

“Well that’s okay, you can just blow me instead.” he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder. 

“Oh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!” you mock. “You really have earned it, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself!” you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. “Try that instead!”

“Goddamn you’re being such a bitch!” he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand. 

“Yeah! Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Josh!” you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs. 

—

JOSH POV

It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least that’s what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.

You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Phil’s. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldn’t see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted. 

You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, you’d let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, you’d spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home. 

Unless…

A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work. 

—

You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. It’s nearly noon and you know he’s in there, but whether or not he’s awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking. 

You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door. 

“If you’re on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldn’t cover.” he says, raising a brow.

“Can I not come visit my twin?” you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.

“No, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were ‘Fuck off, don’t call me, I’ll see you in three days’, but I could be mistaken.” he says, shutting the front door. 

“Listen…” you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.

He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. There’s something different about him, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him. 

“Why do you look different…” you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.

“I don’t.” he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you. 

You cut your eyes at him, you can tell he’s not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with. 

“I need a favor.” you say, cutting right to the chase. 

He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue. 

“I need you to go to this event tonight in my place, I–”

“No.” he shouts, cutting you off. 

“Jake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I can’t if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.” you explain, giving him the shortened version. 

“No. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.” Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest. 

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t fucking dire.” You plead. “I fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please Jake…”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didn’t fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day you’re gonna fuck around and lose her for good.” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. “Hold on, you two fought on Valentine’s day? Fuckin’ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?”

“No, I… Didn’t get her flowers.” you mumble, hoping he didn’t hear you. 

“Okay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No, I mean, well, kind of.” you mumble again. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Where did you take her Josh.” he demands, crossing his arms again. 

“We went to Phil’s…And got…To-go…” you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds. 

“The fucking sandwich place Josh, you’re kidding me…” he spits, starting to pace around the room. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...” you retort, knowing this isn’t helping your case.

He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, “Fuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didn’t she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasn’t she been catering to your ass since we’ve been back?”

“Yeah.” you answer. 

“And you didn’t plan a single thing at all…” he confirms. 

“Correct.” you say, over enunciating the ‘T’.

“Asshole.”

“Okay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.” you say, gesturing with your hands. “So go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I have plans.” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Plans?! With who? You don’t leave your house!” you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. “Jesus, I always forget you have that thing.”

“Yeah, I’m not keeping it.” he says, shaking his head. “And it’s none of your business. You’re going to that event. The label doesn’t care if you’re in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who they’re gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you don’t have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and you’ll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.”

“Fuck…” you sigh, laying down across his couch. “I just don’t think it’s gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.” you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics. 

You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jake’s from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone. 

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, pacing around his living room. 

“No. Guess fuckin’ not. What are you getting into today?” you ask, relaxing back into the cushions. 

“I have… some errands to run. And a few other things.” he says, dismissively. 

“Errands and a few other things? Who the fuck are you…” you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.

“I was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?” he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.” you answer, getting more comfortable. 

“Goddamnit, Josh… Okay, but you’re leaving when I do.”

—

The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands. 

“Well, good morning.” he says, his tone a little snipped. 

“Shit, what time is it?” you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck. 

“Yeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.” he says, making his way into the kitchen. 

“Alright, I’m outta here, good luck with your… plans…” you smirk, making your way to the door. 

“Don’t need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.” he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you. 

—

HER POV

As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours it’s been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you don’t really count that as a conversation. You hadn’t actually exchanged words since your argument before bed. 

The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low it’s barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville. 

As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. He’s in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you weren’t so upset with him, you’d kiss him square on the lips.

“I know you don’t want to be here. Just… at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?” He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice. 

You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door he’s holding open for you.

The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You don’t recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once you’re a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice. 

“Heeeeey guys!” 

Sam’s arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.

“Hi Sammy,” you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you aren’t getting along. It’s nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off. 

The line moves again and you’re finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half. 

“Can I take your coat, sir?” she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.

“Ohoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!” he says, like he’s some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.

“And now you’re trying to give me your number?” he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you can’t help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and he’s already managed to make your night worse.

Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you. 

His eyes scan over your figure- you’re in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where you’re standing. Sam isn’t listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow. 

It’s then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst you’ve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesn’t care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than he’s shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He can’t help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Josh’s gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Josh’s eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, “Jesus Christ.” and look away without giving him a reaction. 

The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table you’ve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack. 

“I’ve never seen that dress. Where’d you get it?” he asks, giving you another once-over now that he’s closer.

“You sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.” you answer dryly. “Or was that your assistant too?” 

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing he’s just dug himself a little bit deeper. 

“Come to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while you’re away?” 

He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice. 

“Do we have to do this here?” he pleads. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?” 

You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, “Champagne,” to Josh. 

He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, who’s giving you a nervous smile. 

“Sorry. It’s been… a rough few days.” You confess. “This ear thing has turned him into a jackass.” 

“Oh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.” Sam says, commiserating. 

“So it’s not just me?!” You laugh, Sam joining you. 

“No no. Not just you.”

You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. You’re in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes. 

“Oh. Thank you!” He says, a little caught off guard, but he’s Sam, and he’s friendly, and you know he’s going to let you get away with it. 

Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. He’s noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and it’s game on. 

The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. It’s obvious that he’s the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions. 

“Did you trim your hair?” You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man you’ve never seen in your life.

“Yeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. I’m surprised you noticed.” 

“Of course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.” Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesn’t notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. He’s too easy. 

“Why don’t we go find our table for dinner, hm?” Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table. 

“You heard him. C’mon, Sammy boy.” 

You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm. 

You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Josh’s back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out. 

As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but it’s mostly quiet as some music plays. 

“How’s the chicken?” Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding. 

“Really good. And the fish?” You ask politely, but you don’t really care. 

“Delicious. Do you want a bite?” He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils. 

“Oh, no. No thanks.” You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.

“Do you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.

Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesn’t get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding. 

“Oh, that’s really good. I should have gotten that.” He says, talking with his mouth full. It’s then that the stranger next to Sam interjects. 

“How long have you two been together?” She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. It’s such a distraction that you don’t hear what Sam says to her. 

Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes. 

“Can you stop? I get it. You made your point.” Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes. 

“What point, Josh?” 

“You’re flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think you’re dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?” 

Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up. 

“I’m gonna go get some air…” he says, departing from the table like it’s on fire. 

“I’m not flirting with him. I’m just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?” You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer. 

“Cut it out.” He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like you’re some kind of dog. 

“Fuck you, Josh.” You’re not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went. 

As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but he’s still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent that’s doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively. 

It’s quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile that’s more of a grimace, though you know him and know that it’s not his intention. 

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know that, right?” He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it. 

“I feel like I do. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“You two are a match made in hell,” he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “But I can’t imagine him with anyone else.” 

You roll your eyes. Lately you’ve been feeling like Josh doesn’t even want to be with you anymore, but it’s not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since he’s hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer. 

“Can I have a drag of that?” You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You know how he is.” Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks it’s okay to smoke is not cigarettes. 

“Just one.” You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He can’t help but smile at you in return. 

“Don’t even touch it. He’ll smell it on your hands.” He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale. 

Within seconds, it’s pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Sam’s thick Michigan accent as he whines, “OWWWW!” your eyes shooting open. 

“I will break every bone in your fuckin’ hand if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.” Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes. 

Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, “Jesus Christ.” before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door.  

“And you.” Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. “Josh, I’m–”

“Oh, it’s a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.” His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. “Get your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.” he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd. 

You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door. 

Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body. 

“Oh, so you can listen.” he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering. 

“What, are you cold in that slutty little dress?” he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. “Seemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.”

He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and you’re a little taken aback. You’ve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it. 

“Josh!” you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that. 

“What has gotten into you, Y/N?! You think– You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?” he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.” you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right. 

“Oh, fuck offff…It’s not the pain meds, it’s you! You’re making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!” he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger. 

He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side. 

He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville. 

“Josh, I–”

“No. Silence. Don’t say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?” he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice. 

You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth. 

“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldn’t wait.

Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, he’s still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so you’re forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows you’ve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car. 

You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels. 

He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic. 

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, Josh. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?” you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. “Yeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?”

“Steal my spotlight?” he responds, scoffing. It’s clear you hit a nerve there. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.”

“I know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. He’s got his own career now.” you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know he’s about to lay into you for that.

“You should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.” he snaps, his voice raising. “You know, there’s a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesn’t spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?” 

You don’t like the direction he’s taking this, and you’re realizing you may have pushed him a little too far. 

“I could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?” 

“So do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow. 

“But you won’t, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you don’t speak to them for days at a time when you’re writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday… and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you can’t be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one texting me from your phone, too!”

He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. “That is not true, and you know it!”

“But it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that you’ll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.”

“Dare me?” he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear. 

“I don’t know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldn’t say I’d be surprised with how you’ve been acting lately.” you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house. 

“How I’ve been acting lately?” he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.

“Yeah! Like I’m such a burden to bear. Like you’d rather I wasn’t here. I’m practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.”

You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isn’t one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.

“Is that what this is about? You’re still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you haven’t noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you won’t stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!” That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you. 

“It’s not about your money and it’s not about me having to help you. It’s about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesn’t even phase you anymore?”

Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so he’s on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.

“And you thought…” he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. “You thought the way to get me to care… was to behave like a little slut?”

The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that he’s not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing. 

“I–”

“You know what I think…” he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. “I think that I’ve been gone too long…” his breath is hot on your cheeks. “I think you’re due for an attitude adjustment.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. “Yeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, don’t I sweetheart?”

The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out. 

“S’matter, baby? Nothin’ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? I’m right, aren’t I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?” he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face. 

“Go ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom. 

The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but you’re starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.

You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t care how long or how often he’s away…he just doesn’t know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that you’re on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Phil’s, and that’s why he didn’t take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him. 

You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You can’t exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing he’s going to come looking for you. 

It’s only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps that’s why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles. 

“Tell me you know that I love you.” he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.

“I know you love me.” you answer, breathless as your chest heaves. 

His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until you’re flush with his own. “Now, tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I’ll remember.” you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back. 

He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. “Now get on the bed like I told you the first time.”

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe. 

“Move your hands,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. “You wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why can’t I?”

Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s appraising you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. “My brother?” 

You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.

“I bet you wanted him to, though…” he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.

“No.” you say defensively.

“You like Sam because he’s so sweet. He cares. That’s what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know that’s his specialty.” 

“I don’t like Sam. I just wanted–”

“Save it.” Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesn’t release his grip on your cheeks.

“If you want to act like a little whore, I’m going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you.”

He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if you’re okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.

“Did you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh. 

You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. “Did you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.”

“No.” you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. “I… I wanted…” you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.

“You never stop talking, but now you’re at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.” 

“I wanted you!” you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.

“And you really thought that would work?” he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. “You’re dumber than I thought.”  

You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?” he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. “My dumb little brat?”

A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds. 

He pulls away from you, “Ah, ah… Be quiet, remember? I know it’s hard for you to do as you’re told, but if I have to remind you again you aren’t going to like what happens.”

You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. “Did I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?” 

He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. “I think she misses me so bad that it’s got you acting crazy, my love.” His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again. 

“You must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.”

“Josh…” you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. 

You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions. 

“Oh, baby, fuck…” he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. “But you do like it. You love it.” He pauses, locking eyes with you. “Answer me.”

“I–Yes…” you breathe, feeling his smile against your core. 

“My dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.” he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. “Yeah? More? You want two or three?” he asks, his eyes flicking to yours. 

“T-Three.” you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more. 

His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know you’re close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink. 

“Nu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe I’d like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.”

A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels. 

“You know baby, I think I’m feelin’ a little reckless tonight...I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times you’ve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years you’ve been together. 

“Are–Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think you need the full effect… need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.” he says, fisting his base. 

“Although,” he says thoughtfully before pausing. “… if I’m going to fuck you like a whore, I’m gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understand…” he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.

He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, “Aw, what is it? Did you want my cock?” he asks, a smug grin on his face. “If you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. It’s a shame, really.”

“Please…” you whine, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears in the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh she’s begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.” he says, rolling the condom over his cock. 

“Josh come on, please!” it’s a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you don’t care.

His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. “Don’t be a little brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. “That hu—”

“What? Hurt? That’s typically the point, love.” Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. “Now, do you understand?”

You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so he’ll slip inside you.

“So impatient…” he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously. 

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. “You gonna settle down now that you’re feeling nice and full?” he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. “No?” he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that you’ve missed… but it’s not the same.

“No…I wanted you to take it off…” you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.

“You’re in no place to make demands. I’m gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if you’re smart, you’ll say thank you.”

You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.

“But you’re not, are you?” he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. “Can’t be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. You’re mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?” 

You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“I told you I’m getting mine first. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. It’s getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.

He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.

“...Fuck.”

He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.

“Oh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.” he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels… different. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all…”

He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. It’s more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.

“Oh…” you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants. 

“On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until you’re in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way he’s hard and straining against the useless condom.

“Does being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?” he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open.” 

You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.

“More.” he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, “No.”

Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not he’s going to take the condom off.

It’s sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue. 

He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesn’t seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck. 

“How’s it taste, baby?” he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesn’t let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth. 

“You better think twice before you complain.” 

You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way he’s managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Nothing to say?” he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.

He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling. 

“You’re starting to smarten up.” he mumbles. “Little brat.”

He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. “Back on the bed, all fours.” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.

You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further. 

“You’re trembling. You want it so bad don’t you…” he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Want to feel my nice warm cock inside you…Nothing but me and you…You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby…”

“Yes.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t…I should put a new one on right now.” he says, the clench of his jaw audible. 

He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.

His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. He’s struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips. 

You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade he’s chosen for the evening. “Fuck, Y/N… I– I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. “I hate that I can’t live without you. I hate how much I love you. You–I can’t deny you anything…Not ever…” he pauses, his chest heaving. “Can’t you see that?”

“Josh…” you beg through panting breaths. 

“Not yet, you’re gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?” he says, struggling to stave off his own release. 

“I– I can’t…” you whine. 

“You will.” he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, swear to god I’m gonna– fuck…”

“Josh please, please!” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“My little slut begging to cum, oh you’re a fucking vision… My angel…” he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. “Oh goddamn, you’re not a fucking angel though, are you… You’re straight from hell.”

His hips start to falter, and you can tell he’s close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips. 

“I know I said I was going to get mine first, but you’ve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.” he says, nodding his head. 

His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips. 

As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he can’t hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back. 

The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. “A much better shade on you, darling.”

With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. “Stay there, don’t move. I don’t want a mess on the sheets.”

You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is. 

You figure he’s heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening… then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize he’s downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment he’s dealt you this evening.

It’s a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea? 

You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.

“I made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.” he says quietly. “I figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.” His tone conveys that he’s remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. “Listen, I didn’t mean to get so… worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.” 

You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.

“I’m sorry I pushed you that far…” you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.

You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough he’s back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.

“I picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of things…I couldn’t get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely… so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how they’d feel when I got back home and in bed with you.” he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. There’s almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart.  

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.” you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. “I’ve been really hard on you.”

“Hard on me?” he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.

“I just… I haven’t been really considerate about your ear and the stress you’re under and I think I’ve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.” 

He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. “I haven’t exactly made things easy on you…” he says, his voice a little small. “I think–no, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and I’m sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And I’m sorry about tonight, fuck, I’m just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and I’m just really, really sorry.”

He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you. 

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a brat, and I’m sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I just– I wanted your attention…and I know it was stupid and immature… I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.” you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes. 

“And last night, you just wanted a night in and I was…less than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with me…but I couldn’t see that. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re doing your best and I’m sorry I was ungrateful. I’m happy that you were even home. I’m happy I can take care of you while you’re here.” you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. “I missed you last night…”

He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. “I missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?” he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours. 

“Can you forgive me?” you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.

“Baby…” the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating. 

“Can I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrots…” you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest. 

“And I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us… I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?” you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten. 

“Oh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!” he gasps.

You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, “Of course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.”

You feel his body relax against you again, “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks, turning his head to face you. 

You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. “A lot?”

“More than that.” he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing. 

“I love you, alot.” you reply, peppering his face with kisses. 

“But there is something that I want to talk to you about…” he says, his voice growing a little more serious. 

“W-what?” you ask nervously, pulling away just a little. 

“I know you’ve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeks…And I’ve really been looking forward to it too…” he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?

“Yeah…” you breathe, anxious to hear what he’s about to say.

“So, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isn’t able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinator…It really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I just– I know that it’s gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably won’t be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.” he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. “I just don’t want you to come and feel ignored...”

“So I’m not–” 

His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “So, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. It’s so beautiful and I know you’re going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.” He kisses your forehead before he continues. 

“And before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldn’t be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happened…” he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. “So, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?”

Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.

“That sounds so perfect,” you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. “My coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax season…”

“I’m sure they’ll be okay.” he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “They probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.” You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.

“They better not have! I’m out for one day and the wolves descend?”

“I’m sure they’ll be there waiting for you Monday.” He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. “But just in case… Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?” he mumbles softly. 

“Oh, I’d love that…” you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

“It’s a date, my love.” 

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[thelonelyempath]

Sick Prompts II

1. “If you even so much as look like you’re about to pass out, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

2. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine for me.”

3. “You were so sound asleep you would’ve missed the fire alarm going off if I didn’t wake you.”

4. “I’ll bring you some food.  It’s almost time to take your meds anyway.”

5. “If I see you leave that bed even once, I’m going to physically manhandle you back into it.”

6. “No kisses until you’re better!”

7. “Baby, it’s just a stomach ache.  You’ll be fine.”

8. “I told you eating that would make you sick.”

9. “Darling, look at me.  How many fingers am I holding up?”

10. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

11. “Don’t even think about going to work/class today.”

12. “After all of the times I’ve told you it’s a bad idea, you still insist on going out to play in the rain.”

13. “You know I love you more than anything else in the world, but please cover your mouth when you sneeze.”

14. “We’re almost there, love.  Just stay with me a little bit longer.”

15. “Nightmare, huh?  Must’ve been a fever dream.”

16. “Scoot over.  It’s cuddle time.”

17. “Would you rather go to work/class and suffer because you obviously don’t feel well or stay in bed and get cuddles and forehead kisses and watch movies?”

18. “You can’t say the words vomit and okay in the same sentence.”

19. “You’re sick.  Let me baby you.”

20. “No one is expecting you to get over this immediately.”

21. “Why are you so dramatic whenever you get sick?”

22. “Can you even keep water down right now?”

23. “I know you hate hospitals and all, but I’m taking you to one.  Get in the car.”

24. “Okay Ms./Mr. I’m-not-sick, tell me why you sneezed five times in the span of an hour.”

25. “Please take your medicine, love.  It’ll help you get better.”

“26. “Well considering the fact that you’re shivering, the circles under your eyes are five times darker than they were two days ago, and your forehead feels like it’s on fire, yeah I’d say there’s a pretty good chance you’re sick.”

27. “I love you.  I really do.  But your immune system is shit.”

28. “Go to bed, darling.  You need to be resting.”

29. “You’ll live.”

30. “Oh my, 103.  That’s not good.”

31. “When we get home, I’m gonna wrap you like a burrito in my thickest blanket and put on your favorite movie.”

32. “I’ll be honest, babe.  You’re kinda cute when you’re all cranky.”

33. “You need to eat, love.  Just a little bit for me.”

34. “You look absolutely miserable.”

35. “Ooh.  That cough sounded like it hurt.”

36. “How bad is the pain right now from 0 to 10?”

37. “Aw, poor thing.”

38. “How’s your head feeling?”

39. “Would it make you feel better if I put a warm towel on your head played with your hair?”

40. “Don’t just stand around doing nothing!  Get him/her some water for god’s sake!”

41. “We’re not gonna watch a sad movie.  If you cry, you’ll get more congested.”

42. “As adorable as you look in my hoodie, I’m gonna ask that you please wash it before giving it back.”

43. “Come to bed, love.  I’d be kind of a terrible boyfriend/girlfriend/partner if I just let you sleep on the bathroom floor.”

44. “I find it really odd that you act all big and tough, but become a baby when you’re sick.  But that’s okay.  You’re my baby.”

45. “Don’t even try and tell me you’re not delirious.  You have spent all day mumbling abstract nonsense to yourself.”

#sickfic #sickfic prompts #otp prompts #otp sick prompts #writing prompts #sick prompts #sickfic sentence starters

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Texas angst?

Why of course :)

Despite what he might tell you, his immune system is absolute sh*t and he gets sick a lot, though he usually works it off and there’s a 50/50 chance as to whether it gets better or worse.

^sorta related to the hc above: heat exhaustion. Yeah. He’s suffered from it on more than one occasion yet he still works outside when it’s boiling hot for WAY too long.

^oh yeah he also has asthma but refuses to use his inhaler cuz he’s afraid of being seen as week. Same goes for his iron supplements and meds that his therapist gave him.

If he gets into a serious fight that’s going too far, either the person he’s fighting has to give up, or someone has to separate them. There’s no other way for it to end. Texas is going to fight till his very last breath, and would rather die than accept defeat.

poor baby is insecure about the little bit of pudge on his lower belly 😔

(this is sorta happy but also sad-ish) whenever Texas is missing his mom, who’s name was Maria, he’ll go sit down on the beach and just stare out onto the ocean for hours since it reminds him of her (not to mention, the name "Maria" means "of the sea"). He also named his chihuahua Maria, after his mother.

He hates that he has to listen to what his government tells him to do, but if he doesn’t, his handlers will hurt them. One of the worst parts is, is that Texas thinks that they’re allowed to do this. The State Handlers are NOT, under ANY circumstances, allowed to harm the states. Texas doesn’t know this. Even if he did, he’s too scared to tell anyone.

Texas cannot handle seeing any animals die. He can’t. He will cry. Even if it’s a movie. Oklahoma tried teasing him about it and Louisiana nearly strangled him for it. Everyone needs a Loui in their life. (TW: s3lf h4rm and dr^g and 4lcoh0l mention under the cut, but I’m also gonna include some normal hc’s cuz why the hell not)

Texas does alot of stuff that he doesn’t know counts as self harm (ex: taking REALLY hot showers, biting himself, pulling at his hair, not eating for extended periods of time, etc…).

I’m not gonna say he smokes weed and cigarettes, but I’m not gonna say he doesn’t.

Yes he does in fact drink alcohol to numb the pain.

Normal-ish hc’s!

If you decide to ask what’s in his cup, prepare to be mildly horrified (or not). What’s in his cup? Well dear reader. Straight up whiskey, at least 10 shots of caffeine and espresso, a few red bulls and a C4 (the energy drink). This man is not okay (i promise) /ref

To the surprise of pretty much the whole statehouse, Texas does in fact listen to hyperpop, ESPECIALLY Odetari and 6arelyhuman (fun fact: they’re both from Texas. Yeah.). Sometimes you’ll hear him muttering under his breath: "hey scene sl*t we’re still cutting tonight, that’s why my wrists are so sore-". The only state that wasn’t surprised was surprisingly Louisiana. Cuz him and Texas make song recommendations to each other and they have the same music taste (except Loui doesn’t listen to country alot-).

Texas👏Does👏Trickriding👏. It👏Terrifies👏The👏Others👏.

He also makes knives and daggers out of random rocks his finds and he’s (not)surprisingly good at it.

^he makes slime too and you can pry that off my dead cold hands.

Me when,, me when I torture the blorbos,,, 👉👈 (I’m so notsorry):

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt texas #wttsh texas

[bloomingflowersthings]

Could u do florence pugh getting set off with allergies during an interview bc of perfume please

Sweet-smelling Interview

Author’s note: Hello everyone!!! I apologize for the lack of content lately, some rough things have happened to me so I wasn’t doing too well, I am planning on writing more though!! Thank you for your support and patience. I hope you enjoy it!! <3

—————————————

“Ladies!! We’re going to start soon, in 10 minutes, you should be in your places.” The filming director called for you and Florence.

The both of you were going to be in a buzzfeed interview today about your new movie, you were the director, and she was the leading role, everything was going fine.

“Hehktshoo!”

Well, as “fine” as it could go with your sneezy girlfriend.

Allergy season always hits Florence hard, even taking antihistamines she still finds herself sneezing a lot throughout the day.

“Bless you, did you remember to take your allergy pills?” You asked, glancing over Flo, who was trying to rub at her eyes without messing with her makeup.

“Well…” She started to speak, avoiding your gaze.

“Oh my god Florence, what did you do?”

“See, I was going to take them! But I used the last of it yesterday and forgot to buy more.” She said, trying to defend herself.

“You’re unbelievable sometimes-“

“Hi'tshiew! Hhhxxnt!” She turned away from you to catch two itchy sneezes in her elbow, sighing softly afterwards.

“Bless, my love, are you going to be fine without them?” You said, holding both of her hands.

“I’ll be okay.” She smiled and kissed your cheek.

With that, the both of you got to your places to start the interview.

She was not okay though, Laura, your interviewer was wearing a strong perfume, that was enough to bother you a little, and to send Flo’s allergies crazy. Her already sensitive nose was red and twitching, and she was doing everything in her power to avoid sneezing. But clearly, it wasn’t working.

“hhgxnt! h'tsh! ’nxgt!” She sneezed once more, stifling to avoid making a scene.

“Bless you!” You and the interviewer said in unison.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me today.” Florence said, blushing red at her lack of control.

“It’s okay! We’re gonna edit this part, are you sick?” She asked.

“No, it’s just allergies.”

The shooting continued, with a lot of stifled sneezes coming from your girlfriend, which made your worry grow, it was obvious she’d give herself a headache, but you couldn’t just tell her to stop, if you were in her place, you’d probably end up doing the same. You just wanted it to be over soon so you could take Florence home.

Thankfully, it took only about half an hour before the interview ended, and Flo rushed to the bathroom while you gathered your things.

Once you were done, you realized that she hadn’t come back yet, so you made your way to the ladies restroom, knocking lightly on the door before entering.

Florence was hunched over the sink, rubbing furiously at her eyes and nose, her breath hitching as she tried to stave of the need to sneeze.

“Flo, just let it out.” You said, sympathetically.

“Hh- What?”

“Just sneeze darling, this won’t make you feel any better.”

“I don -Hh- need -Hheh- to sne- hHEH’” She said between hitching breaths, stubbornly pressing her wrist over her nose, which made her loose the battle.

“Hhhxxnt! h'tsh! h'ktshi! hhgxnt! h’nxgt! Ow…” She said, wincing at the pressure in her head.

“Stop stifling, you'll hurt yourself." You chided lightly.

“Hhehh-Hikxxt! ’Nkxshh! Heh’kshuu! I’ll never stop sneezing that way, I think Laura’s perfume set me off, it was so strong.” She sniffled thickly, rubbing at her nose.

“Bless you, I think so too baby, and you were already sensitive without your meds, let me take you home, we’re gonna stop at the pharmacy, okay?” You said, getting the car keys from her purse, earning a glance from the sniffly blonde.

“You can’t drive home in your condition.” You said, getting a disposable mask from your pocket and giving it to her, “Here baby, put this on so the pollen doesn’t bother you too much while we walk to the parking lot.”

“Hhah'ktshi! ’tshoo! ’tshhiew!” She wiped her nose with some paper towels from the bathroom and put the mask on, “Thanks, can you take me home now pleeeease?” She whined, making you chuckle.

“Of course darling, let’s go.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Even though Florence had her mask on, as soon as the light breeze from the parking lot hit the both of you, she was set off again, and you interlocked your arms with hers so she wouldn’t stumble.

“Hhep’tshoo! h'ktshi! hk'kiktShIEw! Hi-HI-HIT'ShiEw!” She sneezed with her elbow pressed tightly over the mask.

“Bless, there’s tissues in the car, my dear.” You said as the both of you approached the car.

As soon as you both entered the car, Florence immediately reached for the small tissue box in the glove compartment.

“Hhah'ktshi! ’tshhiew! ‘hktshoo! Hh’itshoo! ’hktshoo! Ugh, I cant take this anymore.”

“Aww Flo, bless you.” You said, wiping her allergic tears and kissing her cheek. “We’ll get you feeling better in no time.”

She looked at you lovingly “Thank you for taking care of me Y/N, you’re my everything.”

“I’ll always take care of you.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taglist: @goldenempyrean @somber-sapphic @natashamyl0ve @wandanats-goodgirl

#sickfic #snzfic #flofics #florence pugh x reader #sick!florence pugh x reader #florence pugh sickfic #marvel sickfic

[monacodaydreaming]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me | Part Two

“Of course I understand how it looks.” You sighed into the phone dropping the magazine onto the table in front of you. You looked up from the picture of you and Daniel walking hand and hand into your hotel last night to Chris, who had so kindly brought it round to you at 6am with a soya latte. “What they conveniently don’t show is the part where Daniel left about 10 minutes later.”

You could hear your agent sigh on the other side of the phone. 

“Oh but surprise surprise, why would they show that. That would make for a crap story wouldn’t it.”

“Look Ellie, I’m not saying that you’ve done anything wrong. You know I want you to be happy and I honestly wouldn’t care either way if you shagged him.”  You couldn’t help but laugh at this. “All I’m saying is be prepared for some questions today. You’ll be down on the grid, which means legally you can’t deny an interview.”

“Yes, I know, I know.” You stood up and began pacing round the room.

“Okay good. Now have fun today babe. You deserve it, you work too hard.”

“Thanks Lucy. I’ll stay in contact okay and I’ll call you later.”

“How are you feeling by the way?” Her tone had become more serious.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay. I had a little incident last night, but I’m not doing too bad.”

“You’re taking your meds?”

“Like clockwork Luce.”

“And Chris is looking out for you.” You turned to face him giving him a small smile.

“He is indeed. He’s taking good care of me.” This earned a big cheesy grin from Chris who was sat at a table in your room.

“Okay, well call me later and have fun today babe.”

“Bye Luce.” You hung up and flopped down onto your bed. “I hate the paparazzi.” You grumbled smashing a pillow down onto your face and letting out a scream. “I always forget that they’re there when I’m having a nice time.”

“It’s easily done Ells.” You felt Chris sit down on the bed next to you. And next thing you knew he was removing the pillow that was covering your face. “Now stop sulking, we have a Grand Prix to get to!”

__

You and Chris were hovering around the pit wall outside of the McLaren garage getting some inside information about the strategy and how the communications between the wall and the drivers work. The drivers were out on the track at the moment for FP3.

“Would you like to listen in on the radio.” One of the young members of the team named Alex handed you a headset. You nodded eagerly and took the headset from him and placed it over you head. Chris doing the same with his.

As soon as you put the headset on Daniels voice came over the radio. “Yeah. Tyres are feeling good.”

You listened to Alex speak back to Daniel. “Okay, copy Daniel.” This was all so amusing. It was funny to think that he was out there driving at like over 200mph right now.  “Just so you know Daniel, we’ve got Ellie listening in over this radio.” You put your hands to your lips to hold back your laugh. “So just watch the language alright mate.” 

“Ellie, glad to hear you made it today.” You let out another little laugh. Alex gestured up to a button on the right side of you headset so that you could speak back to him. 

“Hi Daniel, how’s it going?”

“Oh you know, pretty standard Sunday for me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his answer. “Oh by the way, are we still on for our date this evening?” 

You cheeks burned furiously red instantly at his words. You could feel the stares of people from the pit wall on you. “Why don’t we talk about this later yeah?” You answered him avoiding eye contact with everyone that was around you.

“Aw come on, you can’t leave a guy hanging like that.” He responded which only caused you to blush harder. “Alex, you think you should go out with me tonight right?”

“Okay okay! Yes, we’re still on for our date tonight.” You rushed to get the conversation over and done with.

“You’ve just made my day Miss. Love.” He came back once again. 

__

You and Chris were standing on the grid as the countdown to the race was on. You were standing over by Daniels car who was lined up in P7. One of his better starts to the season. 

“This lifestyle is crazy.” You turned to Chris. “All this travelling and all this money. The risk.” Chris was listening intently to what you were saying. “I don’t think I could ever get used to it.”

“Is it really so different from the way we live?” You pondered over his question for a minute.

“Okay, minus the risk and maybe it’s not so different after all.” Suddenly a certain Martin Brundle appeared in front of you. You internally groaned, bracing yourself for whatever he might ask you.

“I can’t believe my luck, here we have Chris Evans and Ellie Love who are guests of McLaren this weekend.” He was facing the camera but standing by the side of you both. “How have you both enjoyed this weekend so far?” He shoved his microphone right under Chris’ face.

“Oh it’s been amazing Martin. First time at a Grand Prix. I have to admit I don’t know much about the sport, but this petrol head here has been giving me the lowdown.” Chris gestured to you and you gave a little wave to the camera.

“Petrol head? Are you a big fan of the Grand Prix Ellie?” He turned his attention to you now.

“Oh my god yeah! I’ve been watching for as long as I can remember with my Dad! Although this is the first time I’ve had the fortune of coming to see one!” You smiled at Martin.

“Oh wow, that’s really great!” He paused briefly and looked at you, almost contemplating for a split second if he wanted to say what he was about to say next. “Now you took part in a Hot Lap with Daniel Ricciardo yesterday and judging by the photos that appeared this morning, it looks like you had a pretty good time with him.”

You seized up at the words, but kept your composure.  All that media training did come in handy sometimes. “Oh yeah, the hot lap was so fun. And Daniel is a great guy, so sweet and he was kind enough to walk me back to my hotel room after we attended a McLaren dinner last night.” Your tone was friendly, but stern. And your eye contact with Martin, indicated that you wanted the matter to drop there.

“I have to say, he’s never offered to walk me back to my hotel room. Looks like he might have a little soft spot for you there.” You didn’t even know what to say back to that, but luckily Chris jumped in a saved you.

“He wouldn’t be the first to have a soft spot for Miss. Love. That’s for sure.” Chris gave you a wink and you dropped your face downwards and let out a little laugh.

“Thanks for you time guys.” And just like that Martin was storming off onto the next interview. When suddenly you felt a hand on your waist and you turned slightly to see Daniel there. “Hey” you beamed at him. “How are you?”

“Yeah I’m feeling pretty good.” He removed his hand from your back and you couldn’t help but wish he had kept it there. He turned to Chris and help out his hand. “Hey how’s it going?” Chris accepted his hand and they shared a handshake.

“Alright mate. How you feeling about the race today.” 

“Yeah not bad, just trying to keep focused.” He gave you a small smile. “Will you be joining us this evening?”

“Ah yeah, Ells mentioned something about a night out. Yeah I’m there!”

“Alright perfect. Well I gotta get going, duty calls.” I’ll see you both later. He grazed your arm as he headed over to his car.

“Be careful!” You called after him. “Precious cargo.” This caused him to look back and give you a big smile and a cheeky wink.

Shortly after you were escorted off the track and back to the McLaren garage where you would both be watching the race.

__

The race had been absolute carnage from start to finish. With a crash at the very start involving 5 cars, it had been thrown into chaos. All drivers involved were okay, which was a massive relief to everyone. However, Daniel had benefited from it quite nicely, managing to take home P3! 

You and the rest of the McLaren team headed over to the the pit lane where the first three place cars were gathering. Much to your surprise the team ushered you and Chris right to the front of the barrier so you could see as much as you could. You watched as Daniel climbed out of his car and came bounding over to the McLaren team who gave him a huge embrace lifting him off his feet ever so slightly. You and Chris couldn’t stop clapping and cheering. You watched as Daniel lifted his helmet off his head and caught eyes with you. He came wondering over and pulled you into a big hug, somewhat taking you by surprise.

The McLaren team erupted into even louder cheers at this. Your whole body felt like it had been lit on fire at his touch. When he eventually went to pull away he dropped a firm kiss to your left cheek and you felt a blush immediately appear. He seemed pretty happy with the reaction he had caused as a smirk took over his lips. He turned to Chris and they shared another handshake before he headed off to be weighed.

__

You were back in your hotel room in the process of getting ready for a night out with some of the drivers, Chris and more importantly Daniel. You were nervous. No, that was a lie. You were petrified. You hadn’t been on a date in..well years. Not since you split with your ex. That whole experience had been somewhat traumatic for you and it had massively put you off the whole dating scene for a long time.

You’d been pacing in your room for the past 30 minutes over the three dresses that were currently laid out on your bed. You hated that you were becoming this girl, but you didn’t know which one to wear. 

If you were getting ready for an event, you could rely on your stylist, however they weren’t here to help you today and you simply didn’t know which one to pick. You did the only thing that you could think of doing. You called Chris.

You continued to pace as the phone was ringin-

“Hello?”

“Chris! Hi!”

“Err..is everything okay Ellie?”

“Yes!” You paused. “I mean actually no, I’m freaking out.”

“Why what’s going on? I’m coming over right now,”

“No no it’s nothing serious, but I just can’t decide what to wear this evening and I’m slightly panicking a bit.” You could hear him chuckle through the phone. “This is serious Chris. This is a date. This is a first da-“ You were interrupted by a knock on the door. You made your way over to answer it. “Sorry someones at the door, but as I was saying, this is a first date.” 

You grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, only to be greeted by Chris standing on the other side holding the phone to his ear. “Yes, I know it’s a first date.”

“I haven’t been on a first date in years.”

“Yes I know.”

“I haven’t dated in years full stop. Not since Seb.” You paused pondering your own words. You had been in a long term relationship with your co-star on many of the Marvel movies, Sebastian Stan. You were completely in love with the man, well that was until he cheated on you of course. “Oh my god.” Chris looked at you perplexed as you shut the door behind him. “I’ve not dated since I was dating Seb and we were together for three years.” You could feel yourself spiralling now. “I haven’t dated in four years. Chris I’m not ready for this.”

“Okay, you need to calm down. You are ready for this. You deserve to go on a date and to be treated nicely.” You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Daniels a great guy Ellie. You just need to enjoy tonight.” You sat down on in a chair and looked up to him.

“I know you’re right. I just need to calm down really. I’m being overly dramatic.”

“Yes, yes you are.” You fake kicked him from your seat, earning a laugh. “Now, show me these options.”

You clapped your hands together and stood up turning Chris to face the outfits that you had laid out on your bed. “I’m not sure, because we’re going to a club and I haven’t been to a club in a while.”

Chris scanned over the outfits for a little bit before finally pointing to one on the end. You looked at him a little shocked.

“Really?” You asked with one raised eyebrow.

“Hell yeah. No-one will be able to take their eyes off you if you wear that.”

__

You couldn’t lie. You felt entirely overdressed, over exposed and just down right not yourself in what you were wearing, but it was too late to change now. Daniel had sent you a text saying that he was just heading into the lobby, and you texted back to say that you would be down in a minute.

“Okay, come on Miss. Love. Time for a couple shots for dutch courage I think.” You turned away from looking at yourself in the mirror to where Chris was stood pouring four shots of tequila. You waltzed over and immediately picked one of the shots up downing it. Chris quickly joined you before you put the glass back down on the table before grabbing the next. This time you and Chris cheersed them before downing it. Giving you head a quick shake and wincing at the burning sensation down your throat you decided you were ready.

“Ready to do this Mr. Evans.”

“Hell yeah, let’s go.”

You and Chris made your way from your room and to the lifts. As you stood in them descending floors you couldn’t help but continue you fiddle with your outfit. “Do I look stupid?” You asked Chris suddenly.

“What?”

“As in do I look ridiculous? Because I feel ridiculous in all honestly.”

“Ellie the only way that you could be considered to look ridiculous right now, is ridiculously hot. So stop being silly and breathe.”

You gave Chris a light kiss on the cheek just as the doors opened and you stepped out. Your eyes scanned over the lobby and they fell onto Daniel. Christ did he look good. He was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and a black blazer over the top. It was so simple and yet he made it look stunning.

You stood admiring him for a few seconds when his head turned to you and your eyes locked. You watched as his gaze dropped from your eyes and slowly, almost painfully slowly scanned down the rest of your face, pausing a little too long over your lips which were painted a deep purple shade. His eyes continued to move down your neck where they hit your dress. His lips parted slightly as the again were held a little too long at your cleavage. You could feel your body lighting on fire everywhere his eyes gaze passed over. His eyes continued scanning down your body. When his eyes rejoined your gaze, you began to make your way over to him. Your arm linked with Chris’.

“You look beautiful.” He breathed out as you reached him. The smallest of smiles took over your lips as you blushed slightly at his compliment. You took another teeny step forward and went on your tippy toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance, you felt his hand come to your lower back and hold you there for a moment. 

As you pulled away you addressed him. “Thank you sir.” You said cheekily. “You look very handsome this evening as well.”

He held out his arm for you to take. “Shall we?”

#daniel ricciardo #danny ric #formula 1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #forumla one imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

[upsteadlogic]

So happy Will got his happy ending. MANSTEAD have always been endgame, I’m so happy for him and I love that they have FINALLY found their way back to each other. I’ll miss Nick so much but I’m so happy for Will and Natalie, they can finally be a family with Owen and then finally GET MARRIED and have their own little redhead babies. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for them.

Now, over the summer… I hope Hailey’s gonna go on her travels and bring baby Jay home because let’s be real, Chicago is where he needs to be and not just for her… for US. Because she misses him, we miss him and he just needs to be in Chicago. What’s he doing fighting wars in another country whilst Voight still lives and wrecks havoc in Chicago?

But I’m so happy season 10 is over, like it’s not been enjoyable at all and this entire season has honestly been really draining. Personally, for me. This is not everyone’s experience, I’m not speaking for everyone just myself. So I’m happy I don’t have to think about it anymore. But I’m praying for Adam, praying for Kevin and really intrigued to see any exit articles because I’m still wary of LaRoyce’s post, like I do think he’s still leaving and if Adam dies, I mean.. Kim doesn’t deserve that or Makayla. I may not be a die hard Burzek shipper like some but they deserve their happiness. Especially after 10 seasons. It wouldn’t surprise me if Paddy is exiting the show but not like this, I won’t accept it.

I, most likely will not watch the finales because I’ve honestly just checked out from OC all together. But I will say this about Fire, I am so enraged at what we now know to be true, so I’m just giving my thoughts on Med and PD as a joint post.

Whatever the future holds for the one Chicago Universe, we’re still here and that’s enough.

See you all next season ❤️

#chicago med spoilers #chicago pd spoilers #one chicago spoilers #chicago fire spoilers #will halstead #natalie manning #manstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #nick gehlfuss #hank voight #kim burgess #adam ruzek #burzek #makayla burgess #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #one chicago

[yeslieutenant]

Soulmate AU #1

Saw a prompt, wrote a story that wasn't even what I was supposed to be working on. Tada.

A/N: I used the Soulmate prompt of 'The first words you hear your soulmate say are written on your arm.' Unedited. I wrote it, and now I'm posting it.

Warnings: Swearing.

Words: 1,282

Soulmates are bullshit. Ever since I was born, people thought I would be military, all cause of the stupid writing on my arm. I was dubbed ‘The Colonel’ for years, despite my protests. That’s what led me to this moment, and the frustration I was feeling as Clarice chuckled at my arm again.

“I just think it’s funny that people call you colonel, despite your brother being the Colonel here,” she says, her tone light, muffled only slightly by the obnoxious chewing of her gum.

“Dr. Stokes, you know she hates being called that.” my fucking hero. I tug my sleeve down further, gripping it tightly in my hand. I never wear anything but long sleeves anymore. I hate explaining it.

“So what does it even say? Just Colonel?” Clarice asks, pestering me again, and I choose to ignore it. I watch Eric open his mouth to answer, before he decides against it.

I feel the gravity drop for a split second, and hear the pilots talk about the descent starting. I reach down, tightening my grip on my seat and feeling my stomach lurch at the motions. Eric’s hand lands on my knee in a comforting gesture, and I give him a tight lipped smile. As soon as the wheels hit the solid roof, Eric and Clarice are up, and I struggle to keep up with them in the Iraqi heat. I definitely feel my heart screech for joy when my feet land on the solid stone, and I quickly pick up my pace, trotting behind Eric. A gasp leaves my lips at the sight of the man in front of us. He brings his arm up in a salute, and a shiver courses through me at the sight of his muscled arms. His dark brown eyes are trained on my brother, only flitting over me briefly, and I watch dimples poke holes on the sides of his mouth. I manage to catch myself before I stumble over my own feet, my fingers tightening around the med kit’s heavy handle.

“Colonel. Good trip?” No. Fucking. Way. My eyes go wide as the kit slips between my fingers, and I realize a moment too late, the kit landing on the ground with a audible thud. I quickly pick it back up, thankful the clasp stayed firm, keeping it’s contents contained. When I return to my full height, I notice all three eyes locked on me. A deep crimson blush flushes on my cheeks, and for the second time in 10 minutes, I allow a tight lipped smile to grace my features, all though this time is only for a second before my eyes fall to the stone beneath my feet. Eric knows. He knows what my arm says. He’s known since the moment I opened my eyes. He knows this guy is my soulmate.

“Not particularly.”

“Welcome to Camp Slayer. You’re early…”

“Apologize for arriving early, Lieutenant. Things are moving fast.” Lieutenant?

“I hear you, Colonel. We’re glad to have you onboard.” Dreamboat pauses, and I swoon at his accented voice, my heart beating almost too fast, “Techs are ready for your presentation. Soon as we get word from the C.O., we’re good to go.” I hear paper ruffling, and realize Eric is pulling out the letter from CENTCOM.

“You should read this.”

“Didn’t you hear? There’s a new king in the castle.” I roll my eyes at Clarice’s blatantly flirty tone, and I feel irritation bubble up in my throat. He’s mine. I swallow down the nasty words already swelling in my mouth, ready to rip her a new one. Calm down. He may be your soulmate but you don’t have some weird claim on him yet.

“Looks that way.” Swoon. “And you are?”

“This is my assistant, Clarice Stokes-”

“Doctor Clarice Stokes.”

“And my sister, Y/N King. She’s a trauma nurse specializing in injuries received from WMDs.” I lift my eyes, noticing his eyes are trained on me.

“Kolchek. First Lieutenant Kolchek.” I nod, and we stare at each other for longer than is probably normal before Eric cuts in.

“Well! The briefing room?”

*****

What if the first thing I say to him isn’t on his arm? What if it was a fluke? What if-

“I can practically see you getting into your head, Y/N. Calm down.” Eric says, his voice practically a whisper over the bustle of the base.

“How can I calm down? You know what’s on my arm, Eric,” I feel myself spiraling, anxiety spiking. Eric rests his hand on my shoulder.

“I do. But I also know that if you arre freaking out, this whole thing is going to be ten times harder-”

“Sir?” We both look at the Lieutenant quickly, and I know my face must be that of a deer in headlights. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Y/N’s just new to all this. She’s not military.”

“Well, ma’am, I assure you, you’re safe here.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” And there goes the first thing I said to him.

*****

“I’ll leave the techy stuff to you.” His voice isn’t any louder than the radios and conversation around us, but it feels like he’s standing right next to me, speaking directly into my ears, his voice like honey. I feel my hands shake as I sort through my med kit, reorganizing after the jostling it took up on the roof.

“And I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you.” and all at once, it feels like I have been dropped into an ice bath, my skin prickling at Clarice’s sultry tone. I know she doesn’t know but god I could just-

“Actually, I skipped the gym today, so I’d leave the heavy lifting to Corporal Merwin. Let me know if I can help with anything else, Dr. Stokes.” He shut her down? “Ms. King?” I drop the bottle of saline from my hands in surprise, a small squeak leaving my throat at the Lieutenant’s sudden proximity. He reaches out, grabbing the saline before it can roll off the table.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just on edge.” My hands are shaking almost violently now, and I try to steady them by gripping the roll of gauze, as if it was some sort of stress ball. He’s so close, I can smell him, like aftershave and a fresh clean scent, probably just the standard soap they get. He’s radiating warmth, and it takes all of my strength not to lean in, pressing my nose to his neck and reveling in every feeling that surrounds him.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, and his hand lands on my wrist, and I long to know if he can feel my pulse thumping under his fingertips. I look up at him and notice how close we are. “Alone?” I nod wordlessly, following him down another corridor and into a small room with nothing but a desk and a chair. The desk is covered with papers, all looking recently disturbed.

“You wanted to-” But I don’t finish. He turns to face me, his arm outstretched, dark eyes swirling with confusion and distress. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant’ is written there in dark ink.

“Can you show me your arm?” He asks, his voice so quiet, I almost don’t hear it. I extend my arm, tugging the sleeve up gently to reveal my own dark ink. ‘Colonel. Good trip?’

“You’re my soulmate, Lieutenant,” I say without thinking, the words almost not feeling real as I watch a smile light up his features, the dimples that I know will be the death of me appearing on his cheeks again.

“Call me, Jason, doll. Just Jason.”

*****

Tags: @kawaiiwitch224 @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @buttermykolchek @katsufairies @kassiekolchek22

#jason kolchek fanfiction #jason kolchek #house of ashes #house of ashes fanfic #jason kolchek x reader

[chrisevansdaughter]

brain noise “just shhh”

A/n: This has been written with it swaying on personal heavy experiences with this topic, please do feel free to point out any inconsistencies with this, nevertheless I hope you all enjoy and if needed find comfort that you’re not alone <3

————————————————————

This is a request for @chrisevansobbsessed so thank you for this it was joy to write I hope you like it

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Summary: The reader has been struggling with school and the weight of this causes a severe panic attack, Chris being the amazing soft! Dad he is helps her though the panic attack coupled with an overload due to her autism.

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Paring: Chris Evans x Autistic Daughter! Reader

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When you were having a bad day, Chris being as in sync with your moods and emotions more so he just knew when you either were having a bad day or just having an off moment.

This was more apparent when you were younger and had got the diagnosis of Autism - hence the reasons some characteristics that appear when you had a habit of shutting off because of school made sense since its been a cycle since middle school so from about 10 years old.

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It had been a long Monday morning with a triple lesson that you’d hated with a burning passion as that wasn’t bad enough you’re favourite teacher wasn’t there so biology was a shit show.

Dad came to pick me up; it went down hill drastically from how i shut in biology, he’d been notified of this so he came and got me early since he’d worked with the teachers and the school about a learning plan for me in instances like this.

“Hey bubba, how are you feeling” he said walking up to me in the sensory room inside the SEN (special education needs, it’s a UK thing) office in my school

“I- mhmh” I mumbled out whilst pulling the skin off my nails - which was a normal reply which could show where i was was on my ‘shutdown scale’ as we had named it in a meeting.

“Oh sweetheart, its okay it’s just brain noise shhhh, we’re going to go home and calm down in your tepee with dodger, if you want i can get Scott to come over and cuddle too” he replied giving me a grounding tight hug.

I just nodded because i had no energy to reply properly.

————————-

As I pulled into the driveway, i noticed y/n started to hyperventilate out of panic as she must of got in her head because of the day she’d had.

So I took her hand after helping her out of the car with a lot of convincing and reassuring we were in the house in the living room snuggling in her tepee with dodger in tow (as always) that I’d bought after she a particularly rough week of panic attacks and shut downs; whilst Scott was making her some safe food that she’d eat so I can give her some of her anxiety meds that would help ground her further which will hopefully let her sleep a little since my sweet girl looked exhausted.

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Time skip

After meds, safe food and uncle Scott, dad and dodger cuddles I felt better and fell asleep after a long conversation about why school was bad and why I felt so anxious with the massive weight on my shoulders because of the work and it just being too overwhelming. Dad said he’d set up meeting to review my plan and to possibly put more things in place to prevent this from happening again.

“Thank you so much dad for dealing with me and putting up with me with everything I throw you’re way; I love you so much.” I said giving him a super tight hug

“You don’t have to thank me bubba it’s my job as you’re dad to deal with all of this and it’s not ‘putting up’ with you it’s looking out for you’re best interests and making sure you’re okay, happy and healthy. I love you too nugget” he replied whilst planting a kiss on my forehead.

After the heart to heart we had a movie night with all of my favourite Disney movies including Cars 2 and Little Mermaid. It was an extremely exhausting day but I couldn’t change how my dad always shows me love no matter what happens, he’ll always have my back and love me to the end of the earth.

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I don’t know how I like this, did make me tear up a bit because of the Soft! Dad Chris but here it is, I hope you all like it of course reblogs are welcome ❤️❤️

#chris evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader fluff #chrisevansdaughter #fluff #anxiety #chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x autistic!daughter #Chris evans x autistic reader #rpf #uncle Scott #scott evans #chris evans x teen!reader #dodger evans

[minniefights]

Update #10 - 2 weeks in the ICU

We’re marking our 2nd week in the ICU. Nothing much has changed since my last update; the intubation has already been removed and Mom’s breathing has been fairing well and stable, however her Blood Pressure has not really normalized yet. It still drops to a critical level and that’s what keeps us here in the ICU. As soon her BP gets better then we can be moved to a private room.

Praying Unceasingly

It’s peaceful and quiet here in our room. What very much helps to be so is our prayers throughout the day. We usually start the day with our morning prayer time with worship and morning meditation around 8AM. At 11 AM and 5PM, when my uncle (priest) visits, we pray the Liturgy of the hours. And finally, we do our night prayers, which consists of the “Stay with Me” Prayer by Padre Pio, Prayer to St Michael, Intercessions, Psalm 4, Psalm 91 and Song of Simeon. I know that so many people are also prayer for us, so thank you so so much for storming the heavens!

Other “prayers” are in the form of asking God for mercy. When the day is long and tiring, when Mom is in so much pain, when we see the partial bill, when after weeks of medication some of her lab results just doesn’t seem to normalize yet, when all we could muster is a “Lord, have mercy” I believe that is prayer too. Going about the daily chores and necessities, that too is worship.

Chemotherapy Plans

The Hematologist is already drafting on her chemotherapy plan. She earlier mentioned that the treatment will be aggressive. However, she won’t be able to perform it until her infection (Pneumonia) completely subsides or her BP normalizes. The meds for chemo cannot be purchased here in Iligan. I had to order it from Manila, so upon the doctor’s order, I have already purchased a month-long worth of chemo meds (injectables and oral). The doctor also mentioned that meds could also be purchased at a cheaper rate in India. Lucky us, some friends are traveling from India to the Philippines for a conference this month. And so I was able to purchase ahead of time, 4-months worth of medicines at 60% cheaper price. I’m acting in faith to believe Mom will live long enough to undergo these treatments (and by God’s grace get better!). As per chemo meds, we’re covered up until Mid-March. But she also has a ton of other meds on the side, of which I shall think about later on.

ICU Stories

In the ICU, there are so many heartbreaking patient’s stories. Just today, 2 patients have passed away, may the Lord grant them eternal rest. My Mom’s room, however, is situated in a separated area with walls, so we’re a bit isolated from the other patients. So Mom is asleep and unbothered most of the time.

But there are also so many stories hope in these walls. One story which stood out to me is this 10 yr old girl who met an accident and is now in coma for more than 2 weeks. Yet whenever I could take a glimpse at the hope of her family, I am so encouraged. They aren’t giving up on her even if she had 1% chance to live, though she had to be transferred to a public hospital that could lessen the cost for her family to keep her alive. But I could imagine, if only that girl would have moved only a finger, they would have rejoiced so much! Yet even now, that she’s still asleep, with no significant chances to be awake, her family still keeps the faith and still hopes and against hope.

How much more faith and hope do we have for my Mom, who has now been extubated, now she can talk (but very minimally still), eat a bit of soft foods, and drink small amounts of liquid? She is able to communicate, pray and be aware of her surroundings! All the more, our hope is in the Lord who created heaven and earth, and in whose hands our lives are held. Let His will be done.

[xanadontit]

Ghosts of Holiday Movies Past

I will fully admit these movies lean very white and exclusively Christmas and this year I’m going to do better. But for now, here’s some old favorites as the new batch of trash makes its way to us. 

I’m also going to try to be consistent with rating the movies on a scale of 1 to 5 Winter Coats, and include any relevant cast info. 

Christmas Inheritance (Netflix): From Wikipedia: The film features Taylor as a spoiled New York City heiress sent to a small New England town with limited resources to test if she's ready to take over her father's company. When circumstances strand her, her experiences with the townspeople gives her a new perspective on life and her privilege, while also leading to romance with the local inn manager.

This is definitely the “rich big city girl goes to a small town and learns to bake and care about more than status” trope with a Billy Madisonesque twist. Will the small town “hottie” who’s still nursing a broken heart help her learn the true spirit of giving? Will she prove she’s responsible enough to take over the family business? Fuckin’ A! This is the quintessential Hallmark-style movie we’re used to, down to the asshole rich fiance who shows up and insults everyone and the town for literally no reason. 

An absolute comfort watch with some questionable plot points (your wife asked for a divorce while Silent Night was playing and now you freak out every time you hear it? Get on meds, sir), so I’m giving it 4/5 Winter Coats.

The Knight Before Christmas (Netflix): I have no idea why people shit on this movie. I mean it’s absolute fucking nonsense but picturesque and soothing. A knight is sent to the future to fulfill a quest and the quest is... kissing Vanessa Hudgens? Are you shitting me? Whatever, I’m here for Vanessa’s sweaters and Nancy Myers-like house. The end teased a potential sequel and all I can say is “fuck” and “yes.” Perfect movie to watch while high because it’s just completely off-the-rails dumb. Also a great option if you need something on while Grandma or a small child is visiting. Real utility player. 

And when did Vanessa Hudgens become the queen of Netflix Christmas Movies? This AND The Princess Switch trilogy? Sleigh all day! 5/5 Winter Coats because honestly the coats and winter clothes carry this movie.

Christmas Wedding Planner (Netflix): An up-and-coming wedding planner is tasked with planning her cousin’s high society Christmas Eve wedding. Exes and a private investigator are involved, of course. Full disclosure: I could only stomach maybe 10 minutes of this before I had to turn it off. Over usage of narration is a pet-peeve of mine (show, don’t tell!) and I’ve seen better acting in D.A.RE. skits in middle school. Even the wardrobe is embarrassing. I don’t mind cheesy but this is painful. One of my requirements for these movies is that everyone in it not look like they are participating under extreme duress. I can only assume all the actors had to do this or their families would be murdered.

Side note: a lot of these movies really make it sound like Christmas weddings are a totally normal thing and in my 44 years on this planet and zillions of weddings I’ve been invited to I’ve never been invited to one on Christmas. Readers, please weigh in!

0/5 Winter Coats and I don’t think wine or weed could change that.

Next up: Falling for Christmas and Christmas with You

#holiday movie fun

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Bullets fly, some finding homes in hospital walls. Sick bodies lie in bays waiting to be triaged because of staffing shortages. Someone is ambushed while treating patients, jerked to the ground by her hair from behind and kneed in the head so hard she suffers a head trauma. She is now a casualty, out on leave with PTSD. No, this not Afghanistan. This is a routine night at a hospital emergency room in downtown Minneapolis.

Minneapolis nurse would give up ‘every ounce of raise’ in exchange for safety

"Minneapolis isn’t safe anymore. Our staff isn’t safe. We’re constantly getting security text notices about lockdowns. We get text messages at least every other day about drive-by shootings, assaults, robberies, or guns being brought into the ER," a nurse told Alpha News.

This war-zone like work environment has become common for nursing staff there, who will participate in a strike next week with 15,000 nurses from 16 hospitals in the Twin Cities and Duluth area.

While many media reports have pointed to staffing, retention, and patient costs as motivating factors, other nurses are citing safety as the primary reason they’re willing to walk off the job.

“This isn’t about money. Sure, it’s important, but money means nothing if you’re worried about your safety and your ability to care for patients,” said an ER hospital nurse who spoke with Alpha news and requested to remain anonymous. Alpha News spoke with nurses employed at two different hospital locations in the city.

Their concerns are identical, and they both requested their identities be concealed.

“Minneapolis isn’t safe anymore. Our staff isn’t safe. We’re constantly getting security text notices about lockdowns. We get text messages at least every other day about drive-by shootings, assaults, robberies, or guns being brought into the ER. It’s a mess,” she said.

They say they are frightened, frustrated and constantly on edge.

“I’d give up every ounce of a raise for security. This is not about money,” one nurse said. “I used to love what I do. I still do. But when we don’t feel safe and can’t safely care for our patients, it’s exhausting.”

The union vote to strike required a supermajority to pass, according to a press release from the Minnesota Nurse’s Association. The vote authorized nurse negotiators to call a strike following a 10-day notice to hospital employers. The strike is scheduled to begin Sept. 12 and last at least three days.

The strike would be one of the largest nurses strikes in U.S. history, according to the union.

“We want safety, adequate staffing and equipment to do our jobs,” one nurse said. “We don’t have the staff or equipment to properly care for patients.”

Just last week at Fairview Riverside, Crime Watch reported a “suspect barricaded himself in the bathroom, jumped and crawled through the ceiling, jumped the desk and attacked the staff. He may have had a firearm.”

One of the nurses recounted another story. She said “Code 21s” — when a patient is out of control — have become commonplace among pediatric and adult populations. COVID has made mental health situations worse, she said.

“Recently, a patient was brought into the emergency room. He was out of control. We were finally able to contain him in a locked room. Security was watching him using the cameras in the security system. If he got out, they were instructed to alert us, and we were instructed to shelter in place or lock ourselves in the med room. Even the doctor refused to enter the room for fear of being attacked,” she said.

Staff are abused, and ER shootings are not uncommon, she said.

“When there’s a shooting and the victim doesn’t die, it’s not uncommon for the shooter to follow the ambulance to the hospital, go in and try to finish the job. Criminals are not stupid. They know no police are in the hospital,” she said.

In addition, one of the nurses only has three security guards for the whole campus where she works.

“We have a panic button, but the response time (waiting for a hospital security guard) is quite long and when hospital security does arrive, there’s not much they can do. Even when we call the police, it’s 20 to 30 minutes before they show up. They’re short staffed, too,” the nurse said.

The bottom line is, she said, she feels unsafe.

“I never used to feel I had to watch my back walking in and out of work. Now I always do,” she said.

“I’m not saying money isn’t important. Some people do need more money. But when we only have five to six nurses on staff, workload and security are number-one issues. How can they hand out millions of dollars in bonuses and can’t afford metal detectors?” she said.

During the pandemic, they called hospital nurses and doctors frontline workers. Now these nurses feel as if they are on the frontlines of a war zone, but they’re not “essential workers.”

One nurse fought back tears as she told her story.

“I want to be compassionate. That’s why I went into the profession. I think most people went into the profession for that reason, but I don’t feel the same way I used to,” she said.

“What ifs” are always looming in the back of her mind, she said. “What if … no security …no equipment ….”

Despite the hardship and volatile working environment, this nurse is committed to her work. “This is our community. This is my home. You want to have your family member be safe. If I leave, who is going to be that caring and compassionate person to care for your loved one?”

She’s willing to stick it out, even though she feels like hospital administration does not care about her needs.

#Minneapolis #hospital violence #open carry #nurses #lawlessness #ER #trump2024

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

That's how you get the girl - Ch. 1

Solangelo family + The story of how Charlie (Percabeth's son) and Bianca (Solangelo's daughter) started dating.

“Morning.” Bianca walked into the kitchen still in her pyjamas. She took a mug from the cupboard and poured inside it freshly brewed coffee. She looked barely awake.

“Did you sleep well?” Nico asked his daughter. Bianca only nodded as she wasn’t in the mood today. She sat down as Nico gave her a plate of pancakes. He smiled as his daughter wasn't the biggest morning person on weekends.

“Thanks.”

“Did you just wake up?” Ryder asked her. He entered the kitchen with his hair still wet from taking a shower. He tried to take a strawberry from her plate, but she slapped his hand away from them.

“I stopped volley, so I don’t have to wake up this early on a Saturday. And it’s only nine.” She explained.

“Don’t I get pancakes?”

“On your left,” Nico said. Ryder took the plate and sat next to his sister.

“Where is dad?”

“He took Jaz on her soccer practice. They should be back soon.” He replied as he saw the time.

“My best decision.” Bianca declared as she took another bite from her plate. She had decided that she already had too much on her plate and the choice came down to ballet or volley. She chose ballet.

“Are you driving me tonight to the party?” Ryder asked her.

“I am not going.” She said bluntly.

That caught Nico’s attention. “You aren’t?”

“It’s just a party. It’s not a big deal.”

“You bought a new dress.” Her brother said more concerned.

“So? I buy a new dress every week.”

Ryder turned to Nico and motioned him to say something. “I think you should go.” He advised his daughter.

“I am not in the mood. And I don’t want to see Tyler with whatever trash he’s dating right now.”

That was it. Nico knew that Bianca took the breakup harder than anyone had expected. To be honest, the guy wasn’t even that great. Which made him even angrier that his daughter was still not over him.

“I am done. I’ll go upstairs.” Bianca said as she put her plate in the sink and headed upstairs.

“You should do something about it,” Ryder told his dad.

“I’ll figure something out.” He promised. “Why do you care so much?” He said with a slight smirk.

“I just think she’s been upset for too long. It’s started getting on my nerves.” He explained. “And I can’t stand watching her like this. Her bubbly-in-love self is much less annoying.”

“She needs time.” Reyna and Rachel had both told him that. After the first week of mourning, both he and Will had started freaking out as Bianca had never cried so much over a guy. But the only thing their friends told them was that she needed time.

“It’s been 2 months.”

“I’ll sort it out. You can talk to her as well, you know.” Nico hinted, knowing exactly how Bianca would react.

“She’ll decapitate me.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“I am not risking my head.”

Will and Jasmine came in from the back door. Ryder got up. “Figure it out.” He said and left.

“What was that all about?” Will asked as he sat down.

“I’m going to my room,” Jasmine said as she skipped upstairs.

“Bianca is not going to the party today. And Ryder is worried about her.” Nico explained. “And to be honest, I’m worried about her.”

“Should we talk to her?” Will suggested.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Let’s go now.”

They headed for their eldest daughter’s room. Will knocked on the door and slowly opened it. Bianca was cleaning her room.

“Hey.” She said not bothered by her parents’ presence. She looked in a better mood than she was 10 minutes ago.

Nico sat in her armchair whilst Will took her desk chair and turned it to face her. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked her.

“Sure. I’m decluttering my closet. I’ll give all these away.” She said and motioned at the pile of clothes on her bed. She pulled some clothes aside to make space to sit on her bed. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Bee.” Will cleared his throat. “We’re a bit worried about you.”

“Why?” She asked confused. “I am fine. I’m taking my meds and I’ve been feeling a lot better lately.”

“We think you should go to the party tonight,” Nico suggested.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just not in the mood to go”

“You haven’t been in the mood since school started,” Will remarked. He didn’t want to push her, but he was getting worried about her as she was locking herself from the world more and more.

“Why do you make a big deal out of it?” She said sounding upset.

“Because we love you and we’re concerned parents.”

“And I’m telling you not to worry.” Bianca smiled still looking a little sad. “I promise. I’m fine.”

“I just hope it has nothing to do with Tyler.” Nico declared catching her attention.

“Pardon my French but who gives a fuck about Tyler. I know I don’t.” Bianca got off her bed and pulled more clothes out of her closet. “You should make up your mind. I date guys and mess up your blood pressure. I don’t date guys and mess up your blood pressure. I should be the one concerned about you.”

“Do whatever you want. We just think that it would be good for you to go to the party.” Will told her.

“I am not going. I’ll stay inside and watch a movie with Jasmine.” Bianca stated.

“Alright, then. If you need anything, we’ll be downstairs.” Nico and Will got up.

“Okay.”

They closed the door behind them. “I’m calling for reinforces.” Ryder popped his head from his doorframe.

“You’ve been eavesdropping?”

“You were next door, and you were loud. I didn’t even try.”

“Who are you calling?” Nico asked him.

“I’m doing as instructed. Bianca doesn’t tell her dear best friend that she won’t show up until the last possible moment. Zoe is really good with threatening.” He mentioned. “I’ll give her a call.”

“Careful,” Will warned him.

“Always.”

#percy jackson fic #percy and annabeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percy jackson headcannons #hoo #pjo #pjo next gen #solangelo #will solace fanfic #will solace fanfiction #will solace headcanon #bianca solace di angelo #percabeth babies #solangelo babies #bianca di angelo #will solace #solangelo fanfic #ryder solace di angelo #jasmine solace di angelo #nico di angelo one shot #heroes of olympus next gen #nico di angelo headcanon #nico di angelo fanfic

[midnight-sun-01]

The Price of Truth

Rating: 18+ minors, this ain’t it for you, get out of here

Pairing: OC x Crosshair

Warnings: these apply to the entire work and will not appear in each chapter: alcohol use, unprotected sex, violence, canon-typical gore, swearing, let me know if I missed anything

Wordcount: 3692

Summary: This is my first fanfic! WIP. I hope I’m doing this right. OC is a journalist, gets assigned to field work, and stumbles across a massive conspiracy regarding the clones. Slow burn, slow build. AU where some timelines are probably non-canon, and things go differently with the inhibitor chips. This chapter is slightly self-indulgent, and we (hopefully) begin to see the grumpy sniper's hard exterior soften a bit. I think it's fun! Hope you guys like it!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

            “I’d like to thank you all for your service to the Republic. Due to your efforts, a great many lives were saved,” spoke the modulated, steady voice of the Kel Dor in front of the 5 of them. “It looks like not everything was easy with this mission,” he continued, glancing at Poppy and Crosshair as the steady drip, drip, drip, of water from their still soaked clothes created puddles around them, “but you have my gratitude. I value each and every one of my men, and I value you just as deeply.”

            “Thank you, sir,” chorused the batch in unison. Plo Koon bowed, and walked away.

A clone with one cybernetic eye added gruffly “Thank you. I’m grateful. I couldn’t get in to my men, and… well, if you ever need help, give me a call.” Then he nodded, and walked away to join his Jedi General.

The rest of the squad turned around and made their way through the winding halls of the Star Destroyer to the hangar bay. They attracted some curious stares as they went, but no one bothered them as Poppy followed behind the rest of the group.

“Good work, everyone,” said Hunter. “Another successful mission. No casualties, got the targets out, and destroyed the bunker.”             “As if there was any doubt!” replied Wrecker. “That was a piece of cake!”

“Yes, that did go rather well,” agreed Tech. “The incident with the blaster was,” Tech glanced from Crosshair to Poppy, “a little unfortunate, but everyone made it out fine.”

“You’re not the one covered in swamp water,” Crosshair growled at Tech. “It’s easy to call it a success when you’re clean and dry and didn’t get shot.”

“Technically, I’m not dry. We were all submerged in the marsh up to our knees. Also, it was only a glancing blow that hit you and ricocheted off, so you barely got shot.”

Crosshair grunted, but did not say anything as the group continued their chattering journey. Poppy found herself wondering inwardly about the nature of this clone squad. They had just fought their way out of several skirmishes where the odds were not in their favor, but they hardly seemed phased by it. Maybe resilience was in their DNA. Or maybe optimism was drilled into them since birth. She continued pondering their unique quirks, barely noticing when they walked up the ramp to the Havoc Marauder. Only when the doors began to slide shut behind her did it fully register.

            “How did the ship end up back in here?” Poppy asked, distracted.

            “The Republic often sends in extra air support squads to extract our ship when we won’t be able to get to it if we’re evacuating under heavy fire. These ships are custom built for our squad, so they aren’t cheap. This is technically the third Havoc Marauder,” explained Tech. “We have extra room for rations, since we’re often out on missions for so long, we have a small med bay, and Wrecker even has a larger bunk than average troops.”

            “Speaking of ship modifications,” said Hunter, “it’s shower time. You two are filthy.” And he turned to look at both Poppy and Crosshair. Poppy froze, watching Hunter warily, her heart beating rather faster than normal. Hunter glanced at her then said “flip a credit to decide who goes first,” and walked away.

            Poppy turned to face Crosshair, who fished a credit out of his pocket. “Heads or tails?” he asked, looking down at her.

            “And if I call it right I can shower first?” she ensured.

            “Promise.” Said Crosshair. “Or, we could just shower together. I scratch your back. I’m sure your boots will be difficult to get off, after all,” he said, smirking at her.

            “Ha ha, very funny,” said Poppy rolling her eyes.

            “What makes you think I’m joking?” he asked. Poppy was used to men teasing like this. After all, she worked with very few other women, and had gotten used to the constant sarcasm. Something in Crosshair’s face when he said that though, made her pause. She looked up into his sharp-featured face, and felt her words catch in her throat.

            Looking away she said, “just flip the coin, will you? Every second we stand here plasters this shirt to my skin a bit more.”

            “If you insist. Heads,” he answered, as he tossed the coin up, reached out, and snagged it easily out of the air while still holding his rifle one handed. “Hold out your hand.”

            Poppy placed her palm up, and Crosshair put the coin into it. It was heads.

            “Lucky me,” said Crosshair, one side of his mouth turning up in a half-smile, and he swaggered down the hallway away from her.

            “It’s fine, I still have footage to go through anyway!” she called after his retreating back.

            He merely threw up a lazy, two-fingered salute without turning around to look at her, and kept walking.

            15 minutes later and Poppy was in her bunk, extracting the footage from her camera. It looked even more chaotic as she reviewed it than it had seemed when she was experiencing it firsthand. Half of the frames were merely smoke and fire and noise, and nearly all of the footage was shaky from her running footsteps. How on earth was she supposed to document this? Almost none of this first encounter was usable for anything except 3-second clips that could be interspersed with other, longer, more informative pieces of information.

            She put her head in her hands and sighed deeply, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. How had Ric managed to document all of this? Most of his data had been typed pieces, but he had sent a fair bit of high quality footage as well. Deciding she would figure that out later, she gathered up nice soap and a fluffy towel-a few of the home comforts and luxuries she had brought with her-and headed off to the refresher. It had been nearly 20 minutes, surely Crosshair was done by now.

            She padded softly to the door and knocked on it.

            “Crosshair?” she called gently. The light was still on, but there was no answer. She knocked again, this time louder, and called “Crosshair, are you still in there? It’s my turn now, high tail it.” Still, no one answered. Deciding he had merely left the light on, Poppy slid the door open.

            Crosshair was standing in front of a long mirror opposite the door. He had a loose pair of pants hanging low on his hips, and every inch of his long, broad, muscled torso was shirtless. She realized now that he wasn’t actually as skinny as he looked. He was covered in hard, long, lean muscle. He was also examining a massive bruise that blossomed across the right side of his body, starting midway up his torso and stretching out past his right shoulder blade and down across the front of his chest, his arm raised above his head so that he could see the damage clearly.

            Poppy was frozen in shock. She could try to slide the door closed quietly and sneak away, but she was scared that the sound would draw his attention. Then he caught sight of her in the mirror and turned to look her full in the face.

            “I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, um it was just the uh the door was unlocked so I thought you had gone already,” Poppy stammered feeling warmth flood her cheeks while trying to explain that she hadn’t been intentionally creeping on a freshly showered man. “What happened to you? Are you alright?” she asked in spite of her embarrassment, moving forward into the confined space to take a closer look at the massive bruise.

            “You saw what happened,” he answered frankly. There was no anger behind it, it was a mere statement, but Poppy was confused.

            “Are you sure? I didn’t see you get hit by a tank or anything,” she said.

            “You saw me get shot, right before the blaster bolt knocked me into you,” he explained, almost bemused.

            That didn’t make any sense though. She stared at him, confused. He had gotten back up immediately, even dragging her out of the water and tossing her into the ship beside him.

            “But, Tech said it was only a glancing blow,” Poppy said, trying to make sense of the purple, black, and red marks stretching across half his torso.

            He smiled grimly back at her and leaned against the counter where she was standing. “This is what happens when a glancing blow from a blaster hits you,” he explained, moving his arm back gingerly so she could see the damage fully. “Do you see the dark red area in the middle?”

            She nodded, leaning closer, her fingertips just barely hovering over the surface of his skin that still had scattered water droplets clinging to it, scared to touch him and cause him more pain.

            “That’s where the blaster hit most directly. The rest of this is just from the force radiating outwards. The armor stopped the bolt from being lethal, but that turns it into mainly blunt force trauma as a side effect.”

            She looked up into his face, horrified, and suddenly realized that they were only inches apart. She could feel the warmth coming from his body. His face was not pinched in the normal lines of stress or worry that were typically there, but instead looked calm, and thoughtful.

            “Are you going to be alright?” Her question came out as barely more than a whisper.

            He actually managed a full smile at this. “I’m a soldier. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. This is what we were made for,” he said simply, looking down at her.

            Poppy felt the tension grow between them, the silence stretching. Finally, she took a step back from him, looking down, and said “thank you.”

            “For what?” he asked, looking genuinely blank.

            “For pulling me out of the water and getting me onto the ship,” she said, still looking at the floor. “I don’t want to be a burden or get in anyone’s way.” She took a deep breath, and looked into his face.

            “Don’t mention it,” he said. And, standing up to his full height again, he slid past her as he exited the refresher and slid the door shut behind him.

            Poppy stripped her filthy clothes off her, wincing as the dried swamp sludge stuck them to her skin and she had to peel it away. She wondered briefly if she would ever be able to get them fully clean, and understood Fox’s recommendations on gear more than ever.

            As the shower water hit her skin she sighed. Just being able to get the smell and the feel of the grime off her was a huge relief. She had never been very high-maintenance, but the smell of stagnant water and decay clinging to her hair and her skin kept the memory of the sudden violence she had been plunged into fresh in her mind.

            She scrubbed at her arms and hands as she thought about the group of clones she had been paired with, and wondered at their differences, their similarities, their likes and their dislikes. They all seemed to accept with surprising ease that they had been made specifically to carry out lives of violence. Yet, what if they had other options? Surely they had interests outside of war, personal desires, wants, and needs? Her job was to report on the matter of clone autonomy, yet, if all the clones easily accepted, and even enjoyed, a life of warfare, was there clone autonomy to be had? They shared all of their genetic material, so did that still make them independent beings responsible for their own welfare? But if they weren’t responsible for it, who was?

            No, she rejected the thought. No. These are all arguments that the Senate has thrown back and forth for months. Her thoughts drifted to her brief submersion in the swamp water. For the most fleeting moment, she had wondered if they would leave her there. Then a strong hand had grabbed her parka and made sure she was safely on the ship. She had gasped for breath, hardly able to believe her luck, as Crosshair’s helmeted face had collapsed on the ship next to her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Even though his face was concealed she was certain his eyes had been on hers, before Tech had descended upon them and pulled Crosshair to his feet. Tech had checked them both immediately, Crosshair first, as he’d been shot, to make sure they were okay.

And suddenly, a fury broke over her as she thought of all of the men she had met on this assignment, and what they had to do every day. They were men, not droids. They had free will, and desires, and goals, even if they had pushed them deep down inside of themselves in order to carry out the original goal intended by their creation. How could the Republic have deluded itself this severely? She thought back to Senator Amidala’s most recent speech on the matter. She had been right. This is slavery. It was her job to examine the matter from every angle, but after months of working on this project, there was no other conclusion. She wondered why Ric had come to the conclusion so much faster than her, but maybe it was because when your own flesh and blood was put next to theirs, that made everything more real.

            She turned around under the stream of water to scrub the muck out of her hair and a sharp pain shot through her back, interrupting her train of thought. Her breath caught in her chest, and she froze, letting the discomfort wash over her and slowly recede. As her heartbeat slowed, she reached a hand up and felt gingerly along the long muscle of her back leading up to her shoulder blades. A faint memory of a scraping feeling under her shirt when she was knocked into the water came back to her. She finished scrubbing the rest of the grime from her body and climbed out of the shower.

            Wiping steam off the same mirror Crosshair had been using to examine his bruised ribs, she turned around and craned her neck to see her exposed back. Her eyes widened as she saw a long, thin scratch running from mid-back all the way up to between her shoulder blades. It wasn’t wide, but it looked fairly deep. She could feel the soreness of it in her muscle. Leaning closer, she saw that it was red, and tinged with slight green on the edges, but that it did not even appear to be bleeding anymore. Just a scratch, then. She put the matter out of her mind and grabbed gloriously clean clothes to pull on.

            The heat of the refresher was overpowering as she finished yanking a brush through her unruly hair. Perhaps a less hot shower would have been good, but she was nearly finished, and the rest of the batch could take their turns as they hurtled through hyperspace. She was just finishing lacing up her boots when a knock rang out on the door.

            “Come in,” called Poppy, straightening as the door slid open to show Hunter.

            “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check if it was all right if Wrecker came in for his turn,” he said respectfully.

            “Yes, that’s completely fine, I’m good to go it’s all yours,” she answered, trying to grab her things and vacate the room, but gasped, struggling for oxygen, on the last word. She had felt her heart rate jump in an all too familiar way.

            Hunter, apparently, had heard it too, as he looked sharply at her and asked, “Is everything alright?” in a tone of urgency she had not heard from him before.

            “Oh no,” she muttered to herself as her head began to swim, and white lights popped in front of her eyes, blocking her vision. No, no, no, please, not here, she thought to herself, reaching for the counter, desperate for something to ground herself.

            Then she heard another pair of feet approaching up the hallway, and as she looked up and met Crosshair’s eyes, she felt her anxiety ratchet up a notch. She did not want to pass out in front of these two men, and she most certainly did not want to explain to them that the only reason she was light headed was she had taken a shower that was too hot for too long and her blood pressure got low when she stood up.

            “Is there a problem?” asked Crosshair’s low voice, and her heart rate jumped again, drawing another glance from Hunter.

            “I’m fine, Hunter,” Poppy reassured him as she felt her heart rate slowing.

“I heard your heartbeat race out of the blue, and you nearly hit the ground just now,” Hunter protested. “That wasn’t nothing.”

Crosshair’s sharp gazed flicked between Hunter and Poppy, his brows furrowed.

            Poppy felt embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with her, she was just tired and had taken a shower hotter than the suns of Tattooine, and so her blood pressure had gotten too low for a second when she stood up. There was no need to bother themselves about this.

            “I’m fine, Hunter, really,” said Poppy, too embarrassed to admit that this issue was purely self-inflicted and truly not worth fussing over. “I’m just a little tired, so I’m going to go lay down.”

            Poppy slid past the Sergeant, who looked unhappy, but didn’t press the matter.

            When she finally dragged herself into her small room, Poppy collapsed on her bed, completely exhausted and overheated, and put her head in her hands, still trying to slow her heart beat to a normal speed. After a moment, she felt a change in the room, rather than hearing it. She opened her eyes to see Crosshair standing in the hallway, his sharp gaze fixed on her, and she froze. He glanced down the hallway, and jerked his head in at the room without saying a word, and as Tech came in she understood.

            “I am the unit’s designated medic,” Tech said, entering through her open door and standing next to where she sat on her bed. “If you are feeling unwell, I must insist you tell me.”

            Crosshair moved into her room, but stayed back, leaning on the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

            “I’m fine, Tech,” Poppy started, but Crosshair interrupted her.

            “Hunter said he could hear your heart racing, and you nearly passed out back there. I got Tech, so tell him how you feel,” he said bluntly. She glared at his tall frame leaning on the wall, but knew it would be pointless to argue with him.

            “Fine,” she answered, and turned back to Tech. “I’m hot, I’m tired, I got a bit dizzy, but I knew if I just sat down I would be okay,” she explained.

            “Hmm let me see,” said Tech, taking a few quick vitals while she spoke. “Well, I would agree with you, you will be fine, but whether you realize it or not, you’re very dehydrated. I’m guessing since we were in a swamp and it wasn’t hot, you didn’t stop to eat or drink anything when we got back to the ship. That, combined with a massive surge of adrenaline that you’re not used to, has lowered your blood pressure significantly, which caused your heart to race.” Turning to Crosshair he said “Go get me two of the hydration packs from the cargo hold,” and to Poppy’s surprise he didn’t argue, but nodded and was gone in an instant.

            Poppy sighed deeply, running her hands through her hair, then let her hands fall into her lap. “I’m sorry to bother you with something this small, Tech,” she said.

            “On the contrary,” said Tech, “it was Crosshair who bothered me with it, and not you.”

            She smiled in spite of herself. “He’s an unusual man,” she admitted. “I thanked him for pulling me out of the water, but to him it seemed like nothing at all.”

            Tech considered her thoughtfully for a moment before answering, “Crosshair trusts Hunter. Hunter is in charge of this squad and everyone in it, and has never led us astray. If Hunter says you’re part of this squad during your assignment, then that means quite a lot to us, and possibly Crosshair most of all.” His eyes were serious behind the goggles. “Crosshair would not hesitate to protect any member of this squad. He did his best to protect Ric, and was unable to.” He looked down, heaving a deep sigh. “I do not think that losing a member of our team like that is an experience he ever intends to repeat.” He turned and held her gaze as if to convey the seriousness of their convictions, and at last, she nodded.

            “Though,” he added, dropping his voice as they heard Crosshair’s soft footsteps approaching, “I cannot remember him ever being so solicitous with any other member of our team.”

            Crosshair reentered and passed the hydration packs over.

            “Drink these, get some sleep, and you will be back at optimal health levels when you wake up,” said Tech, as he and Crosshair moved to exit the room.

            “Thank you,” called Poppy when they reached the door.

            “You are quite welcome,” said Tech, who marched off down the hallway, his face already buried in a datapad.

            Crosshair stood in the doorway for a moment longer, then reached for the handle to close the door behind him.

            “Crosshair?” she called out to him.

            “What’s that?” he answered, his hand still resting on the handle.

            “Thank you,” she said.

            He smirked slightly as he answered, “Sure thing, sweetheart,” and slid the door closed.

            She flopped back on her pillows, exhausted from the day’s action. As her back twinged against her sheets, she wondered if she would ever be as used to injuries as a clone.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars tbb #tbb #crosshair tbb #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #clone force 99 #oc x crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #bad batch crosshair #clone wars

[cwritesforfun]

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Reader: Falling in Love pt.1

This is based on the song “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” by Elvis Presley but the cover I love is by Haley Reinhart ... and I love the cover by Kina Grannis. They will be linked at some point in this story or at the end:) 

Basically, Rooster is in love with you.  **I do not own the Top Gun characters** Y/N = Your Name

There will be PART TWO! Stay tuned! Want to join the tag list? Comment or follow me! 

Y/N’s POV 

I asked Bradley to be my plus-one at my sister’s wedding. He’s really close to my family and always has been, so he was already going to get an invitation. Then, my sister told me that most of her friends were bringing dates and so were some of the groomsmen. She didn’t want me to be left out, so she told me to ask Bradley. She said he could sit next to me and room with me since she wanted to invite him anyways. When I invited him, I simply asked him if he wanted to be my plus-one at the wedding and didn’t mention I needed a date. He immediately said yes. 

Bradley is leaving the military base at 12, he gets here by 2, we leave at 3 for the airport, and then we fly to Miami where the wedding is. My sister wanted a beach wedding. My sister gets what she wants.

Around 2:30, I start to get worried. I go to wait outside and when I fling the door open, Bradley is standing right there looking like he was about to knock. I exclaim “I was worried you wouldn’t make it. I’m glad you did. I’m almost done in here. Come in come in.” Bradley walks inside and he says “So you were worried about me?” I playfully shove him and say “Of course, I was worried about you, doofus. You told me you would be here by 2 and didn’t say you would be later, so naturally, I was worried. I started to think something bad happened. I care about you, Bradley, and I just want you to be okay.” He replies “Damn, I didn’t know I would get emotional in the first 5 minutes of seeing you. Wow okay, bring it in. Give me a hug.” I wrap my arms around him and he wraps his arms around me. I take a deep breath in and out. He’s okay. We’re okay. Ooh, he smells good. Bradley says “You smell like a fruit basket ... in a good way.” I reply “And you smell like a coconut in a good way.” He laughs and we pull away from the hug.

My neighbor/friend takes us to the airport at exactly 3.  We arrive, get through pre-check in under 10 minutes, and we get to our gate about 30 minutes early.

Bradley’s POV

I watch as Y/N pulls out nausea medicine and takes it.  I ask “Hey. For the flight, is there anything I can get for you? I know you get sick on planes.” I forgot until now that she gets sick on planes. I shouldn’t have forgotten. The first time I took her on a plane, it was early in our friendship and she was so excited to see what I was passionate about. The base I was at around that time allowed us to bring friends and family over for a day. We got to show them the planes we flew and the training grounds. We also had a meal with them. I invited Y/N because from the moment we met, I knew she was it for me and I didn’t want to invite family. I took her up in my plane and immediately after we landed, she jumped out and puked in the trash can. She then proceeded to tell me she gets motion sickness and has motion anxiety. She always takes medicine if she knows she’ll be on a plane, except for today. I apologized profusely, but she was cool with it. She was drained the rest of the day, but she cheered me on as my name was called among the top leaders and we had a fun night at the bar afterward. 

Y/N says “If I fall asleep, just get me ginger ale. That’s all. After we start flying, with these meds, I’ll fall in and out of sleep.” I reply “Okay. Just let me know if there’s ever anything I can do. I care about you and want you to be okay. I’ll do anything I can to make this flying experience better than when I flew.” She laughs and says “Your flying wasn’t bad. It was smooth and the view was beautiful. I just throw up in planes or I’m asleep in them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but you know what, I still loved it. I got to see what drives you and your passion in life. That was priceless and I wouldn’t trade seeing you that happy for the world.” Why am I about to cry again today? This girl and her words to me... bring me those tissues, please. I reply “You always say such beautiful and nice things to me. Cue the tears part two today.” She smiles and holds out her hand. I hold it and we sit there talking until we can board the plane. She drops my hand when we have to stand to get on the plane. I’m sad. I liked holding her hand. I love Y/N more than a friend, but she doesn’t even know. Maybe she does, but she hasn’t told me. Maybe she likes me back. I don’t know. I have said nothing. This is the weekend for it though. I told myself I would tell her this weekend no matter what.

After we board and are sitting in our seats, we start talking and giggling. This old couple leans over to us and the old woman says “I just wanted to tell you two that you are the cutest couple. You remind me of my husband and I when we were young. I hope you two have the best life together.” How do I tell her? I can’t. No. I can’t break her heart saying we aren’t together. I exclaim “Thank you ma’am. That is very kind of you. We hope you have a safe flight and a great rest of your life too.” She smiles and thanks us. 

I turn away from her and look to Y/N who is watching the flight attendant’s demonstration attentively. So maybe we won’t talk about our feelings for each other on this flight? Yeah, that wouldn’t be my best idea. Ok hold it in Rooster.

The flight takes off and I let Y/N squeeze my hand as we fly. She takes it and falls asleep. She wakes up for a few minutes here and there to adjust how she is sleeping. I let her lay on my shoulder too.

I get her ginger ale and she drinks it as we fly.

During the descent, Y/N squeezes my hand extra hard, but not unbearable. I would never tell her if she hurt me when I know she is feeling so anxious. 

When we land in Miami, we get our bags. Y/N’s sister sent us a car and we’re looking for it. Y/N texts the driver and we find him.  He asks “Are you Miss Y/N and boyfriend, Bradley?” UH ... the second person today that has thought we were a couple. Y/N can’t have not heard that this time. I glance over at her as she says “Yes we are. My sister gave me the wrong number at first to find you, so I’m sorry we took an extra minute.” The driver replies “That is alright, miss. Let’s get you and the Mister’s bags in the trunk, so we can head out.”

We place our trunks in the car and the driver starts driving. Y/N asked to sit in the front for her motion sickness and the driver was cool with it.

As I sit in the back, we all talk. It’s a very light convo. The driver and Y/N seem on good terms. I wonder if she’d date him or if he is her type. She’s never told me her type. I just want to be her type and for her to date me. 

PART TWO! It will be of the rehearsal dinner and wedding. Stay tuned! Want to join the tag list? Comment or follow me!

#top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun fluff #top gun imagines #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw fluff

[nerdywalkingencyclopedia]

Febuwhump 2023 Day 10

Read it below the line, or here on AO3 (appreciate all kudos, feedback, comments)!

It was supposed to be a simple team building exercise, some time away from the ED was the rest of Chicago Med’s ED staff, courtesy of Jack Dayton.

Hannah had a bad feeling about it from the start.

First, it was the heat that had been bestowed upon them by the sun. Trekking through the woods was one thing, but when it was hitting over 30 degrees Celsius, it felt like they’d be sentenced to some sort of punishment.

She wishes she could have had a valid excuse like the one Dean had, what with his injury. But then decided that was a selfish wish.

Now, they were stuck God knows where. Giving the map to Justin was seemingly a bad idea and paired with the misplaced confidence of Dr Marcel had meant that they’d walked circles for what had seemed hours.

It would be dark soon, and they knew that if they didn’t make it back in half an hour, a search party would be sent out for them.

The only person who was somewhat happy was Will, who was making his rounds around the doctors, trying to spread what seemed to Hannah misplaced optimism. They may have been experts in the medical field, but they were downright stupid when it came to orienteering.

For the hundredth time that day, she’d wished that Ethan was still here, or even Dean – no doubt their military background would have made the day far more fluid than it had been thus far.

“Right, guys, let’s take a break.” Will suggested, and the sudden thumps of backpacks on the grass proved that it was a well time suggestion.

Hannah slung of her own backpack, taking the final sips of water from her bottle. She looked up, hoping that by some sort of miracle, they’d make it to their destination whilst they could still see through the trees.

Ten minutes had passed, and after five medical brains been racked over the map, everyone made their way up. Hannah slung the backpack back onto her sweaty, slimy back, cursing once again that she’d been talked into this.

Once she stood up, however, she sat back down rapidly, feeling lightheaded. Will had turned around, expecting Hannah to be ready to go, but instead saw her sitting down on a wilted patch of grass, hand gripping her chest.

“Hannah?” He asked, concerned at Hannah’s delayed response towards his voice. He slung off his backpack, crouching down to her eye level, before staring down to the focus of her attention – a red rash slowly covering her left leg, something in the centre.

He was well acquainted with the perpetrator – a tick. He turned back towards his backpack, reaching for the brightly coloured first aid kit he’d stuck at the top, and grabbed a pair of tweezers.

“Hannah, I’m going to slowly pull it out, alright. But I need you to move your hands.” Hannah could do nothing but nod in response, audibly wheezing. Not good.

Luckily for Will, he had the assistance of a whole plethora of doctors. Marcel had made his way to the two, grabbing Hannah’s hand in his.

“Will, injector?” Crockett queried, concerned at Hannah’s state.

“Second pocket, right side.” Will responded, still trying to evict the tick from Hannah’s flesh.

Crockett dove in, pushing past the various bandages and other medication to reach for the brightly coloured injector, before jabbing it into Hannah.

“There.” Will held the tweezers up, triumphantly holding up the trigger.

“It’s going to be alright, Hannah.” Will looked at Hannah, scooting himself so her legs would cascade over his own knees.

“Yeah. I think we’re going to all owe Hannah on this one…” Crockett said, looking up at the Medevac circling overhead, most certainly the result of a timely call from one of the other medics, “for I think we might actually make it back before sunset.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday10 #chicago med #difficulty breathing #hannah asher