#doctors wear scrubs a lot in like. residency right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anthrofreshtodeath · 1 year

Note

Ooh 4 and 10, a forced return and kisses??? Angst central 🥳🥳

I enjoy some angst, especially in bite-sized chunks. @kerfuffle-puffin also asked for 4, so we'll start with that one.

___

4 Kisses where it hurts

Maura’s thoughts are so disorganized that it chokes her. She is used to order, used to the gestalt cognition her autism had previously blessed her with, that her brain injury has taken away. She’s never gotten a diagnosis for the former, no need with her expertise, and the latter had been obvious as soon as her head hit the bar of The Dirty Robber those weeks prior.

Her brain had been so… so good before. So beautiful.

Now, she pulls up BCU’s medical dictionary of health terms just so, you know, she can double check that her pathology reports say what she wants them to. She consults the lowly thesaurus.com so that she can confirm her previously plentiful bank of synonyms without sounding repetitive.

She never sounded repetitive. Oversharing? Sure. Unnecessary reiteration? A lot. But sounding repetitive? Never. Not since she used to repeat things as a little girl just because she liked the way they sounded, how the cadence and the prosody lilted out of her tiny mouth and changed the airwaves around her. Constance had rid her of that, and quickly.

What… what would Mother say now? Now that Maura stares at a computer screen unable to remember the thought she’d started just a few seconds ago. Her fingers had been sure, they’d begun the sentence so quickly, and now she can’t decide if she wanted to talk about the bullet deep to the victim’s left lung or the deep vein thrombosis that would have killed him hours after the bullet entered his chest anyway.

Either way, her head wants to hang and she wants to cry.

“Hey,” a voice she’d never forget even with the most devastating of traumatic brain injuries, all but whispers, dragging her out of her head.

When had Jane stopped in the doorway? Before the concussion and the inflammation and the chiari malformation diagnosis, Maura would have spotted Jane’s march from the elevator to the threshold.

Jane doesn’t give her much time to contemplate though, because as soon as Maura looks up and as soon as Jane sees that Maura’s been weepy, she goes over to Maura’s desk.

She takes Maura’s head in her hands, cradling the thing that has given Maura’s life so much meaning and, recently, so much consternation. Jane looks down, Maura looks up, and then Jane places her lips right in the center of Maura’s forehead. Three kisses. “Looked a little sad,” Jane reasons when she pulls away and Maura’s confusion registers across her face. “Thought I might know what was botherin’ ya. Wanna run through this thing together? I’m a good spell check.”

10 forced reunion

Maura’s heels clap through Boston Regional’s polished halls, and even though it’s not the ICU, her heart hammers just the same. She weaves through residents, nurses, and doctors as rooms blur by her. Gómez, O’Rourke, Mwangi, Jackson… Rizzoli.

She’s made it. From Korsak’s breathless call to her desk phone, to the hurried change out of scrubs and into the outfit she wears now, from the agonizing ascent of the elevator to the driver’s side of her car, she’s thundered across the city to Room 308.

Jane is not supposed to be here.

Jane glowers at the edge of the hospital bed, arm in a sling and face scraped, because she is not supposed to be here.

She is supposed to be deep in the webbing of an extortionist group that had already killed three people. She is supposed to be undercover, with no contact, for the remainder of the week at least. But, on this Monday, she is attempting to leave against medical advice. She was made and she was hustled out of the job gone wrong and she is mad.

Maura pauses in the doorway. Jane’s hair is more wild than usual and someone had been holding ice up to her eye because the gash over it is angry burgundy, but not swollen. It’s still weeping. Its first opening, probably at the hands of a large knife, had stained the front of her shirt. There’s still blood on her neck. It’ll scar, even if someone had bothered to suture it. Maura looks over to the side of the bed, the suture tray still there, with instruments dropped in a hurried mess on it, and realizes someone probably had bothered and been chased away for their trouble.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Maura chances, dropping her purse on the chair just to the right of the door. For all her bluster outside, she radiates calm now, like she knows no other way to be.

“Oh fuck off,” Jane groans. Maura had expected as much. She doesn’t even flinch. In all their years in each other’s orbit, she’s finally learned that this means to come closer.

Most of the time.

“Is that what you told the physician?” Maura purrs with a little bit of teasing. She purses her lips, but one corner goes up and her eyes dance.

Jane scoffs and turns away. “I’m goin’ home,” she says.

Presumably to lick the proverbial wounds, Maura surmises. She can’t reach that large one with her tongue. “Not before you let me close that. Here. In a hospital. With antiseptic.”

The doctor had even been kind enough to leave his stool, the padded one with the wheels so common to hospitals, and Maura brings it over, along with the tray. She goes to the wall, pulls a few nitrile gloves from the station next to the charting board, and then takes her seat.

“I’d rather not,” Jane finally grumbles.

“I don’t care,” Maura tells her. “I care that you’re safe, and mostly intact. I care that your job spared your life - again. Though I know at any moment it could tear it away,” The frenetic heartbeat of the hallway returns, and this time her voice shakes. She won’t cry, though.

“This isn’t how I wanted to see you again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to come back a winner,” Jane argues. Maura hears her voice shake, too, but not with tears. She holds the collection tray up, looks Jane in the eye, then nods to it.

Jane knows what to do. She spits the amalgam of phlegm and blood into it. Maura doesn’t flinch, doesn’t grimace, doesn’t gag. She just puts it down and hands Jane some gauze. “That is irrational of you,” she says to Jane. When Jane glares, she smiles. “It is. You have the best closing rate in the state. You are always a winner and one case isn’t going to alter that. You are mad because you are obsessive and you are filled with such… oh. Such vengeance. Try to stay still. I’m going to flush the wound,” Maura pauses her speech to squeeze the cold saline solution into Jane’s wound.

“Agh fuck,” Jane snarls, but to her credit, she stays put.

“You’re mad because you haven’t released the valve in awhile,” Maura continues. She rubs antiseptic around the cut before she pulls out the needle and thread. Jane won’t want the anesthetic because Jane needs to feel something. “And I keep telling you that there are safer, healthier, more enjoyable ways to do that, but you don’t listen.”

Jane says nothing. She lets Maura sew her up.

“Jane?” Maura calls with a small smile, because it’s been a few seconds and Jane is blushing.

“Not ready yet,” Jane rushes out in one quick breath.

“Well, I am,” Maura says. Her next tug is particularly forceful and it jerks Jane’s head closer to Maura’s chest. “And so I don’t mind waiting for you to be. But what I have planned is a lot better than a through-and-through and a forced reunion, so you may want to hurry up.”

Jane responds with a chuckle and white knuckles against her own knees. “Oh, fuck off.”

#ask anthrofreshtodeath #otp prompts april 2023 #rizzoli and isles #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #also hey self-diagnosis is valid but if you suspect you have a disability its always a good idea to confirm that medically #so that you can have access to some resources that are out there #I headcanon maura as having way too much internalized ableism and stubbornness to do so however 💀

30 notes · View notes

handsomewrites · 1 year

Text

Think Less

Dr. Talis can't hold his liquor, but sometimes a looser tongue works in ones favor.

I almost didn't cross-post this one but just throwing up a link to ao3 isn't as satisfying.

Written for the JayVik gift exchange on twitter! Should I post a link on twitter? I never post on twitter The prompt was a holiday party in a doctors au, with some fashion inspiration taken from the giftee's very cute art, though I can't resist a get-together fic so not a lot of that dynamic showed through...

TAGLIST: T rated; JayVik; Doctor AU; alcohol ment.;

ao3 link

Office parties aren’t really Viktor’s scene.

Well, office party doesn’t exactly describe what this is, he concedes to himself, eyes skimming over the milling crowd. The hospital has rented a venue, and everyone is dressed slightly nicer than usual; though, with usual being scrubs for a lot of them, that’s not a hard bar to surpass. It means he had to dress up as well, though, with his messy hair brushed for once and pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his skull. He’s gotten out of the habit of wearing a tie since he became the head of his department, and it’s already feeling tight across his trachea.

His cane taps across the annoyingly fancy tile floor as he crosses to the bar, his annoyingly fancy shoes tapping alongside it. He dreams of being back in his office in tennis shoes and a white coat. He almost feels a little naked without it. At least there isn’t a cash bar this year -- the least Piltover General can do for its staff is swing for a few drinks to take the tension off.

“A Tom Collins, please”, he says to the man tending the bar, leaning against it to take some pressure off his leg. It’ll be a long night of standing around until he’s been here long enough to politely leave. He wouldn’t have come at all if not for Sky, the newest doctor in his department. She’s a sweet girl fresh off her residency, and when she asked if he was attending with those big puppy-dog eyes, he couldn’t help but agree to accompany her. She’s grown on him a surprising amount for the brief time she’s worked under him, no doubt in part due to the fact that she seems to think he’s a genius who built the hospital’s orthopedic department from the ground up.

Well, more accurately, she knows he’s a genius. He also pulled the orthopedic department up from the dregs it was in when he was hired, which is basically building it from the ground up, so she’s right on both points. She’s a smart girl.

When the bartender returns with his drink, Viktor takes it with a nod of thanks, pushing off the bar to make room for Sky to order. He recognizes most of the doctors here, but most of them don’t like him much, and he rather prefers it that way. They’re mostly dull, and exceptionally shallow. They don’t look at the bigger picture -- anything outside of their specialty is not just a mystery to them, but they seem to think it entirely unimportant altogether. They’ve all got medical degrees, but he questions if some of them could pass high school with the critical thinking they exhibit. Yet somehow, they all think they’re the smartest one in the room.

Well, Viktor also thinks he’s the smartest one in the room, but he’s at least right.

Sky joins him with a martini glass between her fingers, which Viktor idly notices are painted a night-sky blue to match the color of her shimmery knee-length dress. It looks nice, but he’s not really sure how to compliment girls on their nail polish coordination, so he doesn’t.

“So,” she says, voice low and conspiratorial, “give me the who’s who.”

Viktor hums. “Well, I suppose we should start at the top.” He gestures with his glass towards one of the taller women in the room, with an icy glare and salt-and-pepper hair that falls to her waist. She looks as dapper as ever in a white pants suit and a cane of her own, though Viktor has doubted for years that it serves the purpose of a cane, since she never seems to be putting any weight on it. Maybe it’s got some other purpose. He doesn’t have enough proof to share this particular theory with anyone, but he’s always watching.

She’s nodding stoically in a conversation with a woman a few inches shorter, who’s draped in gold and white from the jewels in her curly black hair to the tips of her high heels. “Doctor Glasc and Mel Madarda, the two main investors of the hospital. The former a pharmacist, the latter bringing all the business sense to the equation.”

“They’re both beautiful,” Sky comments. Viktor hums.

“They hold basically all the power in the hospital. If they say jump, the only correct answer is to apologize that you didn’t think to jump beforehand. Now, do you see the almost comically short man approaching them?”

Sky makes a face at the description. “I think I see who you mean, yeah.”

“That’s Professor Heimerdinger.”

“The director of the hospital?”

Viktor nods. He’s not sure if her surprise is that he’s here at all, or that he looks like that -- everyone knows his name, from emails and paperwork and administrative nonsense, but if you’ve only ever read his writing one wouldn’t assume that he’s barely 5 feet tall, with hair and a beard so wild it’s questionable if there’s a man in there at all. “I think some of his cousins or something work in different parts of the building as well. They all have a similarly... eccentric style. And stature.”

“Should you be talking about the director of the hospital like that?”

Viktor shrugs. It’s not like anyone can hear them. He gives a little wave for Sky to follow as he picks his way across the room towards the hor d’oeuvres.

“As far as I know, everyone else here should just be a doctor from some department or another. I’m not sure who you know and who you don’t, so just... tell me who you want to know more about?”

He picks up something skewered on a toothpick and scrutinizes it while Sky scans the room of people herself. It looks like a scallop, wrapped in bacon. A hospital event should probably not be serving shellfish, with how common an allergen it is, but these parties are mostly for show anyway, as far as Viktor figures. It’s not one of his own sensitivities, so he pops it in his mouth and picks up another.

“Are the other department heads here?” Sky asks, startling him a bit. He’d almost forgotten she was there already. In his defense, all he’s eaten today has been... Maybe some oatmeal in the morning? It’s been a while since then.

Turning towards the crowd again, he uses his now-empty toothpick to point. “Most of them are not, but there are a few.” It takes him a few moments to pick each face from the crowd, but Viktor successfully goes down the list of departments, giving Sky the names and pointing at them if they attended the party. He counts them out on his fingers, to avoid forgetting any.

As he gets to the end of the list falling one short, he pokes at his pinky with the toothpick, thinking. “Oh, Emergency is the last one. Sometimes I forget they’re a department, because I try not to go down there. The head of ER retired earlier this year, but the acting head and, if hospital gossip is to be trusted, likely replacement is...”

Almost as if on cue, a laugh carries across the room, above the quiet and inoffensive non-denominational holiday music that’s been playing all evening. Viktor feels his eyebrow twitch as he points to its source. “Dr. Talis.”

He is, as always, surrounded by people who are utterly charmed by whatever he’s saying. He’s in a white suit jacket with a dark vest underneath, paired with a bow tie and a red flower tucked into the breast pocket. One of the female doctors has a hand on the crook of his elbow as she laughs along with him, leaning forward in a way that’s probably meant to give him a flirtatious eyeful of her low-cut dress, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, wow,” Viktor hears Sky gasp, and he rolls his eyes.

“You might have seen him before, he’s a bit hard to recognize when he doesn’t have on scrubs covered in little rainbow rubber duckies.”

Sky seems too distracted to hear his scathing commentary, so Viktor goes back to surveying the overpriced finger-foods, wondering if they plan to serve a meal at this party or if it’s more of a cocktails-and-snacks affair.

----

Sky, it turns out, is a much more gifted conversationalist than Viktor is.

Not that that’s saying much. Some people would say a rabid raccoon is a more gifted conversationalist than Viktor is.

Either way, Viktor finds himself riding Sky’s coattails very quickly once they integrate themselves with the crowd. She’s polite, and respectful, and good at getting people talking. Viktor stands beside her and nods like he’s listening, but the conversations are mostly about who’s getting married or going on an international vacation or summering on someone’s yacht.

After a few hours of this, Viktor feels justified in peeling away from the group, which seems to be moving and shifting around Sky at its center. She’d said she came to network, after all. He had no idea she’d be so good at it.

Back on the outskirts of the party, Viktor can see the attendance has thinned out a bit. Those who came to schmooze are still doing so, but anyone who came just to make an appearance or to get some of the free booze has already taken their leave. The party has been going on long enough that the hor d’oeuvres are mostly depleted, and most everyone still there has at least two or three drinks in their system.

He’ll have one more drink, Viktor decides. He’ll give Sky some time to make sure she’s comfortable flying on her own, enjoy one last cocktail, and then call a cab home. There’s a scientific journal he hasn’t had time to read for about a week, and it and his fuzzy slippers are calling his name.

The bartender is at work combining ingredients for him when Viktor realizes he’s not alone by the bar. There’s a man leaning against it, staring sullenly into the bottom of a tall, empty glass like it’s offended him personally -- one of the ones he pointed out to Sky earlier, from the ER department.

“Dr. Talis,” he greets, to be polite.

The man looks up at him, seeming surprised. Viktor isn’t terribly quiet when he walks, but maybe hadn’t been paying attention. There’s a moment where there’s no response, and Viktor is about to be a bit offended when one finally comes.

“Jayce,” he says. Viktor blinks. “Just Jayce is fine.”

“Right.” No one can pronounce Viktor’s last name, so he doesn’t really have the opportunity to decide if he wants to extend the same courtesy. Everyone just calls him Dr. Viktor, so he doesn’t have to hear them struggle through.

The bartender returns with his drink, and Viktor is glad to escape the awkward conversation. He only makes it a step or two away before he stops again, though, hearing the conversation behind him--

“Can I get another--”

“No, sir, I think you’ve had enough.”

A noise one might almost call a whine, in another setting.

“Just one more?”

The clink of a glass on the counter. “Here’s a water, sir.”

Viktor sighs, turns on his heel.

“Dr. Tal-- Uh. Jayce?”

Jayce looks up from his glass of water with big, dewy amber eyes, and Viktor has to avert his own from the discomfort of the eye contact.

“Who did you come here tonight with? Where are they?”

“Well, I came with Cait, but she left early.” Viktor is familiar enough with the hospital’s staff roster to know that Cait is likely Caitlyn, one of the paramedics. “I was hanging out with some doctors and the one kept bringing me drinks, which tasted like soda, so I figured it was fine? But I guess they weren’t just soda. They were good, though.”

“Right. And where did they go?”

“...I drank ‘em.”

“No, the people you were with.”

Jayce shrugs. It’s a bodily kind of shrug that knocks his bow tie askew. “I’unno. They all usually get bored of me after an hour or two. I guess I didn’t say the right stuff?”

He’s looking down into his glass again, and Viktor feels a pang of pity. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. That seems like a good opportunity to leave Jayce to his wallowing.

Viktor is leaning a bit more heavily on his cane as he walks, after standing for most of the night, so he finds a table a bit away from the crowd and flops into a chair. He has a good enough vantage point to watch Sky mingle through it, without being dragged back in or having someone trip over his cane. He takes a slow sip of his drink, and hears someone sit in a chair near him.

Apparently inebriation turns Jayce Talis into a lost puppy dog, and he chose Viktor as the one he would follow. Viktor looks around, wondering why it’s on him to take care of the idiot who got drunk at the holiday party this year.

He can feel Jayce staring at him for a few minutes, so he keeps his gaze forward, watching the woman Sky is in conversation with wave the investors over. Hopefully she makes a good impression on them -- at this rate, she’ll be Viktor’s boss, soon. He’s not sure how he feels about that.

“Who are you watching?”

Viktor jumps a bit, hand tightening around his glass. Finally turning to look, he sees Jayce sitting in a chair backwards, arms folded over the backrest to pillow his chin. He’s left an empty one between them, so he has some personal space, at least.

“The girl in the dark blue dress, over there. Talking to Miss Medarda and Doctor Glasc. She’s in my department, so I accompanied her here tonight, but she seems to be doing well enough on her own.”

Jayce looks a little sad at the answer, and Viktor isn’t sure why. He doesn’t have to wonder for long.

“She can’t screw up with them worse than I did,” he grumbles. Apparently he takes Viktor’s raised eyebrow as encouragement to continue.

“The professor introduced me to them, like, talkin’ me up about how I’m in line for the head of my department, or whatever. Which is a good intro I guess, but it’s a lot to live up to! And so I’m talking to ‘em about their hospital management stuff, and Mel’s like, how do you think we could improve the ER department. Which is, like, an interview question I was totally not prepared for.” He gestures with his water glass, spilling a little over the side.

“So I’m like, well, I guess we spend a lotta time waiting around for drugs, y’know, so maybe the pharmacy limits are too tight. Lotta... red tape. I get limits, but we gotta keep things movin’!” More water lost. At least Viktor is out of the splash zone. “Then Doctor Glasc gives me that scary look, and she says, oh, the limits I put in place. ‘Cuz she’s pharmacy. Which I totally forgot, like an idiot.

“So I’m trying to backtrack, like no, no, they make sense, of course, totally, right, it’s not the main source of backed-up admin paperwork! And--” he hiccups. “And that’s when Mel is like, oh, what would that be? And you know there isn’t a good answer to that question, and... ugh.” He drops his head so his forehead rests on his forearms, sighing dramatically.

Viktor winces. No wonder Jayce had started drinking. Medarda and Glasc are intimidating women, even to someone who isn’t in Jayce’s precarious position.

“...Drink your water. It’ll help you feel better.”

Jayce grumbles, which sounds a bit like he’s saying I feel fine, but takes a sip as he’s told. He’s obedient like this, at least.

Viktor finds himself studying Jayce, while Jayce passes the water glass from one hand to another, idly watching the crowd. There’s no denying he’s an attractive man -- broad-shouldered, tan-skinned, with biceps likely too big to fit a hand around. Viktor had always assumed he was using it to his advantage, schmoozing the people who tried to flirt with him, but tonight has him doubting the notion.

His face is open, guard entirely down. His teeth rest on his bottom lip, showing off the little gap between them. There’s also a little scar in his eyebrow that Viktor’s never looked at him long enough to notice. It’s interesting how he rides the line of handsome and cute. If only he wasn’t so damn irritating...

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Jayce slurs, looking up suddenly. His gaze is intense, piercing, which is surprising for someone whose eyes won’t quite focus.

“Um, sure?”

“Did I do somethin’ to make you mad?”

Viktor blinks. Some part of his brain scans through the memories of all the interactions he’s had with Dr. Talis.

Most of them before tonight were incidental, in the cafeteria line or receiving a patient who had been stabilized in the ER. When you work in a mid-sized hospital for as long as Viktor has, that tends to happen with everyone. Jayce is always polite at those times, nothing out of the ordinary.

But there were also times where Jayce would seem to almost seek him out, just to brag about some new accomplishment or ask if Viktor had seen the newest research or something of the sort. At first Viktor had thought he was showing off to try and put himself on the same level of doctors a few years his senior, but as the years went on, it didn’t seem to stop. The only logical conclusion Viktor could make was that Jayce is like that with everyone, inherently braggadocious and looking for chances to prove everyone wrong.

“Eh, no,” Viktor answers eventually, because he hadn’t done anything in particular. He’s just an offensive, annoying person in general. But he’s still not sure why Jayce is asking. “Did I, you?”

“No, no, I just. We’ve been workin’ together for years, right?”

Viktor wouldn’t say together, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“And, like, you’re cool, and pretty, and smart, and confident. And I always try to impress you, y’know? With papers, or stories about cool stuff that’s happened, or whatever, but you always seem... irritated.”

He’s blinking at Jayce in a downright owlish manner now, he knows, but Jayce is too engaged with his rant to notice.

“Like with most people they just, like, smile and nod and pretend like they like you. And they do that, because they think they can get something from you, and as soon as you can’t do everything for everybody, they leave. And I’ve, I’ve come to expect that, you know? But you’re not like that.” He points at Viktor, and he feels pinned like a bug on a mat.

“You don’t pretend, you’re not fake. Everyone knows where they stand with you. But I dunno how to... change where I stand with you. I figured, hey, he doesn’t like anybody, doesn’t want friends, I guess. But then you’re here tonight, bein’ social, and... so maybe it’s me? Like I did something?”

His eyes are getting big and watery again, and Viktor really doesn’t know what to say, so he does what he does best and shoves all the emotional thoughts in his brain aside. Instead, he pulls out his phone. “Let’s... call you a cab.”

“It’s okay. I walked here. I’ll just... walk home.” Jayce dejectedly puts his glass of water (almost full, save what was spilled) back on the table, clumsily pushing his chair away as he stands. He wobbles noticeably, catches his balance, and takes three more steps before his path veers again.

With a sigh, Viktor gets up to intercept him, putting one of Jayce’s meaty arms over his shoulders so the man could rest on his free side. “I don’t think you’re in a shape to be walking through the city alone at...” a glance at his watch. “Nearly two a.m.. Where do you live?”

“I’m good, really,” Jayce hums, gestures. “It’s just, like, a fifteen or twenty minute walk that-a-way.” He tries to pull away a bit, but Viktor keeps a firm grip on his hand.

“What’s the address, Jayce,” Viktor presses, walking them towards the door.

Jayce winces a bit, wiggling his fingers. Viktor’s grip doesn’t relent. “Apartment 4A. Across from the bakery.”

Viktor closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath through his nose. “What bakery?”

“The one with the little pastries my mom likes.”

“The address, Jayce!”

“I don’t know the bakery’s address,” Jayce answers, as if it’s a stupid question.

Well, so much for loading him into a cab and sending him off. But Viktor doesn’t feel right leaving a weepy drunk to his fate on a cold winter night in the city, either. And he sure doesn’t trust anyone else to notice what’s going on over here.

“Alright,” he sighs, loading Jayce into the cab. “My place it is...”

----

Jayce is awoken by a dull, throbbing pain in his head. He squeezes his eyes tighter in a vain attempt to ignore it, but as minutes tick by it only gets worse, and he slowly becomes aware of more ways he’s uncomfortable. His mouth is dry, his eyes are crusty, his back aches from the lumpy mattress he slept on and he’s still wearing a dress shirt and slacks--

Wait. Dress shirt and slacks... lumpy mattress? He slowly opens his eyes to confirm his fears: this is not his bedroom.

He springs forward, but once he’s sitting up his head starts to spin and he has to stop to quell the queasiness. The room he’s in is messy, but it seems like a controlled chaos... most of the piles of things seem to be books and papers. There’s a bucket lined with a plastic bag on the floor next to the bed, which he is very much hoping not to need. There’s also a glass of water on the bedside table, and three little pills sitting on a piece of paper. It just says ‘aspirin,’ in crooked, doctorly handwriting, with an arrow pointing to the pills.

Downing the pills and water, he racks his brain to dredge up memories of the party. Cait had ditched him, then he’d put his foot in his mouth talking to the investors. After the professor praised his progress at the hospital, too. Hopefully he hadn’t fully tanked his chances at the promotion. Then... one of the female doctors had been talking to him, buying him drinks. That’s where his memories go fuzzy.

She’d definitely been flirting with him, but he wouldn’t have gone home with her, would he? At least he’s still fully dressed, albeit missing his tie and shoes. His shirt had a few buttons open as well, but not enough to be indecent, especially with an undershirt on. He scans the room for his shoes, trying to remember her name... if this is her house, not remembering who she is would only make things worse.

About fifteen minutes is enough time for the aspirin to take the edge off his headache, and to determine his shoes are not in this room, but not enough time to retrieve the woman’s name from his memory. Oh, well. He stands with a sigh, opening the door as quietly as he can to pad down the hall.

He’s in a decent sized apartment, which is homey, but just as chaotic as the bedroom. The floor is clear, though, with surprisingly few tripping hazards for how much stuff is piled on the available flat surfaces. He passes a bathroom, and a dining room, before turning the corner into the kitchen, and freezing in his tracks.

The kitchen is small, with a little bar separating it from the living room. There are a few chairs lining the bar, and sitting in one of them is the head of the orthopedics department, Viktor, with a mug in one hand and a messily-bound pack of papers in the other. Over his shoulder, through the window to the living room, Jayce can see a pillow and blanket draped over the sofa, and a pile of things in a nearby armchair that looks like it includes his shoes.

Viktor looks up at him with an inscrutable expression, but if Jayce had to put a word to it, he’d choose bored. “Help yourself to coffee,” he says, gesturing with his mug towards a half-empty coffee pot. Then he goes back to reading like nothing is out of the ordinary.

“Um. Right.” Maybe he does need that bucket after all, with how his stomach is fluttering. Everything in him wants to just grab his things and run, but one thing everyone can agree on about Jayce is that he’s polite. So instead, he shuffles across the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Viktor even left the sugar and creamer out, so he doesn’t have to drink it black.

Once it’s made, he slides into one of the chairs, leaving an empty one between himself and Viktor. He blows the steam off the top, trying not to look up at Viktor, who isn’t looking up at him at all. “Thanks for, uh. Taking care of me last night. I don’t know what got into me...”

“A lot of cocktails, if I was to hazard a guess,” Viktor says, deadpan. His eyes track across three more lines of text on his papers before he sets them on the counter, taking a sip of his own coffee. Then he finally looks up at Jayce, eyes scanning his face. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

“No,” he admits, feeling his cheeks flush a bit. “I don’t usually drink that much...”

“I can tell.” It almost seems like there’s a bit of humor in his voice, the hint of a smile on his face. Maybe Jayce is imagining it.

“I hope I wasn’t too much trouble for you...”

Viktor waves a hand. “You were very agreeable, though you did fight me in getting your shoes off. Very talkative, too.”

“Oh, God.” His stomach flips again. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing.”

Viktor says nothing at that, just giving a little shrug. Jayce would swear the little smile on his face is bigger, though. He focuses on his coffee to distract himself. It’s a surprisingly good roast.

They sit in minimally-awkward silence, sipping coffee, for a few minutes; long enough for Jayce to believe the topic of last night to be dropped. Viktor finishes his coffee, dog-ears the page he’s on and flips his papers closed. From the front page, it seems to be a medical journal, printed out and stapled together. Jayce can see the words robotics and prosthesis, but he’s trying not to be obvious about looking over Viktor’s shoulder.

“You did say one thing,” Viktor says suddenly, and if Jayce’s coffee wasn’t already half empty it would have spilled.

Viktor drums his nails on the ceramic of his mug, a staccato pattern of clicks signifying the gears in his mind turning. There’s something graceful about the movement of his long, thin fingers moving in a rhythmic wave. Almost hypnotic.

“You said,” a pause. “You said I’m cool?”

Okay, that’s not that bad.

“And smart. And that you wanted to impress me?”

Jayce feels his face burn with embarrassment as he opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Viktor’s next words are almost too quiet to hear. “And... pretty?”

Maybe he died of alcohol poisoning last night, and this is hell, actually.

Viktor’s tapping slows to a stop, and Jayce can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He says “I can--” at the same moment Viktor says “Is that--” and they both stop speaking, staring at each other with a similar mix of anxiety and scrutiny.

Silence is an awful sound, Jayce decides. He just wants to go home, shower, and go back to the hectic insanity that is his everyday life in the ER.

Viktor picks up his sentence first. “Is that true? Or was it just, eh...” He gestures with his mug, free hand spinning a curl of his hair between two fingers. “Drunk ramblings.”

“...Both?” Jayce puts down his coffee so Viktor doesn’t see his hands shaking. “I mean, it’s true, yeah, but I also wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry.” He stands, straightening his shirt -- to little effect, since he slept in it. “I’ll--I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sorry, again, I really--”

“Would you want to, uh. Have lunch, sometime?” Jayce is startled out of his panicked rambling, and looks up to see Viktor looking away, chewing on his bottom lip. “I could tell you about this journal I’ve been reading. If you’d like.”

“--Uh. Yeah. Sure, yeah, that... sounds cool.”

----

Thankfully, Jayce has the day after the party off work, so he can sleep off his hangover and pour over everything that’s happened in the last 32 hours. But working in the ER, two consecutive days off in a row is a rare occurrence, so the next morning he puts on his festive reindeer scrubs and heads into the hospital.

The hectic nature of the Emergency department distracts the part of Jayce’s brain that wants to fret, which is a bit of a relief. It’s a busy day, but things will only get busier as the holiday season drags on.

He receives a patient from the ambulance bay, scribbling notes on their condition on a clipboard as the paramedic lists them off. Drunk, got in a fight, probably needs a few stitches but nothing life-threatening. Once it’s all written and clipped to the bed, he leaves the nurses to get things set up and steps out for a breath of air.

The paramedic is there, and on second glance, it’s Caitlyn, looking a little sheepish. He gives her a smile, which she returns with a little wave as he approaches. “Sorry for ditching you at the party. Vi hurt her arm...”

She’d just said girlfriend emergency when she left, but Jayce had assumed that was probably the nature of the emergency, knowing Vi. He waves a hand. “No big.”

“I take it you got home safe?” She’s got an odd look on her face.

“Yeah, I got a cab.”

“I’ve heard some weird rumors. They’re probably nothing, but... I figured you should know.”

He cocks his head. “What kind of rumors?”

“Well, people are saying you left with Viktor, the head of ortho.” Jayce doesn’t get a chance to respond, the blood rushing to his face giving him away. “...You didn’t.”

“It was nothing!” His arms cross over his chest. “I got a little, uh... I drank a little more than I meant to, and he got me a cab.”

“A cab home?”

Jayce looks away. He never wishes for more people to get hurt, but an emergency that would pull him away from this conversation would be really helpful right now.

“Jayce!”

“Apparently I wouldn’t tell him my address,” he admits, arms falling to his sides as his shoulders slump. “So he took me to his apartment to sleep it off. He slept on the couch! No funny business, nothing rumor-worthy.”

She looks smug, like she does when she thinks she’s connected the dots. “So that’s why he’s in such a weird mood,” she hums, tapping her chin with a finger.

“...Weird mood? What do you mean, weird mood?” He’s speaking too fast to sound normal. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh. Not that it matters. To me. But is he upset?”

“I was in the ortho department yesterday with Vi-- she had a pin put in, so we came for a consult on if it would affect her boxing.”

“Oh, shit. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. She broke her elbow on a dare. He told her to just lay off it for a few weeks. Somehow she never hurts herself badly enough to have any lasting consequences, thankfully...” Caitlyn rolls her eyes. “Anyway. Viktor was smiling at people. I asked one of the nurses and she said he’s been acting funny since the party. He even laughed at one of Vi’s terrible jokes.”

Jayce isn’t sure what that means, but it’s giving him that weird fluttering in his stomach again.

“I don’t think anyone has ever been to his apartment before -- at least, no one who works here now, anyway. He’s not exactly known for going out of his way for people like that.”

“Yeah, I guess not...”

“Dr. Talis?” The nurse pulls him back to earth. “We’re ready for you.”

“Right-- right. See you around, Cait.”

Caitlyn waves him off with that smug little smile, and he tries not to overthink.

#jayvik #jayce/viktor #maybe closer to league in viktor's tone but definitely closer to arcane in jayce's #also this is the first thing i've managed to finish in ages deadlines really do be what i need to get shit done #anyway thats all bye see you the next time i finish one of my zillion wips

4 notes · View notes

kitweewoos · 2 years

Note

❛ you’re more family to me than my own family is.❜

This prompt with Will and Stevie and Connor and Ava because I have a beautiful headcanon of Ava being gay or bi and she and Connor are great friends. Whenever you feel like it, even if it's just some thoughts and meta on their platonic relationships.

Hi Nade!!! Thanks for the prompt!!

Will and Stevie

They had met in med school, both of them far from Chicago in New York City, struggling almost in sync, vibrating at a similar frequency, and somehow, that worked for them. They didn't exactly get along, but Will didn't consider Stevie a rival. He couldn't. She was so much better than him in every way. But there was an inherent kindness in Stevie that Will strived to have, strived to cultivate. He stayed at her side, even if she didn't want him there, but she seemed not to mind his presence. She made him want to be better, study harder, and be a better student. He brought her takeout from the restaurant he worked at, and she brought him coffee when they studied together. They were independent beings that became one for a little while, even if she hated his boyfriend ("he's not even your boyfriend! he refuses to be seen with you in public! and he loves to degrade you! he's not your boyfriend!"). Where Stevie was, Will was sure to follow, and the same in reverse. When Will got his heart broken, she didn't say "I told you so" until he said it first. When Stevie sat down and told him that she was going to Denver for her residency, following a man she said she loved. Once, when she'd been incredibly drunk, leaned into Will, she admitted that she had no desire to marry a man, that she was pretty sure she was a lesbian, but if she ever came out to her mom, she'd lose what little she had of a family. So, it was and wasn't surprising when she followed Andrew into monogamy and across the country. But no matter where she went, no matter who they were dating, no matter what, they were friends, and even better, they were family. Stevie even admitted it once, sitting in her empty apartment right before she moved to Denver, before Will had driven her to meet Andrew at his place, where the moving van was parked, eating Chinese in the echoing room, saying goodbye to an era gone by, and to each other, if only for a little while.

"Hey, I need you to know that I will still be here with you, okay? I will still be here, even if I'm not in New York. You call me if Matt comes back around and I'll fuck him up. I will. You deserve better than that absolute piece of human trash. You call me whenever, wherever, doesn't matter. I have my phone on me. Just... call, okay? You're more family to me than my own family, and I need to know I won't lose you for this." "As if you could get rid of me now." "I mean it." "I will always have room in my life for you, Stevie Hammer." "I love you, too, Will Halstead."

Connor and Ava

Ava had come into his life exactly when he needed her to. Losing Doctor Downy had been hard, especially with how rocky his relationship with his dad had always been, especially recently since Connor had come out publicly. He was losing himself. He was lost in work, in trying to learn a new specialty, and keep the ED running smoothly. It was a lot, but he was a Rhodes. He was one of those Rhodes, and those Rhodes didn't fail. They weren't allowed to. So, he kept fighting, and working, and slipping, and slipping, and slipping..... and then there's Ava. Ava Bekker is a force of nature. She is bright, and aggressive, and the gayest woman he's ever met. She's unashamed to be a lesbian, wearing a little lesbian pride flag on her scrubs, and daring anyone to confront her about it. She's skilled, and doesn't back down from a challenge. She kept him working, yes, and learning, and getting better, but at the end of the day, she made sure he walked away from work and left the patients at the hospital. She took him to her favorite bar, and he took her to his favorite coffee shop, and it was a good partnership. He found it hilarious when someone insinuated that they were dating, or secretly together, and Ava would actively snort or make a noise. But sometimes, even Ava's presence wasn't enough to pull him out of his spirals, and when he was close to losing himself in what his father wanted him to be, Ava called in reinforcements. Will is sweet, and kind, and Connor has loved him since the day they met, at odds from the very first moment, and Ava knows that Connor loves him, so she knows what Connor needs, and it's Will's quiet stubborn love, and his soft touch, and gentle smile, that incredible bedside manner Connor admired, and then...

"Hey, can I talk to you?" "What's up?" "Thank you. For, everything. For holding me accountable. For, metaphysically, holding my hair back when I puke. And, for knowing exactly how to help me. It's just, I've never had a best friend before, and it's really, really nice to have you here, Ava. You're more family to me than my own family, so...." "Then you should know that you don't have to thank me for any of that. Just, you know, have my back, too." "I will." "Good, then.... you owe me a coffee for waking me up on my day off." "I'm already on my way."

#one chicago #chicago med #cmed #connor rhodes #ava bekker #stevie hammer #will halstead #platonic hamstead #platonic rhekker #background rhodestead #background coopstead #kit creates #prompt tag #platonic prompts

7 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

scrubs - 7.

PAIRING: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: have fun everybody xx

< previous chapter

She was stubborn. She’d always been stubborn from the moment he’d first seen her a few years ago and while he knew so many staff over his very long period at the hospital which had seen him do his own residency, he could not forget the first time he saw her. The first thought that popped into his mind was how cute she was in a clearly oversized lab coat as she followed her supervisor around carrying some stock. He’d offered to help her out yet she merely looked him up and down with a sarcastic smile before telling him she didn’t need his help. The exact same sarcastic smile she was wearing right now.

Time had barely weighed on her, after all, it hadn’t been that long ago and while her hair had changed, her defiance had remained. There weren’t a lot of people who defied doctors or even nurses, they had this sort of mystical tsar like dominance inside hospital walls yet not only she defied him, but she also had almost always the upper hand.

- Why would I do that? - she cocked her head to the side, eyebrow raised up as she taunted him.

- Because ... - he stood close to him, way too close for her to feel his breathe on her face. His finger traced the side of her jaw, slowly and with torturous intent before he leaned down to her ear. - You really get keyed up when I’m not inside you, doll.

Y/N’s cheeks heated up but she remained her composure, studying her opononent as if this was a chess match. Her eyes looked up at him, a small smile on her lips before she leaned in to kiss him. He melted into her kiss, pressing her against the wall as it became more intimate and lustful, yet it wasn’t messy. She was merely pressed against that wall, his lips molding with hers as his hands rested on her waist. Her hands rubbed up and down his chest, one of them resting upon the hard on visible from his scrubs. She squeezed his through his scrubs as her kisses leaned down from his lips to his jaw and neck, leaving enough lipstick marks to have people wonder.

- I guess I’m gonna be keyed up ... - she stopped the kiss before slipping from under him, her hand resting on the knob. - Knock yourself off, Dr. Stan.

Sebastian remained speechless as he watched her leave. Oh, oh she was wanting to be chased? He smirked to himself, grabbing his jacket before looking down at his erection. That was going to be a fun lunch break, he thought to himself. He allowed her to remain in his mind through his whole shift yet not on the way it usually remained. He wasn’t annoyed at her, it was something else. Maybe he did have an idea of what to do.

She on the other hand was busy dealing with her ever rushing thoughts about the doctor. She had a bright smile on her face every once in a while every time she thought about what she’d done. Sure, she knew she’d probably deal with the consequences of it the next time they spoke or when HR found out she kissed him in the middle of the reception hall but that was a future problem. She continued with that little smile even as she grabbed her bag, walking down the stairs down to her car, only to find the same man on her mind sat on the boot.

- Dr. Stan, you do realise you have to enter the car to actually drive it, correct?

- You are the most difficult woman I’ve ever met.

- I didn’t realise we were still fighting over the obvious. - she fished her purse for her keys.

- Let’s go on a date. - he jumped off the car. - Hopefully, you’ll end up in my bed as well.

- A date? Doctor Stan, the only thing I want to do is get takeaway from the little Italian restaurant next to my house and watch Netflix.

- Come on, doll. You gave me blue balls the whole day, least thing you can do is have a bite with me.

She poundered over the question for a little bit. Surely she wouldn’t want this going around the hospital or she would lose the little credibility she had in those halls yet, at the same time, she did enjoy her time with him no matter how much he attempted to get on her last nerve. She lowered her shoulder, letting out a sigh before holding up her keys in her fingers.

- You’re driving.

- I can’t drive such a tiny car. - he pointed at her baby blue Fiat 500, the very first car she’d ever bought and the only car she’ll ever have for all she cared.

- They say men with big cars are compensating for something. Got anything to hide, Dr. Stan? - she smirked as she opened her passenger door.

- You would know, wouldn’t you doll? - he caught the keys from her, pushing the driver’s seat back before closing the door. - Damn, this is a tiny car.

- You’re a tiny car.

- Is that all you have? I expected a better come back from you.

- Like you expected me to make you cum earlier?

He smiled to himself as he started the car. Sebastian honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d driven with someone by his side, much less a woman whom he wasn’t related to. Her car had such an aura to it, the aura of who she was outside of work. He’d never stopped to wonder who she was off work, what she liked, what she disliked; however, her playlist gave a quick peak into a bit of her tastes, a mix between musical theatre, sad pop music, c;assic music and Britney Spears. It made her rounded, more than the woman she was at the laboratory, more than the supervisor Y/N he was so used to have petty fights with. Everything in the car just yelled out who she was, from the little vanilla scent dangling off the mirror, the lipgloss on the side, a few books in the backseat and the car itself. He thought his car was so dull compared to hers, always so unlived in.

- Are we going to sit in silence or ... ? - she leaned against the head rest.

- Oh no, doll. I like not talking to you, you normally end up kissing me out of the blue. I could get used to that.

- That happened because you were a dick to me.

- That happened because you were jealous. Admit it, you like me.

She remained silent, looking at him through the corner of her eye with a childish smile. He drove past her favourite Italian, getting her reserved order before deciding to take them to his apartment. Sebastian was sure she wouldn’t want him in her flat, no one had really been there. She was a quiet person outside of her job, no one really knew what she exactly did or what she liked. He wondered what type of person she was outside of work but he could only imagine she had that same spark. That little thing which just made her the person he knew.She was always too big for that little hospital.

- You passed my street.

- I know. We’re going to my place. I know you’re a private person.

- Oh ... - she bite the inside of her lip, looking out the window. - That’s awfully thoughtful of you.

- Everything ok? - he asked but she merely nodded, leaning on her own hand yet the answer didn’t satisfy him. - You can talk to me, you know? I’m not all bad.

- I didn’t know you were a psychologist.

- Do you even have anyone to talk to? - he questioned, more in a joking manner than in a serious manner yet her face dropped. Her eyes darting to look out the window as she forced laughter. - C’mon people talk on dates.

- I have my parents but they’re not in the country. - she answered, pulling at the edge of her cuffs. - It’s only glamorous to work in a hospital if you’re a white male doctor.

- Something happened?

- Not important. - she changed the topic. - Pay attention to the road before you wreck my car.

Sebastian wanted to ask her, he really did, yet he doubtted she would open up to him. Maybe for good reason, after all, their relationship had been, somewhat, strictly professional for years. Nevertheless, it still tugged at the back of his mind even as he parked. Sebastian existed the car, carrying whatever it was she had ordered before opening the door for her.

Maybe it was the fact she had been extremely drunk the last time or that she was much more focused on getting him to fuck her but the view from his penthouse flat was something breath taking. She took small steps towards the balcony, holding out the rail as she looked up the city from the top. Everything looked so small, like her own personal sky full of stars. She could just look at it for hours and forget everything.

- Do you wanna eat out the packaging or do you want me to plate it? - he spoke to her from the kitchen. - Y/N?

- Whatever’s better for you. - she looked out her shoulder before returning to look at the city. Sebastian dropped the plates onto the marble countertops, abandoning his task to go and join her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if questioning what he was doing by her side.

- What’s bothering you?

- Nothing’s bothering me.

- You haven’t bullied me yet. You’re either really trying to get into my pants which is not hard at all, really just need to ask or you’re upset. Either way, I wanna help.

- You wouldn’t understand. - she leaned her arms on the railing.

- I don’t need to understand, I just wanna be there for you.

- So you wanna be my therapist? - she dryly chuckled. - I’ve just been hating my job.

- Everyone hates their job.

- I was the first in the family to go to university, the smart kid. I always did my best, gave up on a regular growing up because I needed to be the best to merely get the opportunities other people had. I worked hard, graduated top of my class and when I got this job I was so happy. - she shakily sighed. - But now I just hate it. I do everything I can, I do the best and beyond, edit company SOPs and training forms and I’m still treated like scum. I just thought that with a degree I would do what I like but instead I’m stuck in that job, unable to do what I like because it doesn’t pay the bills. I interview all the time and it’s always a no. I’m just unhappy, alone and lonely.

- You’re not alone. You have that friend ... what’s her name?

- Miriam? Try being friends with someone who’s recently engaged.

- I’m sorry. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I didn’t know you felt that way, Y/N. That’s awful.

- Thanks, Dr. Stan. I appreciate it. - she saluted him sarcastically.

- You need to let people in.

- I’ve already let you in.

- Not like that. - he chuckled. - You’re always so uptight. Don’t get me wrong, I love it but other people don’t.

- I don’t really care if people like me. I’m used to it.

- Thank god I like you then. - he kissed her shoulder. - And not just when you’re naked and under me. I like talking to you, baby doll. You should quit that job.

- And you’d pay for my tiny flat?

- No. You’d move here and walk around naked with your glasses talking to me about how dumb I am about microbiology.

- Is that what turns you on?

- You’ll be ok. I promise you. - he pulled her close to him. - Besides, if anyone ever treats you like scum, you let me know and I will make their life very hard. I can be a nuissance.

- I know. - she leaned her head against his shoulder. - It’s a date now.

taglist: @rebekahdawkins

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan au #doctor!sebastian stan

81 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Text

Nemesis - Part 3

This part is a little more plot heavy, but I added in some nice Whumpy bits too! I hope you guys enjoy, and thanks everyone for their suggestions!

Also, the next part of this may be a bit late, as I’m planning for my next piece to be the continuation of Villainsicle!

CW//Mentions of law enforcement, mentions of therapy/treatments, restraints, medical abuse, begging, screaming, forced sedation, needles, blood

Open the door.

It would be so simple. The entrance was constructed of little more than wood and a flimsy lock. Even someone without the benefit of powers could break it. And, based on what Hero had seen so far of this place, it may not have even been locked.

Just open it.

Open the door, and they could sleep again.

Open the stupid door.

But...

Hero’s hands clenched into fists, their gaze moving upwards, fixing upon the metal plaque upon the door.

‘43′

Beyond the simple plank of wood, their nemesis was laying. Suffering. Trapped in their own mind.

They could open the door, just twist the knob, and save them. In any other time, any other instance, it was what they would have done. They knew the way the others spoke of them, joked about them. Saying they’d jump off a bridge, even if their friends hadn’t done it first. They couldn’t control their impulses. That was what Leader always wrote, in the reports. Impulsive. Reckless.

That’s what they were. Reckless.

But that was back when it didn’t matter. That was back when the only one in danger was them. Hero. Now that Villain was part of the equation?

They had to think. They had to be smart.

Hero bit their tongue with enough force that the taste of bloody iron washed over their taste buds.

They didn’t open the door.

Around the corner, a doctor in blue scrubs furrowed their brow, and dipped away to make a phone call.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“If I’m being completely honest, Hero, I wasn’t expecting you to contact me again.”

Hacker spoke with their head down, sheepish, as though a child apologizing for breaking a toy.

Again, the two sat in the same diner: It was busy, but crowded enough that they could simply blend into the lunch rush without fuss. To avoid questions, the both of them had ordered an appetizer, though neither of them had much of an appetite to speak of.

“You weren’t? Why’s that?”

“I mean...” They leaned back in their seat, pressing their spine against the padded booth seat back. “I didn’t think you’d care? That sounds kind of rude now that I’m saying it out loud but... The stuff I was showing you, I assumed you were already aware of it.”

“You thought I knew the way Villain was being treated?”

“Kind of? That’s the kind of stuff they tell you, right?”

“Eh...” Hero dropped their gaze. “Not really. That’s not our business. We catch the crook, what happens to them after isn’t really our focus.”

Hacker frowned.

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“So you didn’t know?”

“Not at all. I knew they were at that facility but... I thought it was fine. I thought Villain was fine.”

“Maybe I should have told you sooner, then.”

“You knew?”

“Well.” There came the embarrassment once more, their cheeks flushing. “For the scale of your organization, your cybersecurity is a little... lacking. Everything from that rehab facility, it’s stored on an off-site backup. Their on-site security is decent, but once it goes through that external data channel, it’s caught right in my net.”

“Is that right?”

“Don’t tell anyone, please?”

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it. I have much bigger problems than low level hackers.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not to say you’re a low-level hacker.”

“That’s better. Then, if you’re not here to like, arrest me-”

“That’s what you thought I was doing?”

“Kinda. If that’s not what you want, what do you want?”

“I want to know more.”

Hero had made the decision upon planning this meeting that they were not to tell Hacker about their visit to the facility. Despite the aid they had already offered, it was hard to trust someone who admitted to criminality with such nonchalance. And, besides, Hero was almost certain that their superiors wouldn’t be happy to know about their distraction.

“More?”

“You’ve been watching them for a while, right? I want to know more. Everything about Villain, everything about the whole place. How much do you know?”

“A lot. I have a considerable amount of files, though I have no way of knowing how many more there are that I don’t have. How many they keep on-site.”

“But you have information?”

“I have a lot of junk. Taxes, insurance, quarterly reports, formalities. Prescriptions for mundane crap like, I don’t know, allergies. But, I think I have a few diamonds in the rough. You’re going to have to be more specific than that, though. I do need something to work off of.”

Hero nodded, biting their lip. They hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead.

They were getting Villain out of that so-called rehab facility. They knew that much. But they needed to be smart about it. They needed information. They needed to know how they could get their friend- foe out of that place quickly, safely, and with as little noise as possible.

“The facility.” They began. “How does it work? It’s a relatively small facility housing a relatively large number of dangerous criminals. How do they... help them? They’re not all treated like Villain, right?”

“I don’t think there’s enough drugs on the continent to keep them all like Villain. Their methods of treatment are... unclear. The patient reports indicate what therapies each one is undergoing, but they don’t have names. Just numbers. Codes. Whatever they do in there, they keep it in house. My doctor friends have never heard of any of it, before.”

“Then how do they do it? Drugs?”

“If they have some kind of secret therapy, I don’t know about it. But they do have something else. They call it AMRS.”

“AMRS?”

“The Automatic Magnetic Restraint System. A fancy name for a crude practice. They’re vague about it, of course, but from what I can tell, each resident wears these four ring things. Bracelets, it calls them. One on each wrist, one on each ankle. A single push of a button, and they all link together. Any escape stopped in a second.”

“That seems...”

“Cruel? Yeah. But I guess it could be worse. As far as how the facility operates, though, that’s all I have. It’s not drugs, as far as I can tell. I have those dosage reports for everyone, and those that take medicine seem to do so for genuine medical conditions. Insulin, epilepsy medication, that kind of thing.”

“None of the others are sedated?”

“Not officially.”

“But Villain...”

“I think if they were any more heavily sedated, they’d go right from a temporary sleep to a permanent one.”

“You mean-”

“They’d die, yes. It’s called a euphemism, dumbass.”

“I know that. So, what about Villain, do you have anything else on them?”

“They’ve been kept heavily sedated since they arrived. Regular patient records, they just... don’t have them. No behavior reports, no treatment reports, nothing.”

“I guess they’re not really treating them.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ve really been kept like this, ever since I- Ever since they arrived?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.”

“Then it wasn’t reactionary.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t try to like, blow up the facility, or kill up all the staff, or anything?! They were just knocked out. Locked up. They weren’t even given a chance to be good?”

Hacker lowered their gaze, nodding.

“Why?”

“Are you sure you want-”

“You know why?”

“I’m not certain, but-”

“Show me.”

Hacker startled a bit, but nodded once more, starting up their beast of a laptop and typing for a considerable amount of time. Hero could not help but hold their breath, and when the computer was at last turned to face them, they felt about to pass out.

“Wait.” Hacker spun the computer back. “You need to promise me something, first.”

“What?” Hero hated how desperate they sounded.

“Whatever you do, after you see this... please, just think it through.”

“Okay.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

The screen was returned to Hero.

They halfway expected another video feed. A video of Villain, destroying and killing and doing something, anything to deserve their current treatment.

Instead, they were faced with an email. Or, at least, a screenshot of one. Passed through enough computers that the jpeg artifacts had begun to show.

An email from Director to Head Doctor.

The text was simple. Curt. A simple request to destroy a life.

“I am certain that you are aware of the new patient you will be intaking tomorrow. I request that you do not classify them among the other patients. Normal intake procedures will be unnecessary. You need only keep them contained. Alive if you can, dead if you must.

Villain must never see the light of day again. I trust that you will be able to accomplish this.

Thank you-- Do not forget that we will be meeting for lunch next Wednesday.”

Not even a hundred words. That was all it took, to turn a spirited fighter to a vegetable.

“Thank you, Hacker. I think... I think I need to go home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hero’s parting from the restaurant was sudden enough to make several other patrons look up. Hacker could not help but feel embarrassment well up in their chest. They hated being out in public like this.

They figured, even with the cold food sitting before them, they should be going. Finger on their mouse, they closed the email on the screen, revealing-

Not their desktop.

They had forgotten. They had meant to show Hero and they had forgotten.

Now, the video sat there, waiting. A chipper white arrow informing them that it was ready to play at any time.

They shouldn’t have. Hell, they could have at least waited to go home. But...

Hacker plugged in a set of earbuds, setting the buds themselves in their ears.

They clicked play.

Even on the rather low-quality security camera footage, the crash was loud enough to make Hacker jump. Three lab-coated figures, a mess of limbs and white coats, leapt atop the hospital gown wearing person like a predator after prey.

Villain was not facing the camera, but it made no difference. Their voice made them more than distinctive enough.

“Get the fuck off of me! Get off get off get off!“ The scream was loud enough to break the microphone’s volume filter, turning into a single, mournful screech.

If the labcoats heard, they did not listen. They positioned themselves along their captive’s body-- one holding their legs, one the arms, and one forcing their face to the tile.

“Please!”

The fourth figure wore a different outfit, a pair of blue scrubs, though the camera quality made them appear almost grey. Represented by only a few pixels, the syringe in their hand was none the less distinctive.

“Hold them still, please.” The doctor muttered, kneeling down beside Villain, their hysterical screaming not missing a beat.

“No! No! Please, please don’t do this! I don’t want to go! Please!”

There were no comforting words. Only the satisfied nodding of the head doctor as their needle slipped deftly to a vein and administered its contents.

“What is that, what is that, no no no please!”

A nurse handed down another syringe, and another, and another. The timestamp in the video’s corner dragged on in agonizing slowness as new pinpricks of blood welled up over Villain’s skin.

It took only a few minutes for their screaming to stop. Then their thrashing. Then, they closed their eyes.

It would be a long, long time until they opened them again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Of course, home was not a place of rest. Not as much as Hero would have liked it to be. They were not a civilian-- they were not that lucky. They did not have the chance to return home to a soft bed and a loving family.

No. When they went home, they went to work.

It was only past noon when they returned home to the HQ. A time at which the towering building stood largely abandoned, its occupants leaving in droves to flood the nearby restaurants like a locust swarm.

Riding the elevator to the floor containing their quarters, Hero hoped beyond hope that their team, too, had gone out.

But, of course, they had no such luck.

They didn’t even make it to their quarters. No, as soon as the elevator doors opened, their heart sunk.

“I saw you walk in.” Leader’s arms were crossed over their chest, a single eyebrow raised. “Let’s go to my office.”

“I was just about to go back to my dorm-”

“Actually, you were just about to follow my orders and go to my office.”

Hero slumped their shoulders. They didn’t have the energy to fight this, especially since they knew it was a fight they couldn’t win.

Leader’s office was a place they had all visited, though never under good circumstances. It was far too immaculately kept for what it was used for, a solid oak desk standing in a room well decorated with house plants and bookshelves. Leader took their seat, and Hero reluctantly did the same, across from them.

“So,” Leader began--they were not one for formalities. “When exactly when you planning on telling me?”

“If you’re going to yell at me about something, you at least have to tell me what.”

“Teammate told me, yesterday. They found out why you’re getting so distracted.”

Hero dropped their gaze. They weren’t exactly surprised about this. They only hoped Teammate had kept their mouth shut about their plans.

“It’s really nothing.” Hero tried. “I’ll get over it.”

“This anniversary you’re getting so upset over was ten days ago. By the time you get over it, another year will have already passed. So, no. You’re not getting out of it that easily. I need to know what’s gotten you so worked up.”

Hero gripped the arm of their chair.

“I’m worried. That’s all. Worried about Villain. It’s been too long. They’ve been so silent for so long.”

Leader frowned.

“I can personally assure you that Villain is being well taken care of. The rehabbers have more experience than you could imagine.”

“That’s just it! Villain spent so long terrorizing the city, and they’re still here. But they’re so quiet.”

Leader sighed, sitting up straight in their chair.

“This isn’t just a minor distraction. You need to know that. It’s reflecting on your performance, and heavily. Enough that Director has noticed.”

“Director?”

“Yes. They asked me about the situation, and I informed them of your current problem. They stated that, if it really is such a concern to you, they can have Villain moved to another facility. Somewhere farther.”

“No!”

“What? They think it would help, really. Out of sight. Out of mind.”

“No. They need to be here.”

“And why would that be?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Leader can help. Tell the truth - Should Hero tell Leader about Director’s role in Villain’s condition?

B.) Leader can also ruin the whole operation. Lie - What should Hero do next?

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #nemesis #choose your own adventure #choose your own whump #villain whumpee #hero villain whump #drugged whumpee

64 notes · View notes

atsunflower · 4 years

Text

Hospital for souls — The Line

Rated: SFW

Author note: I gotta nothing to say. This took me really long and I struggled a lot to write it. Thanks for being patient with me. Also, big shoutout to @neonghxst, who helped me a lot with this one. I love you bby 💕

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of anxiety and this chapter contains gore towards the end.

IV — The line

Previous || Next

"I don't wanna go" Your voice showed distaste at the invitation.

Since the fight with Sakusa, you avoided all human contact like the plague. The only ones that talked to you were the maids and, occasionally, Komori, who had warmed up to you since you saved his ass — to be honest, you weren't very fond of his change of character.

"Listen, you're the new lady of this household." Komori explained in a tired manner."This gala is held every year in some sort of diplomatics, to grant no family crosses the line. All the important members must make a presence."

"Yeah, but I'm sure no one cares if I don't show up." You deadpanned looking at his face.

"It's just a fancy ass party. I'll take you to get a dress myself, but I gotta run some errands and find a suit too. If I'm late, then Izuna will take you." Komori saw you stiffening when you heard the name. Ever since you arrived in Itachiyama, Izuna was the most hostile towards you. "Hey, don't worry about him... He'll be nice."

"I gotta remind you that no one has been nice to me since I came here, Komori-san." You stated the obvious and the male before you grimaced.

"Look, we're not as bad as you think. Neither we are some sort of low life criminals, you know." His voice sent shivers down your spine. The hazel-haired man has been treating you better, yes, but you could tell the words you said to Sakusa that day affected him too.

"Yeah. But you all did nothing to prove me wrong." You stared at his eyes, the sincere tone meaning each world "If anything, all you did was make me miserable even though I'm not a threat. And you know it." You saw when the hazel haired male shook his head, face softening a little.

"I'll be back in a few." And then, Komori left.

To your relief, it was Komori himself who showed up at your bedroom door. Now, you were at some boutique somewhere in the fancy side of Shibuya, trying a beautiful strappy off-white dress.

You loved how the silky cloth hugged your body and how the pearly color complimented your skin tone. Definitely, it was the propper gown for an event as important as a mafia gala.

Taking in the figure reflected in the mirror, you recalled the last time you wore something so fancy was at your wedding. Suddenly, you felt ugly — after all, you were a woman of surgical scrubs and white coats. Wearing something like this dress was a reminder of what kind of life you were living now.

"[Name]-san, have you decided?" Komori asked with an undecipherable look on his face.

"Ah, yes, I'm taking this one" You said to the salesperson, already getting back to the changing room.

From the inside, you heard a knock on the door. It was Komori.

"[Name], are you good?" He asked in a soft spoken manner, as if he was concerned.

You know it's not the case, don't let your guard down, you reminded yourself.

"Yes, Komori-san. Are we ready to go?" He hummed in agreement, saying he was going to do the payment.

The two of you had yet to arrive in Itachiyama. The silence was heavy inside the car and you could see the man opening his mouth as if he was trying to say something.

"I never asked, did you see a doctor?" You started, breaking the unnerving atmosphere.

"Ah, yes. I'm all good, no sequels or whatever." He cleared his throat, side-glancing at you "Those guys took us by surprise that night, huh? We were lucky you were there to help us out." You hummed, staring at his elbow, as if you could see through the material of his jacket.

"I shouldn't have opened your arm that way. It was really irresponsible of me to do it and it was a miracle things ended up well."You said in a reflecting manner.

Does she regret saving me?, Komori couldn't help but wonder.

"The doctor I saw said the surgery was perfectly executed, so don't beat yourself over it. Besides, I can see the passion you have. You'd make it right anyways." The male said truthfully and you frowned. You didn't want his trust because he would never have yours.

You also didn't like the appreciative tone he used. A doctor isn't a hero, You reminded yourself everyday, to never let it go to your head.

"I'm passionate, but it's about my personal ethics, you don't need passion to be good at what you do. I think you know it very well." You still frowned, not liking what he implied. You never wanted to be some sort of hero, much less to someone like him.

"Yeah, I don't need to love the yakuza to be good at it. But I don't think a passionless person would make a good doctor." He argued, trying to prove his point.

"In my line of work, a mistake costs your whole career. Passionless and unethical people exist everywhere, a hospital isn't a sanctuary." You said matter of factly — it wasn't about the romantic lenses people saw the health workers. After all, medicine was a field made majorly of people with the means and the money. You learned it the hard way when you made into med school.

"Why would you say that?" The traffic light signalled to stop. The Kobun used this opportunity to take in your figure, eyes roaming over your crossed arms and unfazed features.

Duty takes a toll in everyone, huh?, He internally stated.

"Because I know someone. And as passionless someone could be, he's still the best at what he does." And Komori didn't miss the feeling displayed in your eyes.

It wasn't merely passion. Something deeper resided in those irises of yours.

An awkward silence overtook the atmosphere as the car resumed its movement. He felt uncomfortable, trying to figure out what you meant.

"Well, what matters is that everything ended up well. Who would have guessed they would attack us that night?" Komori conceded, trying to break the unsettling quietness.

"Yeah, this whole yakuza thing is really scary." You said looking through the tinted window, a pensive look in your face.

"You'll get used to it. And it doesn't happen on a daily basis either" He brushed you off, turning in a curb.

"Yeah, but ignoring the threat isn't an easy task." You retorted, tiredly.

"How do you know it? Besides, since you're our lady, it's not like we'll let something happen to you." The brunette said, in hopes of comforting you. It had the opposite effect, as a silent rage ran down your body.

"Komori-san, how do I know?" You bitterly laughed "My whole life, I was at the line. My mother didn't want me to be born, Inarizaki wanted my head since I was in the womb and you guys will get rid of me at any given opportunity." You saw him opening his mouth to argue "Your household won't protect me if the order comes from Sakusa."

As if in a cue, the car approached the gates of Itachiyama. Komori was rendered speechless, knowing you were right.

Personally, you weren't one to offend people and make them feel bad. You couldn't help the pang in your chest every time you exploded at any of them. But by god, were you tired.

I just want my life back, you thought. After all, it was infinite times easier to be a target when you were somehow detached from the life inside the families. The Kobun said something you paid no mind to.

Banging the car door shut, you ignored his calling.

The nagging feeling was a constant in his life.

Roaming through his memories, he could never pinpoint a time he felt comfortable under his skin. He was too anxious and life never treated him kindly to do so.

Maybe he overreacted a lot, too. But it wasn't his fault he had to be hyper aware of his surroundings.

The alert state was essential in an ambience full of people who could stab him in the back.

Fuck the diplomatics, he cursed.

It was one of those nights he hated the most. The suntuous ballroom was full of people going back and forth, bragging about futilities and throwing insincere flattery at each other. All because the ever so generous Karasuno was hosting a dinner at The Crow to assure no one disturbs the deal between the families.

Bullshit, he thought. It's only Karasuno trying to show off their influence over this frail peace.

And, as much as he appreciated said peace, he hated how everyone faked they got along with each other.

Not that he cared about politeness either. And his signature scowl did nothing to keep people away. After all, everyone wanted a piece of Itachiyama.

"Kiyoomi." The ravenette heard the deep voice from his back. A wave of relief washed over him.

At least, Wakatoshi-kun is here. I won't die from boredom, He mused.

"Wakatoshi." He responded, nodding at the other. From outside Itachiyama, Ushijima was the only one Sakusa considered a friend.

"I thought you wouldn't come tonight, I know you don't really like the crowd."

"People would find weird if I didn't, considering Inarizaki and everything."

"Speaking of which, did you bring your wife?" Ushijima asked, looking around. Sakusa nodded before speaking.

"Yeah, she went to the restrooms. Komori is with her." And speaking of the devil, you came into view.

He knew you had a fine taste for things, and he would be a fool to say you didn't look good tonight. But he would never admit it.

A Miya isn't worth you time, he repeated it like a mantra, observing as you made your way onto him.

Komori enthusiastically greeted Ushijima and you merely nodded out of politeness, looking at the bulky male with caution. Given Ushijima's intimidating vibes, Sakusa couldn't really blame you.

"I see you're Sakusa's wife. I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi." He offered his hand at you "It's a pleasure to meet you"

"Likewise, Ushijima-san" You introduced yourself as the Oyabun of Itachiyama watched the scene unfold before him, recalling how his friend was the blunt and introverted type. He couldn't help but admire the way the two of you conversed smoothly; earning Ushijima's sympathy required effort. You did it with ease.

"She's a good woman." Sakusa didn't see when your conversation died down and Ushijima turned to him. He found himself dumbfounded at the other's statement.

"She's a Miya"

"She worked with Shirabu. He spoke highly of her" A waiter passed by offering them whiskey. The rich scent of Yamazaki reached his nostrils as he drank it, throat used to the burning sensation "And you know he's not one to lie."

"Still…" His retort was halted when he felt the weight of a gaze on him. In the far corner of the room, none other than Oikawa Tooru had all his attention turned to the general direction of you all "What is he looking at?" He squinted at the brunette's direction, trying to make out his intentions.

"He seems to be looking at your wife" Ushijima bluntly spoke "But don't worry about him, Oikawa may have his reasons. He is a reliable man, after all."

"You're indeed soft today. What happened?" The other opened his mouth to respond before being interrupted by a startled voice.

Your husband was doing a good job ignoring you while speaking to Ushijima — you wouldn't complain, since you didn't want any of his attention.

Listening to Komori speaking wonders of the whiskey he was drinking, you felt a little at ease. You imagined the gala to be much scarier than this, but all you could see was snotty people too full of themselves. It was almost comical hearring them bragging about things you couldn't even dream of.

"This is a 25 years old Yamazaki. It's a favorite of mine and Kiyoomi—"

"Is this real life?" A surprised voice cutted Komori's middle sentence.

Before you, a handsome man looked appalled, staring at you with an emotion you couldn't identify. You were feeling uncomfortable as everyone around you was paying attention to your interaction.

"I'm sorry, sir. But am I supposed to know you?" You asked, in hopes to remember if you knew him by any chance. He beamed brightly at you.

"Of course you wouldn't remember me!" And he laughed again, earning a frown from your husband.

"Do you have any business to do with my wife?" Sakusa's cold-steel voice asked. The pretty man ignored it. And, at this point, everyone in the area stopped their actions, watching the scene with interest.

"I'm Oikawa Tooru, the Oyabun of Seijoh. Two years ago, you saved my nephew's life in an accident at the Dinosaur Bridge, only using a needle. After it, you held his hand until the ambulance came." The man bowed deeply, and only now you noticed he was accompanied by another spiky-haired male, who was also bowing at you. Observing them, you faintly remembered saving a little boy in a traffic accident a couple of years ago "For that, I'll be forever thankful. In return, I wanted to say you have Seijoh's gratitude whenever you need it." He stood tall again, staring at you dead in the eye to confirm he meant every single word he said.

You were speechless.

"I… sir, I'm thankful, but I did what had to be done. You don't owe me anything." You said uncertainly, glancing at the startled faces of both Komori and Sakusa. Ushijima looked fondly at you, as if he knew something.

"You had a choice that day, and you choosed to help us when we couldn't do anything. And it's enough for us to pay you back." The spiky-haired man said. It was rare for someone to address you with so much respect and sincerity. You appreciated it wholeheartedly.

"I— thank you." And you bowed at them, trying to show your gratitude to both males.

"Well, we won't disturb you anymore. Please have a good night" The Oikawa guy said, handing you a business card which you secluded inside your clutch.

"See?" You heard Ushijima saying, but you were too stunned to register it.

You didn't have time to process the event, as someone announced the dinner was about to be served.

"Seijoh's favour, huh? You sure are skyrocketing this mafia thing." Suna said, sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

You all were addressed to a table with ten seats. It looked like Itachiyama was paired up with Inarizaki and another household you were yet to discover. The atmosphere was already stiff, as Sakusa kept throwing dirty glares at the twins.

"Impressive how you're doing well inside the yakuza. I thought you weren't going to last a month." Atsumu snickered as Osamu and the others ignored everything around them, getting ready for the dinner.

You mimicked their actions before Izuna joined you; you tensed seeing him taking the seat by your left.

Sakusa sat by your right, side-glancing at you. It looked like he had a newfound interest since the interaction with Oikawa earlier.

To your surprise, Seijoh was addressed to your table. Though, both Oikawa and Iwaizumi — Suna let you know his name and the fact he was also a Kobun — said nothing, sensing the tension hanging in the air.

None of the men said anything as the food started to be served. Instead, they busied themselves with the entree, keeping the smalltalk inside their household circle.

You heard Osamu saying something about the wine but you didn't register it. Soon enough, the waiters brought the main course in silver trays.

It smelled fabulous and your mouth watered at the scent.

"A lovely meal for the lady. Please enjoy it, I'm sure you won't forget this occasion." The blond waiter said, as he uncovered your plate. You took in the deep red sauce made of berries and the way the meat was perfectly cooked.

With fork and knife in hand, you went for it.

And indeed, you wouldn't forget the occasion.

Sliding the meat over the plate, you noticed it hiding something. The scream was caught in your throat as you recognized the obnoxious structure, because years of unveiling the human anatomy would never fail you.

The cutlery clattered in the porcelain surface, spilling the sauce all over you. The white of your dress was now tainted with crimson, as if blood seeped out of your chest.

But you didn't even feel it. All you felt were hands shaking your body, trying to draw some reaction from you. The screams also came in a white noise through your ears, because all you could register was the sight before your eyes.

In the middle of the plate, a finger rested limp and dirty. Dead.

In a similar manner, you did too.

Among the chaos, you sat there, also limp and dirty. At the end of a promise of death.

❥ tagging: @keekee-732 @chiibichann @captain-shittykawa @fortheloveofiwaizumi @daisyjaebae @jihoonspout @floodinginstars @fl4mepillar @trash4sportsanime @neonghxst @starrystanze @teaanbiss @hqxreader @yskomiii @shadyjinyoung @julimausi1311 @hyoonx23 @keuromi @differentballooncollection @onigiriimiya @wolfiepirate @sekshi-namjas @tomo-uwu @atsumusgf @letmegetthisclear @katokanae @cherryonigiri @ushijima-meixiu @bimboiiying @crownedcupcake17 @tvwhoresblog @thenerdyrebel @idiot-juice-enthusiast @caprolls @keijination @wakaitoshi @clowninfortodoroki @shiningotak-ku @kemochie @lilacshouko @sehunosh @kiyoojima @shimy-deko @bap-kingdom @raenebalgaire @ricefarmerkita @rintarose @xanaxdeity @reiningsun

Taglist is closed (50/50)

#sakusa scenarios #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#hq sakusa #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut

365 notes · View notes

pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Note

Thanks for getting back to me so quickly! I’m the one that asked about the fic recs ☺️ could you please do a fic where jolex have a cute tickle fight with all the fluff in the world?? Thank you 🙏🏼

oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up

this took so long to fulfill like holy crap. I’m so sorry about that. I had to improvise a bit, because jolex is so not the tickling kind of couple and much more of a ‘slap dat booty’ kinda pair you know? But hey, i don’t think that anyone is complaining about jolex babies, right?

again, thank you all SO MUCH for 100 followers! i still can’t believe how crazy that is! this is super fluffy so yeah, i hope you enjoy it! also, tickle scenes are so much harder to write than i expected...

Alex Karev peeled his bloody surgical gloves off with a relaxed sigh, taking off his gown and tossing it into the bin while simultaneously telling a resident to finish closing up for him. When he gets back to the scrub room he leans against the sink, hands taking hold of the sturdy metal, closing his eyes for a minute because it feels like he can finally breathe.

His surgery had gone on for seven hours. The kid on the table crashed twice and had lost so much blood at one point he didn’t think the boy was going to make it. Luckily, thanks to skilled hands, surprisingly helpful residents, and Meredith Grey, nine year old Mike Harper was going to be okay. He removes his scrub cap from his head, tucking it into his pants and running a hand through his hair before turning on the faucet and putting his hands under the water, scrubbing off with the bar.

He shakes his hands dry, little water droplets flying here and there before exiting the room, traveling down the brightly lit halls of the surgical floors until he reaches the elevator. He clicks the button for the ground floor, where the parents are waiting. From there it was routine procedure. He tells the couple that their kid is gonna be alright, they cry tears of joy, they thank him, they ask when they can see their son, he informs them that they’re closing up right now, so he should be relocated to the PICU soon, and they thank him again before sitting back down.

Alex makes his evening rounds on patients, goofing and joking with them until he’s done and can finally head home. He’d been on call for the past sixteen hours, and all he really wants to do is go home and see his girls.

Unfortunately, he learned from the nurses that Jo was pulled into an emergency surgery a few hours earlier, and had yet to finish, so he didn’t know how long it would be until she was done. He changes out of his scrubs and into his regular clothes, bidding a short goodbye to Meredith, who laid sprawled out on the attendings lounge couch, grumbling that she was trying to sleep and he was making too much noise to allow her to do so.

Adjusting his old, ratty jacket on his shoulders, he slips his phone, wallet, and keys into his pocket, making his way up to the daycare where the littlest Karev was waiting. The worker, Patricia gives him a warm smile, sliding the sign out sheet across the counter.

“Hey Doctor Karev! Picking up I'm assuming?” she gestures towards his attire, making him nod in response.

“Yeah. I know Jo usually finishes first on Fridays, but she got called in at the last minute.” he says, which earns him an understanding chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be right out. She was just taking a brief nap, but don’t worry, she’s only been down for about fifteen minutes or so.” she reassures him.

He nods, shoving his hands in his jeans, pulling out his phone and checking the time. 7:23 pm. It was getting closer to his daughter’s bedtime, so it would make sense that she would start to be getting tired. Alex smiles at his lockscreen, a picture of him, Jo, and their little girl at her two year old birthday party a few months ago. Jo had gone all out, decorating their yard with extravagant streamers, decorative backdrops, and a huge bouncy house. In the picture that stared back at him, Jo and their freshly two year old toddler were both wearing pink, Jo’s in the form of a sheer blouse, and their daughter’s in a frilly dress that Jo spent way more money than she should’ve on. Alex matched, wearing a pink tie and white button down. He had refused immensely at first, but after much pleading from the tiny girl, he gave in. Because what kind of father could say no to puppy dog eyes?

“Daddy!” he sees the little bundle of blue run towards him, causing him to sweep down and pull her into his arms, bunching the thick fabric she was wearing.

“KK!” he exclaims, matching her enthusiasm, taking the backpack from Patricia, giving a silent nod to her as a way to say both ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’.

His daughter bounced in his arms as they made their way through the door, asking to be let down a few seconds later. Donned in a Cinderella dress up gown and purple converse, Katrina Karev started to race down the hallway in all her glory, the mini ponytail that Jo had done that morning swinging from side to side as she prompted Alex to come catch her. He lets out a small laugh, jogging to catch up to her before she can potentially get in the way of nurses coming in and out of rooms, scooping her up again, making her let out a loud squeal and turn into a fit of giggles.

“C’mon Kitty-Kat, we gotta go home.” he places her on the ground, holding her tiny hand in his. “No running. What have Mommy and I told you?”

Katrina sighs, puffing out her lips dramatically. “No running in hossal.” she grumbles. She had trouble pronouncing words that had a sharp sound to them, like ‘p’, ‘t’, and ‘j’, but both Alex and Jo found it quite adorable.

“That’s right. Because Mommy and Daddy’s friends are working really hard to help everyone, and we don’t want to get in their way, right Kat?” he reminds her of the rules, because as much as both he and Jo wished that they could say that their child was perfectly well behaved, she wasn’t. It was simply what having a kid was like. He’d never met a child who listened to every word their parent’s said, followed every rule, and never talked back. And despite what so many different television programs liked to show, it was completely normal for kids to be that way, no matter how crazy it drove the adults.

Kat murmurs in response, taking on her Dad’s grumpy persona. She wanted to run! She’d been inside of daycare with Scout all day, playing with blocks and crayons, which meant that she was stuck sitting. She wasn’t allowed to play tag in the circle room, no matter how much she asked Miss Lynn.

The duo makes their way to Alex’s car, unlocking it before lifting her up and strapping Katrina into her carseat, brushing back a couple strands of hair that had fallen in her face. He slides his way into his drivers side, revving up the car when Kat speaks from the back.

“Music Daddy, music!” she cheers, a crooked grin across her face as she bounces around in her seat.

Alex lets out a breath. As much as he loved his daughter, listening to the same exact Disney princess songs over and over were less than enjoyable. So far this week, he’d heard Let It Go twelve times, You're Welcome ten, and Be Our Guest seven, and those were just the most popular ones. He begrudgingly picks up his phone and puts on Into the Unknown, thankful that this was only his second time hearing it in the last couple of days. He swore that if Kat asked him to listen to Dyawne Johnson singing that damn song one more he was going to hurl himself out of the car.

Little hums come from the backseat during certain parts of the song, and when the chorus plays through the car he mentally prepares himself for the yells that were to come. Poor Kat couldn’t sing, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. What kind of monster tells his two year old daughter that she sounded like a dying cat? Katrina Karev was good at a lot of things, (math, spelling, and playing dress-up just to name a few) singing just wasn’t one of them.

With a more than relieved sigh he pulls into the driveway, turning off the car, and therefore the music. Whatever tiredness the toddler was feeling before had gone down the drain, so he knew it would be a while before he would be able to get her to bed. Kat unbuckles herself, getting out of the car and playing hopscotch with the homemade chalk version she and Jo made on the walkway up to the house’s door. She hops from one foot to the other, and Alex had never been more grateful for the fact that she had a good sense of balance. The last thing he wanted was Jo to come home to a bloody kneed Kat and have to explain to her that she fell while doing hopscotch. Honestly, he didn’t even think kids played that game anymore, but when Jo pulled out the sidewalk chalk a few days prior and started drawing, Kat was immediately hooked, and used every opportunity she could to hop across the little squares. Jo laughed when she saw how entranced the girl was, telling Alex that she had been the same way when she was a bit older, and the only thing that got her through some of the tougher houses was when she would go down the road and create a hopscotch game of her own. It became such a comfort in fact, that the tradition continued until she was a teenager. She told him that it would only seem right to share that little bit of joy from her childhood with her daughter.

They make their way up the steps and Alex unlocks the door, flipping on the light switch as soon as it swings open. Chilly air greets them, since the house hadn’t been in use since earlier that day, and the temperature had been in the low fifties the past week in Seattle. He lets Kat toddle up the stairs, walking over to the thermostat that sat the hallway and cranking it up, knowing that if there was one thing his wife liked coming home to more than her family, it was her family in a warm and toasty house.

“KK, you hungry?” he calls from the kitchen, being able to faintly hear footsteps padding around upstairs. He winces when he hears something thud to the ground, but assumes it was either Kat or her backpack.

“Yeah!” the girl cheers from upstairs, causing Alex to chuckle and pull out some box mac and cheese from the cupboard. Kat had been a particularly picky eater lately, much to her parent’s annoyance, and had acquired a taste for a very limited amount of foods. Thankfully, she still liked mac and cheese, which was one of the few things both he and Jo could cook. Alex had gotten significantly better at cooking over the past year or so, but Jo was just as helpless as she was when she was in high school. Either way, both of them preferred takeout, but that wasn’t always an option when they had a two year old they had to take care of.

“I’m making mac and cheese, change out of your clothes, put your jammies on, clean up your room, and it should be done by the time you are.” he calls up the steps, taking Kat heard him when a groan is what he received in response. Kat was all Jo in the fact that she was incredibly sassy, and not to mention stubborn. She was fine with changing into her pajamas, but she hated cleaning up her room. The way she saw it, it was like one big painting, with all of her toys and books scattered around, but to her parents, it looked like a tornado had come and hit her bedroom. No matter how many times the two of them put everything away, a couple days later Kat’s room only seemed to have gotten messier. Maybe they could blame it on the terrible twos, except rather than having her act out behavior wise, it was a complete destruction to her room.

He pours the water into the pot, waiting for it to boil before adding the noodles. He pulls out his phone, skimming through emails and texts while the noodles cook, noticing a text from Jo that says that she just got off and was now heading home.

Once the noodles were done, he pours in the cheese packet, followed by the milk and butter. He felt his mouth water, hunger from the day finally catching up to him. He was grateful that the box was large and Kat was so young, so that meant he could steal some of her dinner, and thankfully still have enough left over for Jo if she wanted some too. The last thing he had to eat was a small snack before his surgery hours ago. When the food finally came together, he turns off the stove, picking out a pink plastic bowl from the cabinet for Kat and a regular glass one for him. It was kind of funny how much their cupboards changed once they had their daughter. Half of what they owned was plastic and princess themed, cheap little things bought from places like the ninety-nine cent store. They quickly realized that the printed patterned bowls and cups from dollar stores worked just as well as the ten dollar four pack they purchased. Plastic spoons littered the drawers rather than just metal, little stars and hearts on the end of them different than tiny, intricate designs that they had gotten used to, since after their honeymoon they realized that one of the gifts they were registered for was real, fancy silverware. He liked those plastic spoons much more though. After all, the smile Kat got on her face when she asked for a princess spoon or fork never failed to melt his heart.

Just as he placed Kat’s bowl on the island counter, the little girl comes bumbling down the stairs, dressed in her favorite Cinderella nightgown and stuffed monkey clutched in her hand. She practically runs to her stool, making grabby hands so Alex knew she needed to be picked up. He does so, placing her in the seat before she digs into her food, smiling as if it was the best mac and cheese she’s ever tasted. She shovels the food into her mouth, getting it all over her face, finishing it even quicker than Alex, all while talking about her day in daycare in only a way a parent would be able to understand.

He laughs to himself, wetting a paper towel and wiping off her face, which proves to be a struggle because Kat couldn’t stop giggling. “Go put on some TV, I’ll clean up in here and we’ll watch something ‘till Mama gets home.” he ruffles her hair, messing up her ponytail, and Kat wastes no time before scurrying off the chair and dashing into the living room, climbing up on the couch and turning on the television, an old episode rerun of Max and Ruby playing.

Alex finishes up in the kitchen, washing the bowls before putting them in the dishwater and starting it, since it was now a full load. He walks up the stairs to his and Jo’s room, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and a shirt before settling down on the couch, pulling his daughter close to him. Kat immediately snuggles into his side, taking a tiny fist and bawling it into his shirt, something she’d been doing since she was a baby. (Katrina would always be a baby in his eyes, it didn't matter how old she got.)

Around halfway through the episode, he feels the little hand unclench his shirt, fingers start to violently attack his neck in strokes. He lets out a laugh, looking towards Kat, “What are you doing silly girl?” he grins.

“Tickling you Daddy!” she cheers, continuing to try to get a laugh off of him.

He opens his mouth dramatically, eyes widening as he takes in her delighted giggles. “Oh, Kitty-Kat, you don’t know what you’ve just done,” he sighs. Kat stops, looking up at her dad, confused.

“You’ve unleashed,” he meets her eyes, breaking out into a wide smile, “the tickle monster!” he pulls her towards his tickling her feet, sides, and neck all at once, the little girl's loud laughs filling the air.

“No tickle monster daddy!” she squeals, squirming around, trying to stop the attack on her sides, laughs echoing off the empty house.

At that moment, Alex makes eye contact with a grinning Jo, who was just stepping through the front door. At the sound of her daughter’s laughs she felt wide awake, and she knew that by Alex’s mischievous look she could join in on the fun. She silently heads toward the couch, plopping down and starting her own fingers assault on the little one’s sides.

“Mommy help!” Kat squirms once she sees her mom, looking directly at her with eyes that were a mirror image of her own.

Jo pulls the girl into her arms, planting a big kiss on her head, leaving behind remnants of her cherry chapstick. “Mommy’ll save you KK,” she grins, only to bite her lip and pull away.

“But Mommy is a tickle monster too!” she flips Kat around with ease, bringing her little feet up to her face and blowing raspberries on them like she did when she was still a baby.

“No no Mommy no!” the girl giggles, thrashing around in a failed attempt to wiggle out of her grasp. Just to her luck, her dad decides to join in again, giggles turning into loud laughs that came from her little belly, a grin so wide neither one of them had ever seen it before.

“I’m gonna eat you!” Jo presses little kisses all up the girls, legs acting as if they were bites, making her laugh even more in the process. Jo gnaws at the skin, making pops with her lips and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Mmm,” she hums face scrunching up playfully, “delicious” she grins, the sound of her daughter giggles filling her ears until it was all she could hear.

Alex and Jo share a look. This was one of those moments, the ones where all they wanted to do was just pause time and stay in this one freeze-frame for the rest of their lives. It was moments like these they wanted Kat to stay this way forever, this perfect age and unconditional love she had for everything.

But for now, these pure, unfiltered moments of happiness were all they would need.

45 notes · View notes

heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Note

Can u do a ethan x mc proposal but it does not go as planned but finally he proposes and she accepts please😁😁

“I’m not letting you plan date night anymore, because you give the most vague answers,” Naomi yells, her voice coming through string from the en-suite.

“I gave you very adequate information,” Ethan argues.

“You and I have different interpretations then. You won’t tell me where we’re going, you barely gave me a dress code.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you look good in everything, no matter the occasion?”

Ethan nervously pats his jacket pocket for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. The small black ring box from Harry Winston is still there, and a bit of his anxiety ebbs away.

The ring has been burning a hole through his proverbial pocket from the moment it was purchased. There have been multiple occasions that Ethan has had to stop himself from blurting out, “Will you marry me?” to his unsuspecting girlfriend: while they’re eating dinner, on their way to work, in the middle of their dumb bickering.

So he’s been meticulously planning this proposal for 2 months now, and he has everything planned to a tee. It starts with dinner at one of Naomi’s favorite seafood restaurants downtown (he has an in with the owner and head chef), then they take a stroll through Boston Common and the Public Garden, admiring the ducks, smelling the roses before he eventually proposes. Ethan is a perfectionist and he wants the night to be perfect. He wants something they can look back on 10 years from now, 20 years from now with fondness, because Naomi deserves nothing less than that.

“I look amazing no matter the occasion,” Naomi quips. She steps out of the en-suite, and Ethan catches her slipping on a few bracelets. “But are we going to be by the water? Are these heels appropriate? Will I need a jacket?”

Ethan looks her up and down quickly, deciding that the faux leather skirt and sweater she’s wearing is a good enough outfit. “You look great, and the weather is perfect, you don’t need a jacket.”

“You better not just be saying that to rush me out the front door.”

That’s a good point, and one he hadn’t thought of yet. Ethan checks the time on his watch and inhales sharply. Their reservation is in 40 minutes, and it’s a Saturday night in Boston, so he expects congestion downtown. “Speaking of that, we need to go.”

“Alright, give me a few more minutes, Ramsey.”

“No, we need to go now, Naomi.”

Naomi knows her boyfriend is a stickler for order, but he’s been riding her ass all day over this date night. He’s never been this fussy before.

She saunters over to him, making a point to sway her hips as she does so. As soon as she’s within touching distance, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist as he pulls her close.

“We’re going to have a nice night tonight,” Naomi says. She presses her thumb to his forehead and massages away the worry lines. “You made me get all dolled up, and I flat ironed my hair, so I’m willing it into existence in hopes that my effort was not in vain.” Ethan doesn’t say anything but the corner of his mouth flits up, and Naomi counts it as a smile. “Now, can you stop being such a fuddy duddy?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at her immature vocabulary, but he nods nonetheless. “Only for you.”

“Good.” Naomi gives him a quick peck on the lips and pulls away before he can deepen it. “Now, let me put on my shoes and we can head out.”

~v~

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any reservations for Ethan Ramsey tonight.”

As soon as the words leave the host’s mouth, Ethan feels the blood in his veins pulsing with rage. There’s no way that’s possible, seeing as he made the reservation well over a month ago.

“Check again,” Ethan grits out. The host stammers a bit, but he listens to the command nonetheless.

Naomi bites the inside of her cheek as she watches the scene play out in front of her. Ethan’s using his attending voice, the voice reserved for combative patients and interns.

“Again, there’s no reservation for you,” the host stammers. “Maybe, you picked a different–”

The young guy doesn’t even get to finish that thought, because Ethan shoots him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

“I didn’t ask for you to come up with any ideas on your own,” Ethan says, his jaw clenching so tight, it's a miracle it doesn’t snap. “What I need you to do is simply call Frank and tell him that Ethan Ramsey wants to speak with him.”

Frank, the owner of the restaurant and a former patient of Ethan’s, should be able to sort this all out.

A few minutes later, Ethan spots Frank walking towards the front of the restaurant. The two men lock eyes and Frank stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Ethan. He quickly schools his features, plastering a wide smile on his face before he approaches.

“Dr. Ramsey, so lovely to see you!”

Ethan isn’t feeling as friendly. He doesn’t return the smile or the pleasantries, just taking a few confident strides over to Frank, ushering him to a quiet corner. “Frank, remember when I personally spoke to you over a month ago and I told you I planned to propose tonight? I told you I wanted a reservation, and you told me that you’d personally see to it that I have the best seat in the house?”

Frank swallows hard and averts his gaze. Looking into the eyes of a pissed off Ethan Ramsey is something like staring at Medusa head-on. “I did say that, yes,” he concedes.

“So flash forward to tonight, why am I being told that there’s no reservation?”

“I apologize, Doctor. There’s clearly been a breakdown of communication between myself and my staff, and I take full responsibility.”

“As you should!” Ethan snaps. His voice goes up an octave, and a few patrons of the restaurant turn in his direction, startled by the outburst.

Okay, so being 38 years old and throwing a tantrum in public isn’t his best look. Taking a deep breath, Ethan counts to 3 and tries to regain his composure. So there’s no reservation, but maybe there’s a way this night can be salvaged.

“Well, just give us an available table, any one will do,” Ethan says. Franks wrings his hands together and Ethan doesn’t like the sight of it one bit.

“Unfortunately, we are fully booked for the evening.” Ethan’s nostrils flare and there’s a slight ringing in his ears at the admission. “But I can squeeze you in next weekend, at any time you want! And for the inconvenience, it’ll be on the house for you and the lovely lady.”

“If you think I’m ever stepping foot in this place ever again, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Ethan walks off and takes Naomi’s hand. She looks up at him, her gaze soft. “What happened?”

“They somehow forgot I made a reservation for tonight,” Ethan grumbles. “And we can't get a table because it’s packed. I’m sorry.”

Naomi frowns and squeezes Ethan’s hand. “Well it’s not your fault, so you don’t have to apologize to me. It’s their loss. I’m sorry because it’s clear that you put a lot of thought into this date night.”

She doesn’t even know the half of it, Ethan thinks to himself.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Naomi adds, tugging on her boyfriend.

“Where are we going?”

“A place with a lot less pomp and circumstance.”

They end up in a hole in the wall lobster shack near the harbor, eating lobster rolls and sharing a bowl of clam chowder. They’re the most overdressed couple visiting the establishment, earning interesting stares from the other patrons.

“You and I are slightly overdressed,” Ethan teases, awkwardly tugging the collar of his button-down.

Naomi looks around and then at herself before laughing. “I think I’m going to keep a spare change of clothes in your car just for nights like this. But I think we look very good. It’s always nice to not have to wear scrubs.”

“Again, I’m sorry about the reservation at Frank’s not working out. I know it’s one of your favorite restaurants.”

“True, but I’ll survive. For now, I’m content just being here with you.” Ethan watches as Naomi opens a pack of saltine crackers, crushes them in the palm of her hand and pours them into the bowl of chowder. He pulls a face, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by the young resident.

“I can feel you judging me, Ramsey,” Naomi says.

“I’m just observing your messy eating habits, Valentine,” he shoots back. He briefly wonders if she’ll want to keep her maiden name. Will she stay Dr. Valentine? Dr. Ramsey? Dr. Valentine-Ramsey? It’s an outdated tradition, adopting a new last name upon marriage, but the thought of her becoming Naomi Ramsey makes him excited. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at her, but now Naomi is looking back at him. “Hello, earth to Ethan.”

It snaps him out of his daze and he blinks a few times in an attempt to regain his bearings. “Huh?”

“You keep staring at me. Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re fine. I guess I just got caught up in looking at you.”

Even though the lighting in the lobster shack is dim, Ethan can still see the apples of Naomi’s cheeks turning red.

While things at the restaurant didn’t turn out like he planned, this, just being here with Naomi as she devours the clam chowder that they were supposed to share, feels extremely right.

His hand tingles and the urge to whip out the ring box, right here, right now is strong. Just do it!

Don’t even think about it!

Stop being an idiot and ask her already!

The tiny voice in his head only grows louder the more seconds tick on. Impulsively, he reaches forward and grabs Naomi’s hand, stopping her from bringing her spoon to her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Naomi says back. “But can you not grab my hand while I’m trying to eat?”

Ethan drops her hand quickly, flushing as he does so. “I wanted to take you out tonight because I wanted to celebrate with you. This past year and a half has been–”

“Help! Help!”

The shrill cry cuts Ethan short and he head snaps around to find the source of the noise. He sees a woman frantically standing over a coughing man. The man is clutching his throat, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He’s choking.

Naomi and Ethan lock eyes with each other before they both abandon their table and rush forward to help, never able to turn off the fact that they’re doctors.

Ethan sighs, as the moment has been thoroughly ruined. So maybe proposing in the lobster shack won’t be happening.

~v~

So dinner was a bust two times over for the evening, but Ethan tries his hardest to stay optimistic. It’s a beautiful night, the weather is calm, and the Common is surprisingly sparse for a weekend night, so he and Naomi don’t have to deal with too many people.

“This has been an eventful night,” Ethan says.

“You mean you don’t get turned away from a 4-star restaurant and then perform the Heimlich on lobster shack patrons every day?”

“No, it’s usually one or the other. More of the life saving, less getting turned away at restaurants.”

“Well, at least I’ll have an interesting story to tell my friends at work.”

They stop at a bench, right in front of the giant weeping willow, Naomi’s favorite part of the park and sit down. She rests her head on his shoulder, sighing deeply.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already?”

“It was a long week at work,” Naomi says, feeling the need to defend herself. “My boss has been working me like crazy. Not to mention, it’s been a busy day.”

Ethan chuckles and kisses the top of her head, inhaling the scent of shampoo. “Your boss sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yes, but I let him get away with it because I love him.”

“He’s sounds like a lucky man.”

“He is.”

A family of ducks trots past their feet, earning a few coos and smiles from Naomi, though she otherwise leaves them alone to roam.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of them, neither one of them deeming it necessary to speak. Finally after all of the chaos the past few hours threw at them, it’s nice to just sit in quiet.

Is now finally a good time? Ethan thinks to himself. Surely nothing else can impede on the proposal, as the universe has screwed with him enough for one night.

The wind picks up slightly, a strong gusts makes a few tendrils of Naomi’s hair fly into her face, and she huddles closer to him, trying to steal his body heat. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, holding her tight against him.

“I’ve been driving myself crazy all day trying to think of a way to broach this with you,” Ethan starts, breaking the silence.

“Broach what?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. Mostly about us, especially with you being in your third year of residency, and how our future might look because of that.”

The hair on the back of her neck stands up, but Naomi doesn’t fully know why. Why does Ethan want to talk about their future? Why did he feel the need to take her out on the date in order to start the conversation?

The wind picks up again, and this time, Naomi hears thunder clap somewhere close by. “Is it supposed to rain tonight?”

“What? No.” Ethan checked the weather more times than he’d care to admit. It’s supposed to be a perfect evening in Boston.

“Are you sure?”

Naomi sounds skeptical, and Ethan huffs. “Rookie, trust me, if there’s one thing I’ve done today, it’s check weather reports.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ethan feels it. A single drop of moisture hits his cheek.

It doesn’t take long after that first raindrop for the others to come. In a quick burst, the rain falls, harsh and heavy.

Naomi shrieks and stands up, trying to look for shelter. Ethan isn’t as quick as she is, as he’s still stuck on the fact that it’s raining.

The pure absurdity of the day is so ridiculous, and a low chuckle forms low in his throat until he’s actually laughing. He laughs hard, the force of it actually making him clutch his side.

Ethan looks up at the sky, uncaring that the rain is pelting him relentlessly. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Ethan, what are you doing?” Naomi asks. “You’re going to get soaked!”

“My car is on the other side of the park, we’re going to get soaked regardless.”

“So you want to, what? Just sit in the rain?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, now isn’t the time for petulance,” Naomi says. She grabs Ethan’s hand and tries to tug him up, but he doesn’t budge.

“No. I have spent weeks trying to plan the perfect date for you, and it’s been a shitshow from start to finish. For some reason, the universe has decided that today isn’t my day, so instead of fighting it, I’m going to lean into it.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan has been beating himself up over this night not going the way he wanted it to, and she doesn’t understand why. Yes, Naomi likes fancy restaurants as much as the next girl, but she’s never been a high maintenance diva, nor has she ever demanded that Ethan be perfect.

“Why have you been putting so much pressure on tonight?” Naomi asks.

“For you!”

“I never asked you to! Now stop being such a baby and let’s go home!”

Ethan sighs and drudges himself up. His now soaking wet clothes make the task more difficult than it should be as now he feels 10 pounds heavier.

“I’m not being a baby,” Ethan argues.

“You’re acting like one.”

“You’re a blanket hog.”

The statement is so random, it makes Naomi do a double take. “What?”

“You’re a blanket hog,” Ethan repeats. “And you always put your freezing cold feet on mine when we’re in bed. You have a terrible singing voice, but I love listening to you when we’re at home. Your grooming products have completely taken over my bathroom, and it’s fine, because I love the smell of whatever fruity shower gel you use. You spend way too much time watching inaccurate medical dramas for a woman that graduated top of her class at Johns Hopkins. You steal my food, as evidenced by the fact that you completely hijacked the clam chowder we were sharing. You drive me insane, and it’s been that way from the moment we met, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because I love you.”

“I love the way your nose crinkles when you smile. I love the way you speak French when you’re mad at me. I love that you spoil Jenner. I love how passionate you are and how you’re willing to fight for people you care about, especially your patients. I love that you aren’t afraid to challenge me, whether it’s about work or something at home. I love that you have always believed in me, even when I was so stupid to believe in myself.”

Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small ring box before dropping down on one knee. Just seeing him do that is enough to earn a gasp of shock from Naomi.

“Ethan?” She can’t breathe. She can’t think. The only thing Naomi can hear is the sound of her beating heart. “What’s in the box?”

“What do you think is in the box?”

“I think it’s an engagement ring.” With trembling fingers, Ethan slowly opens the box, revealing the stunning 4 carat cushion cut diamond.

“You’d be correct.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

“Oh no. After all the trouble I went through, you have to let me get through my entire speech.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t see you coming at all. I wasn’t looking for love when you came into my life, and I was quite content being single. But little by little, you broke through and made yourself a permanent fixture in my life, and I’ve been all the better for it. You have all of me, mind, body, and soul, and usually the thought of relinquishing so much control terrifies me, but not with you. You are smart, and kind, and outspoken, and beautiful, and compassionate, and I don’t know what I did in this lifetime or the last one to deserve you, but I intend on spending the rest of my days being someone worthy of you. So, Naomi Marie Valentine, will you marry me?”

The tears are flowing freely, and Naomi can hardly see anymore, but she nods nonetheless. “Y-yes!”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Ethan doesn’t waste another second, plucking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto Naomi’s left ring finger. Once the ring is securely on, he stands up and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air slightly.

As soon as her feet are back on the ground and she’s steady again, Naomi grabs Ethan’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Neither of them seem to mind the fact that it’s still pouring, the cold rain seeping through their clothes.

“I love you,” Naomi says quickly, before pulling Ethan into another kiss.

“I love you too.”

“And though things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to, this proposal was perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Because of this, I got my cliche kiss in the rain.”

Ethan smiles. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “That’s true.”

“And think about it, I think this will be a much more interesting story to tell our future kids someday.”

“You make some excellent points, future Missus Ramsey.”

A thrill courses through her at the name. “Mhmm, I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because that’s what I’m going to be calling you for the rest of our lives.”

~v~

Tags: @aylamreads @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#my asks #playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices: open heart #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #my requests

169 notes · View notes

thevampirearcher-md · 3 years

Text

something med school did not cover - astray (#1) 🩺

A/N: hi, hello, I decided to write something very easygoing and lighthearted and just bask in cuteness. (And I apparently also decided to project very heavily whoop, don't tell anyone.) Also, this is heavily based on my own experience (I did say I was projecting) so keep that in mind about the structure of the medical system.

TW for medical procedures (even though I'll try not to make them graphic). Also, some inevitable medical jargon.

also on ao3

There’s the new sea of interns, Denali thinks watching their welcoming “ceremony” - a dramatic speech about the best and worst years of their lives, about patients’ lives and responsibility, all conveyed to them in the dean of medicine’s booming voice and theatrical inflection.

They’re all the same as they are every single year - wide-eyed and hopeful, ready to prove themselves more than worthless, yet scared shitless by the prospect of failing. There’s the surgical residents, hands itching to touch scalpels, even though most they’ll be doing for their first year is suture and hold retractors still until they’ll want to have their hands detached. There’s the cardiology residents, all regal and imposing, the fanciest of the bunch, even in scrubs, waiting to prove their wit to their attendings. There’s the emergency medicine residents, waiting to call the shots over machinery beeping, as they saw in the movies.

And then, there’s the bunch that Denali will have to deal with: paediatrics. They’re usually the ones wearing the cute scrubs - pinks, pastels and various prints. They’re the one with the tiny stethoscopes, who smile kindly at one another, who smile kindly at everyone, who steal themselves against panicked mommies and bawling babies.

“What do you make of this bunch?” Denali’s boss asks.

She scans the crowd again - fresh faces and optimistic smiles.

“I think Professor Visage will have a field day with them.”

“And leave the pieces for us to pick up,” another nurse pipes up from Denali’s other side on the balcony.

🩺

Being watched by some many eyes unnerved Rosé, being whisked around on a brief tour of the hospital dazed her and being assured that they’ll surely get lost left her reeling. She would not get lost - that was not a thing that could happen to Rosé McCorkell, MD, paediatrics intern, valedictorian of her class in med school. It couldn’t happen.

Only, she has to admit to herself that somewhere between the sixth floor - the paediatrics ward - and the basement, where imagining operates out of, she has, indeed, gotten lost. What’s worse is she has the sweetest little girl to take in for her X-ray appointment.

But she won’t admit it aloud.

The blonde child in the wheelchair she’s pushing coughs and she looks down at her.

“Are you doing ok, sweetheart?” she asks her small patient, the girl looking up to her with the brightest blue eyes she has ever seen. She nods, even though she looks a bit scared.

The hallway is lit with fluorescent lighting and filled with people - inpatients, outpatients waiting for their appointments, medical personnel, radiology technicians - and yet, no one seems to notice the unsure intern pushing a small child around in a wheelchair, lingering in the middle of the hallway. The girl is probably intimidated by the amount of people surrounding her, left with her heart in her throat because of the absence of her mother.

Rosé takes a deep breath, trying to look purposeful as she scans the various doorways before her for a sign that will let her know where to go. Her patient coughs again into her small fist. She’s here to confirm whether or not she has pneumonia and, in the process, also, confirm whether or not she was right, whether or not she’s made a good impression.

If only she could find the actual place where she’s supposed to go.

“It’s at the end of the hallway,” a voice startles Rosé. It could be anyone in this hallway, speaking to another anyone in this hallway, but she gets the feeling that it’s not just anyone and that the disembodied voice is speaking to her.

She turns to face one of the nurses she’s noticed on the paediatrics floor, a blonde with a kind smile and cute dimples in both cheeks.

“Yes, I’m talking to you,” she sighs, noticing Rosé’s confused look. “It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, now push… We don’t want Jessie here to miss her appointment, do we?” the nurse directs that last part to their patient, who very seriously shakes her head from side to side, making her soft blonde hair fly around her.

Rosé pushes without another word.

It’s fairly simple to find the door with the nurse’s guidance, to push the wheelchair in and allow the radiology nurse to position the child in front of the screen. She walks into the control room, followed by the nurse, who breaks into a smile at the sight of the people inside.

“Hi, ‘Monye,” she greets. “Hello, Alex,” she nods to the radiology tech, who’s pushing buttons on a keyboard, too busy to look up.

“Hi, doll,” the black woman’s face - Monye? - lights up at the sight of the blonde. “How’s everything going upstairs?” she asks.

“Oh, you know, it’s fresh meat day, so everything’s chaos,” the nurse rolls her eyes playfully. “Speaking of, this is…”

She trails off, turning to Rosé. They make eye contact for a brief instant, before the ginger steps forward, extending her arm out for the radiologist.

“Rosé McCorkell, intern,” she says with more confidence than should ever be awarded to someone who’s on their first day of work.

“Symone Avalon, MD, radiology,” the black woman introduces herself, smiling politely. “And that’s my new intern,” she waves in the direction of the corner, where a girl who seems even more terrified than Rosé leans against the wall. “Speaking of… Intern, what do we see here?” she asks, pointing to the newly generated image on the computer screen in front of them.

Rosé’s eyes scan across the picture of Jessie’s thorax, focusing on the right side of the picture, where the spaces between the ribs reveal a light gray colour, compared to the other side of the X-ray.

“Left lower lobe condensation,” Rosé murmurs to herself, as she’s done her whole way through med school. Symone’s eyes narrow her way in the cramped space.

“It is,” she agrees. “But it’s very slight, caught very early,” she explains, bidding her own intern forward. “Can you see it?” the girl nods quickly.

Rosé can swear that she doesn’t, but probably can’t bear the thought of making a bad impression on day one.

“Most likely lower left lobe pneumonia,” Dr Avalon informs Rosé and the nurse that has guided her here. “Congratulate Professor Visage on another astonishing diagnosis. And come visit me again soon, Denali,” she winks at the blonde, who’s already halfway out the door.

Rosé lingers for a brief second, torn between the pride she feels at proving herself to herself and the revolt she feels at not getting her credit. She follows Denali out into the hallway, taking a deep breath in.

“Doctor Rosie,” Jessie spreads her arms out wide as soon as she emerges back into the hallway. She smiles at the girl. She’s one of the sweetest children Rosé has ever met.

“There I am,” she winks and the child giggles, making her blonde curls bounce.

“Nurse Nali said she’s taking me back upstairs,” Jessie informs her.

“Oh, can I tag along?” Rosé bends down to come level with the child. Jessie nods. “Can I ask you to help me with something?” Rosé quirks her eyebrow at the child. “Can you carry this all the way upstairs? It’s very important,” she winks, handing the child her own chart.

Jessie grips it eagerly, her face becoming serious. “You can trust me, doctor Rosie,” she declares, clutching at the papers in her small hands. Rosé offers her a dazzling smile, which Denali can’t help but feel the effects of.

She wills herself not to react, not beyond what she would normally do - smile softly at the child in her care. She nods encouragingly at the intern, who rises from her crouch.

Rosé falls into a leisurely pace with Denali. They’re turning back the way they came, towards the metal elevators on the other side of the hospital that will take them back upstairs.

“CT scans are over there,” Denali points to a door with a huge yellow radiation side on the door, tucked into a mini hallway to their right. “And the MRI is behind that door with all the instructions,” she reveals as they pass another door on the other side of the hallway, bright red writing informing people of all the things they shouldn’t bring into the room with the giant magnet.

“All the radiologists are great, but doctor Avalon is among the top in her field state-wide,” Denali explains. “And she’s very nice so, if you’re ever unsure about something, I’d ask her.”

“Thank you,” Rosé murmurs. They’ve been shown which floor imaging was on and they made a brief stop here to drop off the radiology interns, who wouldn’t be leaving their base too much, but beyond that, it was all a mystery, a labyrinth of unknown sterile hallways.

“I know you’ve probably heard this before,” Denali throws her a look, “but we’ve all gotten lost in the beginning,” her eyes are kind, Rosé can see that. “You’ll be walking around as if you own the place in no time,” she smiles, showing off her dimples. “Won’t she, Jessie?”

The girl giggles as they come to stand in front of the elevator.

“Still got that chart, Jess?” Rosé asks, pushing the button. The girl nods again, making her hair bounce, showing her doctor the proof.

“Did you make the diagnosis?” Denali asks as they wait.

Rosé nods, unsure of whether or not she will be believed. She knows that she still has a lot to learn, but some things she knows. Some things she’s very confident in. She can see why it’s much easier for anyone to think that it had been Professor Visage, of course. It’s her first day of work - most people are terrified speechless for the first week. Denali’s eyes narrow at her and she hums as the elevator dings.

“Congrats, then,” she announces as soon as the doors have slid shut and she’s had Jessie push the button for their floor. “You’ve passed Professor Visage’s first test.”

Rosé’s eyes widen, sparkling. There’s so much hope in them, a look so open and vulnerable that Denali can’t help but reassure her wordlessly. They’re always like this - paeds interns are hopeful, sweet and caring, supportive. In one word, soft. It always feels bad to see them subjected to the challenges of real life medicine.

“Don’t get too excited, target’s on your back this year,” Denali shakes her head, but Rosé does something that most of the interns she’s seen before didn’t - she steels herself for the trials that are to come, her expression determined.

Her expression is confident, almost smug - a sight so rare among paediatrics interns that Denali is taken by surprise. Maybe, this year, someone will be able to take Professor Visage’s heat.

“Innit?” Jessie tugs at the corner of her scrub blouse to get her attention. The elevator is still making its steady ascent to their floor, but Denali’s gotten lost in thought, studying the new doctor in front of her.

“Doctor Rosie’s hair is the prettiest,” Jessie repeats, pointing at the mass of fiery curls with one of her small fingers. Denali’s eyes come back up to her.

“It really is,” she agrees as the doors open up.

The last thing she sees as she exits the elevator with her patient is the faint rosy blush creeping up Doctor McCorkell’s cheeks.

#rosenali #rosenali ff #hospital AU #denali foxx #omgheyrose #no i did not almost write a scene from the first episode of Gray's anatomy #not a thing

9 notes · View notes

ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

I just saw a pic of federico Cesari with scrubs and aaaahhhh I thought of you immediately!!! do you think you could write something about Martino in med school and Nico so proud of his boyfriend??

Martino is tired and aware he’s in a bad mood, hoping he’ll be able to handle it with himself without lashing out at Nico. It’s been a long couple of weeks of a lot of studying and way too much time spent in his residency added to not enough hours of sleep and very little free time to spend glued to Nico.

He feels every muscle in his body getting even sorer with every step he takes up the squeaking stairs, stopping at Nico’s door to search for the keys he threw randomly inside his bag this morning. He should have put it in a smaller pocket, but he was in a rush and there was no such thing as an extra second to be lost putting his keys somewhere specific to make his life easier when coming back home.

He’s about to complain and just knock on the door and ask to be let in when he finds it, rolling his eyes as he finally opens the door, feeling his eyes heavy and his body complain of another movement as he steps in, trying to be quiet in case Ni is already in bed.

The kitchen light is still on but Nico always leaves it on so Marti can find his way around the house. He kicks his sneakers off his feet and leaves his bag on top of them right next to the door, stretching his whole body while yawning. He didn’t even give himself time to change at the hospital before coming home, that’s how desperate he was for a warm shower and his bed, hugging Nico tight.

“Wow…” He opens his eyes to find Nico standing a few steps from him, in between his tiny kitchen and the living room.

“Hi…” Marti drops his arms down and instantly feels more relaxed just by seeing Nico and his soft and oversized clothes, his white fuzzy socks over his black sweatpants, and an extra-large white shirt exposing just one side of his collarbones.

“Thought you were in bed already.”

Nico doesn’t answer, just shakes his head with a soft smile sitting on his lips, staring at Marti’s body and he thinks he might invite Nico for his shower if he’s that interested so late at night.

“I’ve never seen you in scrubs.”

Oh.

Martino looks down at himself, hoping he doesn’t have any weird stains that he won’t be able to explain without grossing Nico out. While still scanning himself, he looks up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Do I look good?”

Nico sighs loudly while walking to Marti, putting his hands on the sides of his waist.

“You look amazing, Marti.”

He never thought about it, wearing doctor clothes and how real it makes what his future will look like but it feels really nice to hear Nico addressing it.

“I’m extremely tired and stinky if that helps make me less amazing.” He explains without thinking and Nico laughs softly, nuzzling against his cheek, kissing it right after, searching for one of Marti’s hand and intertwining their fingers, his hand so much warmer than Marti’s for once.

“You’re not stinky and you’re never looking less amazing to me. Did you eat anything?”

Martino can’t remember the last time he ate so that must mean something but he nods his head instead of telling the truth because it would make Nico over worry for no reason. He just forgot he had to eat and suddenly it was night already and his shift was done.

“What did you eat?” Marti rolls his eyes instead of answering, holding Nico’s face gently, feeling instant relief of his contracted muscle again when touching his boyfriend like Nico is the quickest serotonin.

“Don’t ask difficult questions. Can you order something for us while I take a quick shower?”

Nico nods his head and Martino smiles against his lips, wrapping his arms around Nico’s neck for a quick kiss before parting ways to go take his much needed shower.

He feels a little too attached to his scrubs all of a sudden so he waits until he’s inside the bathroom to take them off instead of walking out of them while going down the hall. He folds them and puts them on the bathroom counter even though he’ll put them to wash after his shower. Nico likes them so Marti is more appreciative of the blue, simple outfit now.

The shower water is too hot and not hot enough at the same time. It helps him relax and feel a little sleepy even but it also burns and irritates his pale skin at the same time. So Marti tries to make it quick while enjoying it, closing his eyes, and constantly swinging his body slowly from under and away from the water, loving how warm the tiny bathroom gets.

He’s in desperate need of letting his skin breathe for a little after a long day wearing layers of clothes, so he just puts on some clean underwear and drags himself back to the living room while carrying his dirty clothes, hoping their food won’t take too long to get there or he’ll fall asleep on the spot.

“I already put some clothes to wash, was just waiting for you to get home.” Nico holds his scrubs right away, still very interested in them and Martino smiles, throwing himself on the couch as he watches his handsome and caring boyfriend put his clothes to wash with his on their old washing machine under the kitchen counter, the only place they had to put it, no space for an actual laundry in Nico’s grandma’s old apartment.

“Can you put them on when they’re clean?”

Nico frowns, looking over his shoulder, closing the washing machine and standing up, walking to the couch and sitting next to Marti, putting his legs on Marti’s lap.

“Your scrubs?” Martino nods his head, smiling, “They’ll probably be too big for me.”

“That’s the point. I want to see it. I’m sure you’ll look so cute, Ni.”

Nico laughs and sits up closer, laying his head on Martino’s shoulder, holding his hand.

“Okay. I’ll try them on later.”

“Thank you.” Martino kisses the top of his head, looking at Nico’s pale hand on top of his, the long fingers, his hand a little bigger than Marti’s and skinnier too, “What are we going to eat, chef?”

“Some delicious sushi from your favorite restaurant.”

Martino moans, feeling his mouth water just thinking about it. He hopes Nico made their order extra big because Martino is starving.

“So tonight is the night you’ll propose?”

“Maybe so.”

Martino kisses his forehead, smiling when Nico looks up to meet his gaze, kissing his jaw, “I’ve been waiting for years now.”

“Patience, young Martino. It has to be perfect.”

Martino nods his head but he doesn’t agree. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Martino would say yes over sushis any night but he’s letting Nico do this his way. He’s not even sure if Nico is actually planning anything, it’s just fun to fantasize. And hope he is planning something in the near future.

#skam italia #martino rametta #niccolò fares #martino x niccolò #skamit #nicotino

34 notes · View notes

oliviaischillin1204 · 4 years

Text

a trip to the tickle doctor- A Fic By @Ticklish-Sides

[note: hey y’all! back with another fic from the incomparable @ticklish-sides, who was awesome enough to let me post it on my own blog! thanks, bro!]

Virgil’s eyes were closed, back pressed up against the wall of the closet he was hidden in. It was completely dark in there and there were so many different things thrown into the closet - much to Logan’s disgust - that Virgil was almost completely hidden. Even if someone would to look inside, it would take them looking *hard* to find Virgil slumped amongst several blankets.

Which was exactly what Virgil was going for. Since it was 12 pm on a Tuesday and every other Side in the Mindscape was in a Ler mood and Virgil was the only one in a Lee Mood. Which meant that Virgil knew from breakfast when everyone smirked at him at breakfast - and giving him pokes and squeezes on his sides the entire time too which was just mean - that going down with a fight wasn’t an option. He was going to be tickled and there was exactly nothing Virgil could do about it. But that didn’t think that Virgil was going to make it easy for them. Thus, why Virgil was currently curled up around all the blankets.

Virgil yawned, leaning against a stack of blankets with an anticipatory smile on his face. He couldn’t wait until the others found him and tickled him. Maybe they’d all tickle him or maybe one of them would find Virgil and tickle him senseless themself. Whichever one it was, Virgil couldn’t wait until it happened.

If only the others would hurry up and fucking *find* him already.

He had been curled up in this closet for nearly three hours now and even though Virgil knew that he had chosen a really sneaky place to hide, that didn’t mean that the others had to take so long to find him. It wasn’t like he was hiding in his bedroom or anything. He was in a closet. Right next to both Logan and Patton’s rooms. The resident Tickle Monster and Tickle Doctor. What the fuck were those two doing that was taking so long? They both were the ones that were poking him the most at breakfast and now, what, they didn’t come to find Virgil like they normally did.

Whatever, Virgil thought as he started to relax into the blankets. Maybe Remus and Roman would find him. Or maybe Janus. As long as he was tickled, Virgil thought as he drifted off to sleep, he didn’t care who it was who did it. He just hoped that someone found him soon.

_____________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Be careful with the patient, Nurse. He is suffering from quite a serious condition after all.”

“Oh, I know, Doctor! Don’t worry, I’m being careful! He’ll be snug as a bug in a rug when I’m finished here.”

Virgil grimaced as voices woke him up, not even opening his eyes. He felt so groggy and his neck as sore from falling asleep in such an awkward position. He hummed happily at the warm blanket wrapped around him, almost like he was in the middle of a very elaborate blanket burrito, and tilted his head to bury it into the soft pillow that his head was resting against.

Wait… Virgil hadn’t fallen asleep with a pillow.

He snapped his eyes open, doing his best to look around. He was wrapped up in a blanket burrito. A very elaborate one too that left his bare feet exposed and his arms stuck to his sides. He was lying in a bed that Virgil recognized from many different cuddles sessions with about ten different plushies surrounding him and with one tucked against his neck. It was very comfy which made the situation Virgil was in all the more suspicious and exciting.

He was going to be tickled.

“Oh, the patient’s awake!”

Virgil raised his head a little and saw Logan and Patton sitting at his feet. Patton grinned at him, teasingly waving at him with fake little monster claws strapped to his fingers. He was wearing a toy stethoscope around his neck and bouncing up and down on the bed excitedly. Patton winked at him, tucking the blankets around his feet firmly.

Logan, on the other hand, was smirking down at him and fingering a much more real stethoscope that was thrown around his neck. He had a clipboard in one hand that, from this angle, Virgil could see his name written onto the top of a piece of paper. Both of them looked very excited to be there, not that Virgil was feeling much differently.

“Good morning, Sir,” Logan said in a very professional tone, glancing down at the clipboard with an excited grin. “Ah, yes, Virgil. Thank you for waking so we could start your treatment.”

Virgil couldn’t stop the wobbly smile growing on his face even if he wanted to. He was going to be tickled, he was going to be tickled. “Treatment,” he asked, his feet scrunching up and as he subconsciously tried to cover them with each other. “What treatment? For what?”

Patton gave him a mock sympathetic look, shaking his head and tsking. “We found you in the closet, Sugar. And you know what we found all over your feet?”

Virgil wiggled his feet, shifting in his burrito to test how much leeway he had. And he didn’t have much. Like Patton had said earlier, he was as snug as a bug in a rug. He wasn’t getting out without Patton or Logan taking mercy on him and that wasn’t going to happen for a long time. “What’d you find?”

“Little bite marks,” Patton gasped, a smile tugging at his lips. He forced them back down into a mock sympathetic pout. “I’m sorry, Virgil. But you’ve been bitten by the Gigglebug and it won’t be long until you too are a Gigglebug. There isn’t a cure for this bite and all we can do right now is tend to your little Gigglebug ways.”

Virgil’s face was slowly blushing brighter and brighter each time Patton said… that word. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Virgil was weak to exactly one word and it was that one.“Don’t say that,” he giggled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Don’t call me that!”

Patton blinked at him innocently. “Call you what? What is it that you don’t want me to call you? You better tell me right now or I’ll keep calling you it.”

Giggles poured out of Virgil as he furiously shook his head. “I can’t!”

“Oh, guess I’ll never know what word I shouldn’t use, Gigglebug,” Patton hummed with a teasy smirk. “Oh, Doctor, it looks like the Gigglebug is starting to turn!”

Logan tsked, shaking his head. Unlike Patton, his face was totally and utterly blank. “How sad. All we can do is keep the cute, little Gigglebug comfortable while we treat him.” He paused. “Unless the patient has any protests about this treatment,” he said, giving Virgil a way to back out from this and leave untickled.

But Virgil’s lee mood was too high at this point, giggling happily with his feet squirming and bouncing as much as they could in his blanket burrito. He shook his head, turning his head to bury his face into the stuffy next to him.

“Then we will proceed,” Logan said, smiling as he held up his stethoscope so Virgil could see it. It had little bristles at the end like a hairbrush’s. “Nurse, hold the patient’s feet steady, will you?”

“I’ll certainly try,” Patton giggled as he tried to grab onto the wiggling feet. “He’s wiggling around a lot though!” He laughed as Virgil’s feet escaped him again, giving him a mock stern look. “Now, Mister Gigglebug, if you don’t let us treat you, we’ll have to use drastic measures.”

Virgil was rocking back and forth, giggling too hard to reply to Patton. He felt like he was already being tickled from the sheer anticipation of it all. “I cahahan’t,” he laughed, face blushing bright pink.

Logan’s lips tugged up into a smirk. “Very well then. We will have to use drastic measures then. Nurse?”

Patton grinned down at Virgil and reached up, moving the blankets around Virgil’s stomach to reveal a strategic opening. It did nothing to loosen the hold on Virgil but it gave the two lers a perfect opening to Virgil’s most ticklish spot.

Logan grinned down at Virgil, winking at him when Virgil nervously cracked an eye open, and moved to put his stethoscope on Virgil’s bare stomach. “Now, let’s begin.” Logan started to scrub the bristles of the stethoscope over Virgil’s bare stomach, making him burst into loud, squeaky laughter.

“Aww,” Patton cooed, finally managing to grab Virgil’s feet and get them into a headlock. “Listen to that! Gigglebug’s happy!”

“He certainly sounds like it,” Logan hummed, moving the stethoscope into slow circles and focusing in on one area that made Virgil snort. He paused, tilting his head. “Did you hear that nurse? I think there are some pigs in the hospital.” He grinned at Virgil’s bright blush.

Patton perked up. “Oh, some cute little piggies! Is our patient a cute little piggy just like he’s a cute little Gigglebug,” he asked in a coo, scribbling his fingers up Virgil’s arches and coaxing a squeal from him. He giggled when it was discovered that Virgil was squealing far too much to say anything. “Luckily, I know the perfect spot to coax out some snorty piggies!"

Virgil was confused for a second as the tickles paused, looking up at Logan in dismay. Was that it?

"You better hurry, Nurse,” Logan hummed, smirking a little. “The Gigglebug is getting upset at the lack of treatment.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Patton chirped as he reached back, hand hovering over Virgil’s wrapped up legs. Unlike the rest of his body, his legs were wrapped in a thin blanket. With the thin blanket and Virgil’s skinny jeans, there wasn’t much protection. “I got some treatment coming right up!” And with that, he started squeezing the pressure points right above both of Virgil’s knees.

Virgil’s eyes bulged open and he burst out into squeaky laughter, punctured with plenty of snorts.

“Ahh, there are the snorting piggies,” Logan hummed, returning to dragging his stethoscope over the spot on Virgil’s stomach that made him snort even more. “Thank you for finding them, Nurse.”

Patton grinned at them, his voice going to a coo. “Oh, of course! What do you think, Gigglebug? Aren’t the piggies cute?”

“Nahaha,” Virgil squealed, jerking his body back and forth. And from the way Logan’s lips twitched into a teasy grin, he should’ve known that would’ve led to even more teasing.

“Ahh, perhaps I was mistaken,” Logan hummed, dipping his finger into Virgil’s bellybutton and drawing out some squeals from the Anxious Side. “It seems that we have a worm here. Look, Nurse. See how wiggly he is?” Logan wormed his arms under the blankets and gently grasped Virgil’s sides, squeezing them one after the other, over and over again.

Patton gasped in delight as Virgil wiggled back and forth. “Oh, such a cute little wiggle worm! Wiggle little wormy,” he chanted, leaning forward to scribble his fingers around Virgil’s bellybutton.

As Virgil laughed, it hit him that he wasn’t going to get out of this for a long time. And, as Patton dipped a finger in his bellybutton and started scratching it gently and making Virgil cackle, Virgil knew that he was completely and totally okay with that.

#my posts #ticklish-sides #submission #sanders sides tickling

114 notes · View notes

recollins · 4 years

Text

Doctor’s Doctor (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request: Could you do a Reid x reader where he has a secret significant other who is a surgeon or doctor? Pairing: Spencer x Neutral Reader Length: 4,568 Contains: Fluff, angst if you squint Warnings: None A/N: I have exactly no knowledge of medical procedures or the actual inner workings of a hospital. All of my knowledge for this was based off of my Scrubs obsession from like 2005 and harassing my CNA sister. Do not hold me to accuracy on any of it. Masterlist

Spencer was a notorious worrier. There was no denying that, no matter how much he tried to do so. From the amount of germs gathered during his commute to and from work, to the reliability of your alarm system that had gone out on more than one occasion, he always had something nagging at the back of his conscience.

After almost six months with your boyfriend, you’d grown used to his constant concerns. Overall, they didn’t bother you, despite his predictable worry that it did. Honestly, you found it endearing. You’d never really had anyone take an interest on your wellbeing the way he did, and it was just another reason to love him.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, you knew it stemmed from what he saw on the cases he faced. He’d tell you about the better cases, the ones they’d closed with minimal loss or the ones that hadn’t ended as badly as it could’ve, but he never spoke about the ones that didn’t have a reasonably decent ending. The ones that put the heavy, unyielding sadness on his shoulders that took his smile for days. The ones that woke him screaming in the middle of the night, leaving his bright golden eyes dull and haunted until you finally managed to lull him back to sleep.

He wouldn’t speak of them, but you could put the pieces together with the measures he started to implement into your life. When you’d first started dating, your own safety wasn’t something you ever really took into consideration, most evident by your old garage door.

Your house was pretty old – which is how you’d gotten such a good deal on it – and as you weren’t much of a do-it-yourself kind of person, you’d never put much effort into updating or remodeling the more outdated parts of your home. Most notably, your garage door was still the original one installed in the late 60’s. It was so old it wasn’t even automated; heck, it didn’t even actually lock. Since you had to manually open and close it, if you were in a hurry you’d just leave it open when you went to work.

Spencer nearly had a heart attack when he’d first found out.

He’d then hired a company to install a brand new door – complete with securing locks and an entry keypad – and spent an entire weekend testing and re-testing, ensuring you were safe. Ensuring you wouldn’t meet the same fate you guessed others had met on his last case.

“Double-check that it shuts all the way, and doesn’t go back up before you leave,” he’d told you numerous times, demonstrating exactly how to do it over and over again. “Always watch when it shuts to make sure no one slips inside.”

Two months ago he’d replaced the GPS in your car, explaining the model you’d had was susceptible to being hacked. That one you hadn’t fully understood – so what if someone hacked it? All they’d get are some addresses you’d gone to.

“What are they going to do with that, Spence? Figure out I spend way too much time at Target?”

You’d asked it to joke with him, trying to get a smile on his face for the first time that day. Though he tried to turn away before it showed, you caught the ache of regret in his gaze before he dropped it to the ground.

“Yes,” was all he had managed to force out, but it was all you needed to hear to understand why he was so worried. Since then, you didn’t question him. Though he couldn’t take back what had happened to the victims his team couldn’t save, he could keep it from happening to you. Worrying over your safety helped alleviate some of the guilt and sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside him, you knew that much.

If it eased Spencer’s mind, it was worth the constant concern he showered you with. That’s what you repeated to yourself as, for the third time that week, you set off your own alarm trying to get into your house at just a little past two in the morning.

Cursing under your breath, you finally got the damn door open and rushed to the keypad on the wall, punching in the code Spencer had set up for you. Unsurprisingly, you got it wrong. He’d picked a completely random string of numbers, reminding you how easy it was to guess someone’s password or code because they made it personal.

There was only about fifteen seconds left before the system would alert the company, and that was the last thing you needed right now. Dropping everything in your arms to the floor, you jammed in the next six numbers you thought it was .

ERROR – WRONG CODE

“For the absolute love of fuck,” you snarled, going for another attempt. Your phone was ringing before you’d even hit the third number. With a tired sigh you propped the phone on your ear and muttered out a weary, “hello again.”

“Hi, this is Macy from ADT. We see your alarm was triggered and we were calling to ensure you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you assured, still jamming numbers. Your phone beeped, and a quick glance confirmed Spencer was trying to reach you. “My boyfriend set up my passcode so well that even I can’t crack it.”

Macy chuckled on the other end and quickly ran through the security questions (that thankfully you’d set up) and in a few minutes the alarm silenced. Spencer had already attempted calling another two times, and if you didn’t hurry he’d show up there himself. Not that you didn’t want to see him, but you both were in desperate need of sleep with how hectic your work had been lately.

“Would you like to change your passcode?” Macy offered, and though it was tempting, you knew Spencer would be upset.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks so much,” you rushed, as Spencer called for the fifth time. You quickly accepted the call and said instantly, “I’m fine, Spence. I’m perfectly fine.”

On the other end of the phone you heard him give a sigh of relief, and you smiled just a bit. His care always touched you and settled the irritation. You’d never been in a relationship with someone who cared about you as much as you did them, and despite the annoyance you really did love how much he cared.

“I’m sorry,” he told you instantly, his voice sounding rough with sleep. “I know this happens a lot –“

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” you promised, scooping up your discarded things from the floor and shuffling yourself into the kitchen, dumping them all onto the counter now. “I’m sorry I woke you up again.”

It was a real pain, having the company call your emergency contact every time this happened. But, just like all the other occasions, Spencer assured immediately, “don’t be. I’d rather be woken by a false alarm than by hearing you were hurt.”

The smile toying on your face couldn’t be helped, and you both sat in warm silence for a few moments. As much as you’d like to talk with your boyfriend – especially after the chaotic night at the hospital you’d just had – you knew how exhausted he had to be.

“You should be sleeping,” you murmured after a few more moments. When he didn’t respond at first, you thought he’d actually fallen asleep. And then, in the background, you heard the sound of someone crying. “Spencer?”

“It’s – that’s Henry,” he mumbled as you heard him get up. You could just picture him rubbing at his eyes as he yawned and explained, “Will and JJ wanted some time alone so I took him for the night. I… think he might be getting sick.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned back against the counter. Sure, you weren’t a profiler, but you knew your boyfriend, and you knew that tone of voice. That was his ‘knee-deep in the pit of worry’ voice. The only person he was more protective of than you was his godson.

“You were already awake when ADT called, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer immediately and that confirmed your suspicion. You let out a heavy sigh as you chastised, “Spencer. You just got back from a case and you’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours –”

“He had a fever when I put him to bed,” he defended as you heard him open the door.

“It’s common for children’s temperatures to rise a bit at night,” you reminded him. “And kids his age are prone to colds, which is nothing some sleep can’t help.”

“It wasn’t there this afternoon, though,” he persisted; you could hear the beep of the thermometer, and instead of arguing with him (which you’d learned was a fruitless edeaver not even an hour into your first date) you stayed quiet until you heard it beep again.

“What’s his temp?” you prompted; there was no reply. “Spencer.”

“99.9,” he mumbled. “But that’s higher than it was an hour ago –“

“Does he have any other symptoms?” Again, there was silence. If you could’ve reached through the phone to smack him you would’ve. “Spencer –“

“He didn’t eat as much at dinner,” he finally replied, and you heard him put a hand over the phone as he asked softly, “Henry, does anything hurt?”

There was a tearfully mumbled no and you stifled a sigh, dropping your head back to stare at the ceiling. This man was gonna worry himself to death before he even reached forty. “Okay, Spence. Give him some Tylenol and get him to drink some water. If there are no other symptoms present, he probably just has a cold. It could even be allergies, and he’s just uncomfortable.”

He was quiet at first; you heard him walking down the hall, and then the snap of a light. A moment later he was rifling through what you assumed to be a medicine cabinet as he finally said meekly, “I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting –“

“Hey. It’s fine. You’re just concerned,” you reminded him gently. “But between the almost back-to-back cases you’ve been working and now me setting off my alarm every other night, you’re wearing yourself out.”

Spencer was quiet again, and you knew him well enough to know he was trying to think of a way to refute what you’d just said. Thankfully though, whether it was the exhaustion or a hint of rationality surfacing, he finally gave a sigh and just mumbled, “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you teased, playful smile taking over. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Finally, you got a laugh out of your boyfriend. He chuckled into the phone, and you easily pictured the bright, toothy grin he was flashing as he huffed, “I know you heard me.”

“Huh, did I? You’ll have to remind me what I heard…”

“I’m not repeating it,” he giggled. You heard Henry’s door opening again and he said a little softer, “I’ve kept you up long enough. I’ll get Henry to sleep and I’ll lay down. I promise.”

“Good. I want you to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep, alright? Doctor’s orders.”

Spencer gave another soft chuckle as he assured, “I’ll give it my best shot, given Henry stays asleep.”

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go shower and lay down,” you told him, making the executive decision to leave all your crap on the kitchen counter until after you’d slept. “I’ll text you when I’m up. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer murmured, the smile clear in his voice. It was still a relatively new thing to say, and you both got a little giddy every time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“’Night, Spence.”

Smiling to yourself as you finally hung up, you checked the time and groaned. It was just a few minutes shy of 3am now, and you had to be up in four hours for your next shift. The hospital was ridiculously understaffed; you’d been working overtime just to make sure there was coverage.

Honestly, it was a miracle you’d even gotten to leave tonight. You were pretty sure that if one of the nurses had caught you before you reached the door, you’d still be at work. As much as you wanted to pass out right away, you forced yourself to shower. Finally, ten minutes later you were collapsing into your bed, falling asleep almost the second your head hit the pillow.

Your phone was ringing what felt like only minutes later. Groaning, terrified it was the hospital calling you back in already, you blindly pulled your phone off the charger and dropped it onto the mattress, laying your head on top of it, too tired to hold it up.

“This is Dr. Y/L/N –“

“Y/N,” Spencer’s panicked voice interrupted. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but Henry’s gotten worse.”

It took every shred of self-restraint to hold back the groan of pure frustration. Wearily, you peeled an eye open and peeked at the clock on your nightstand. 3:58am stared back at you. “Spencer it hasn’t even been an hour –“

“He threw up twice, and he says his stomach really hurts,” he rushed, his voice pinched and at least two octaves higher than normal. “His fever’s at 100.8, it’s going up quickly –“

“Hey, okay, okay,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t doze off, the symptoms starting to float around in your groggy head. Escalating fever, nausea, vomiting, stomach pain… those weren’t a good combination. “Alright. Spence, take a breath.”

“Y/N, I’m worried about –“

“I know. But I need you to calm yourself down,” you insisted. Spencer huffed at you – and you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness – but you heard him take in a deep breath and blow it out. “Alright. One more.”

He did as he was told, and when he started speaking again his voice was at least a little less panicked. “I – should I take him to the ER? He’s gotten a lot worse and he’s crying, but I don’t want to worry Will and JJ if I’m just overreacting –“

This time, you were worried he wasn’t, and it’d be quicker to diagnose him instead of having them hole up in the ER. You were already slipping on your sneakers and tugging a sweater out of your closet to throw on over your pajama top. The sweats you had would have to do; you didn’t have the energy to put real pants on.

“Text me their address,” you cut in as you jogged down the steps, swinging through the kitchen to snag your pile of necessities from the counter. At least the laziness paid off; you didn’t have to go hunting for your crap.

You heard the ping of a text as you got into the car, and Spencer’s voice was back a moment later. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry. I know you’re so tired –“

“Spence, really. It’s okay,” you said gently, glancing at the address and typing it in. “My GPS says I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

“Drive safe,” he told you instantly, and then before hanging up he reminded you, “be sure your garage door shuts all the way.”

The little bit of irritation that had risen up was put out instantly, smile tugging your lips up as you watched the door shut all the way. Despite the exhaustion, you knew this was how Spencer expressed his love. Making sure he and Henry were alright was the least you could do to show him you loved him just as much.

Spencer had the door open before you even finished knocking, pulling you into a hug you both really needed. He clung to you, face burying into your neck for several moments before he mumbled,

“I really am sorry, Y/N. You’re so tired and if this is nothing –“

You pulled back and wordlessly cupped his face, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He relaxed under your touch almost instantly, his hand flitting up to wrap around your wrists, keeping your hold on him.

You broke from the kiss just enough to murmur, “Spencer, I don’t know how else to say it, but I’m being completely honest when I say it’s okay. You’re not overreacting. Henry’s worsened and it’s a legitimate cause for concern. You have every right to worry.”

Spencer nodded, his nose brushing yours, thankfully not picking up on the undertones of genuine concern in your voice. You didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily, but you’d seen these symptoms so frequently you were almost certain this was well-deserving of his panic.

You didn’t pull out of Spencer’s hold; you never did. It was an unspoken rule that it was never you that cut off contact. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, but when he was, you never wanted to be the one to push him away or shut him down when he needed you. When he finally did release your wrists to step back, you swept your thumbs over his cheekbones, comforting him before motioning for him to lead the way.

Henry was curled up on the corner of a dark blue couch, clinging to a stuffed Spider-Man toy as he whimpered into the cushion. Kneeling in front of him, you gave a warm smile as you reached out and swept his hair back, feeling his forehead.

Way too warm, you noted; before you could even ask, Spencer was holding out the thermometer. He sat beside Henry at his legs, and despite the pain he was clearly in, Henry instantly shuffled himself around to lay his head on Spencer’s lap, one of his hands coming to tangle into his pajama pants.

Your entire heart melted instantly, seeing the two of them together. You’d never seen Spencer with kids, but it had instantly become one of the top five most beautiful views in the world.

“This is my friend, Dr. Y/N,” he introduced, his large hand settling on Henry’s side, rubbing soothingly. “We need to take your temperature again, okay?”

Henry sniffled and nodded, opening his mouth. As you started the thermometer, you shifted a little closer and said, “Hi Henry. I hear your tummy hurts.”

He gave a small nod, and when the thermometer beeped he reached up and held it out to you as he whimpered, “it hurts real bad.”

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” you apologized as you took a quick look at his temperature. 101.2. That wasn’t good. “Henry, can I take a look at your tummy really quick?”

With another small nod, you and Spencer helped him roll onto his back. Even just that small movement had more tears flowing, his little face screwed up as he turned and buried it against Spencer’s thigh.

There was no doubt in your mind now, but just to be thorough, you pressed lightly against the right side of his stomach. He let out a yelp of pain, and that was all you needed. Spencer caught the look on your face as you got to your feet.

“Spence, can you set up Henry’s car seat in my car?” you asked, keeping your voice calm so you didn’t panic the tearful little boy staring up at you with wide, worried eyes. Picking up on your demeanor, Spencer said gently,

“Of course. Henry, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay Uncle Spencer,” he mumbled, allowing himself to be settled back on the couch. The moment he grabbed the car seat, Spencer all but sprinted outside. You tugged out your phone, moving to stand in the hall while keeping an eye on Henry as you dialed the nurse on call.

“Hey, Ashley, it’s Dr. Y/L/N. I know I’m not scheduled until seven, but there’s an emergency and I’ll be bringing in a patient,” you explained hastily. With the hospital so understaffed, even with priority it might take a while for Henry to be taken care of. You’d be his surgeon today.

“Is everything alright?” she asked hastily; you heard her already assembling the paperwork you needed.

“I’ll need an operating room and a team ready to perform an appendectomy.”

The sun was just coming through the window of the post-op room, illuminating Henry’s sleeping figure in a soft orange glow. You’d stopped in on your way to the waiting room, just to make sure he was okay.

Ashley held his chart out to you and you gave her a smile of thanks as she said, “I know it’s usually me talking to the family, but since this is personal I figured you’d want to do it. I’ll stay here with him for now, he should be up pretty soon.”

“You’re the best,” you said, giving her arm a thankful squeeze before you made your way to find Spencer and a couple of very concerned parents.

This wasn’t how you and Spencer had planned to introduce you to his team; he’d wanted you to come to one of their dinner parties in a few weeks to meet everyone at once. Though it was sudden and unexpected, you’d be lying to say you weren’t eager to meet JJ and Will. She was his best friend and after all you’d heard about both of them you were more than ready to make introductions.

The first waiting room only held a sleeping couple and a frantic woman pacing around the chairs. As you got closer to the second room, though, several different voices could be heard. When you stepped into the room, though, you hadn’t been prepared to see every member of Spencer’s team gathered inside.

He’d shown you dozens of pictures, and it wasn’t hard to match the faces to names. Penelope had to be the extremely colorful woman in a seat against the far wall, leaning on a painfully attractive man you instantly recognized as Morgan. Two older gentleman – Hotch on the left and Rossi on the right – were standing aside, talking casually with one another, their eyes on the panicked couple across from them.

Will and JJ were on the edge of their seats, hands clasped together as they talked quietly with a women who was unmistakably Emily. She was the first to spot you, brows raising in question. You cleared your throat and asked,

“Henry LaMontagne?”

All seven heads snapped to you instantly, catching you off-guard. You met each stare briefly before an eighth head popped out from behind Hotch and Rossi. Spencer looked exhausted, but his soft brown eyes lit up seeing you.

“Y/N, how is he?” he asked, hurrying out of his chair and coming around to you. JJ and Will got up as well, and though they were focused on you, you didn’t miss the way the rest of the team was looking between you and your boyfriend.

“He’s just fine,” you assured, and everyone visibly relaxed. “Thanks to Spencer, we got him here before his appendix burst and the surgery went through without a hitch. We’ll have to keep him overnight – it’s just normal procedure after an emergency surgery – but he’ll be good to go home tomorrow morning.”

Spencer moved unexpectedly, his arms instantly encircling you and pulling you into a tight hug. For a quiet, blissful moment the chaos of the morning came to a halt. Instead of panic and exhaustion and worry, it was just the two of you, caught up in your own world, both relaxing into one another after the last few grueling hours.

“Thank you so much for all you did,” he murmured against your neck, pressing a swift kiss against it as he reluctantly pulled back, smiling up at you with nothing short of love in his eyes. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

You went to answer when a throat cleared from behind Spencer. Your boyfriend’s eyes slowly widened in realization, as if he’d just remembered the other people around you two. When he turned and stepped aside, you saw the rest of his team watching you both with grins.

Spencer’s ears and cheeks were flushed a dark pink, and you knew your own face wasn’t any different. Morgan was the first to move, stepping up and clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder as he looked between the two of you.

“Well, well, well. Look’s like the doctor’s got himself a doctor.”

Spencer, bless his adorable heart, was still at a loss for words. Whether it was the lack of sleep, the adrenaline of the last few hours finally wearing off, or the buzz of what you guessed was probably way too much caffeine (because you knew he’d been abusing the free coffee down the hall), you really couldn’t say. All he managed was a quick nod, and then a feeble attempt of,

“This – um, Y/N is my doctor – no, wait. So, we’ve been dating, um –“

With a laugh, you reached out and squeezed Spencer’s hand and then held your other out to Morgan. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.” After a brief moment of deliberation, you grinned and added, “I’m the doctor’s doctor.”

The others laughed as you shook their hands briefly before turning to Will and JJ.

“I’m sure Henry’s awake by now. If you’d like, we can go check on him and I’ll have my nurse bring your entourage to meet us in his room.”

“That’d be fantastic,” JJ sighed, looping you into a hug of your own as Will rubbed her back soothingly, smiling in thanks at you. “Really, we’re so glad you dropped everything to help Henry.”

Giving her a hug of reassurance, you motioned for her and Will to start down the hall. Before you got more than a step and a half, Spencer’s hand had caught your own. When you turned to him, you were surprised to see the characteristic frown of worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quickly, looking between his soft hazel eyes, concern of your own starting to spark.

“I just – is this okay? This was all so sudden, you just got thrown into the middle of everything, I didn’t give you any warning to meet everyone and –“

“And you know what?” you cut in gently, and he tipped his head a hint in question. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“Really?” he asked softly, a small smile peeking through his frown. “I just… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or… or scare you off.”

“You don’t need to worry, Spence. Really.” He raised his brows and gave a pointed glance around us, and I let out a laugh. “Okay, okay. Garage doors and sick kids are one thing, but me leaving you? Never. You’re sort of stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, and to your surprise, he leaned down and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your lips before stepping back. “For the record, though, I now have proof that I don’t always worry too much.”

Well, shit. He had a point. Rolling your eyes, you made down the hall after JJ and Will, shaking your head at Spencer as he started down the hall for the coffee machine. Alright, if his constant anxieties didn’t send him to an early grave, the ungodly amount of caffeine he consumed certainly would.

You’d save that to worry about for another day.

#criminal minds #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer reid #reid #fluff #rea writes #requests

164 notes · View notes

lys-lilac · 3 years

Text

The Realization of Importance

Part (3/3)

Let’s end it.

A/N: This is to say that all the characters and the main story line belong to Voltage Inc. Only the fictional story is a work of mine, as well the fictional characters, Hana, Touma and Akari. Also this story is based on dream event, because I had this as a dream many days ago. It might be a little different from the usual genre, a little more angsty, so this little girl wants to know your honest opinions about the work. Be honest and do let me know what you think. But, if it feels a little bit dreamy or weird, you can discontinue reading from here.

Part 1 II Part 2

Part 3/3

Hana: ?!

Standing behind me was none other the man I loved the most, Kasumi. But, why is he here? His face is looking as cool as a cucumber. And, is he smiling? I hurriedly get up from my seat.

Hana: Kas- Err, I mean Chief Kasumi! What are you doing here?

Kasumi: Listening to your conversation.

Hana: ...I- Well, I am not MC.

Turning my head where I put the hairpin to his side, I show him my ‘recognition symbol’ or whatever.

Hana: I am Hana, the new resident.

Kasumi: I know that.

Hana: ?

Why? Just as I am trying to focus on my work, why does he drop such lines? What work has he with me? I rack my brains for a possibility.

Hana: Oh, are you here to talk with Touma?

Tucking on my white coat and holding me like a scared child, Touma slowly ducks his head to the side. I knew that Kasumi loved children, like he played pictionary with Sora that time. So I decide to give it a try.

Hana: Touma, he is the head of EICU, Dr. Kasumi. You can talk to him. He really is good person. Oh yeah, we might play pictionary together!

Kasumi: ...

Probably not expecting the response, Kasumi’s eyes go wide. Did I say something wrong? Wait, don’t say me... This event has already happened here already. If that’s the case, I might be in knee deep water right now.

Hana: I thought that Touma might like to draw, since he is good at gardening and sightseeing, so I asked. That’s it.

Kasumi: Touma, I know you can do it. And as she said, we can play pictionary anytime you want. But, I have a request to make.

Touma: What is it?

Kasumi: Can I accompany you to the visit to your garden?

Hana: What?!

Okay. I seriously need to check my mental health now. Am I really in my senses? What in the world did I hear just now?

Hana: But, we shouldn’t trouble you. After all, your schedules might be packed. And what about Dr. MC?

Kasumi: She has a lot of study to do. Besides, I want to see how this resident handles the case.

So it was just as a mentor... I see. Although I would have felt pangs in my heart at this time, I feel relieved, although I don’t know why.

Touma: I would be happy to!

After finishing our drinks, I drop Touma to his bed, and go towards the CSD (Cardiovascular Surgery Department). But, Dr. Kasumi is following me. I was sure that was not the case at first, as both CSD and EICU were in the same direction. But, instead of turning to the opposite side in the fork, he turns in my direction. WHAT IS GOING ON?! Oh god, stop, my heart...

Hana: Dr. Kasumi, I need to ask something. Do you have any work at the CSD? I can help you out with the menial tasks, if you ask.

Kasumi: ...

The silent intimidation! His dark prince cape never slides from him!

Kasumi: I need you to meet me in the outside in the evening. I have something to discuss with you.

...aand, there he goes, not listening to me. And, why the heck is he calling me to join him in the evening? The more I try to clear out my mind, the more it becomes tangled with his words. Guess I have no choice left. Maybe it’s something related to Touma?

Hana: ...Alright.

[Evening: Seimei Medical University Porch]

As I am sitting on the bench after completing the post OP rounds of some patients, a chilled can of coffee hits my cheek.

Kasumi: Here.

Holding two cans of coffee in his hands, he gives me one, and takes a seat beside me. Surprisingly, it’s my favorite flavor, mocha.

Hana: So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?

Kasumi: ...

Gazing at the children playing at a distance, he remains silent.

Hana: Dr. Kasumi, I am not a psychic that I can read your mind by telepathy. You have got to say something.

This time also, the response is nothing. Giving up, I look up at the sky, which is painted with a hue of orange and yellow. Gradually, the Sun sets, leaving a pinkish violet band spread in the horizon.

Hana: Look, Dr. Kasumi, the Belt of Venus! Now, you have to say the reas-

What leaves my mouth leaves me surprised. Clasping my mouth with my hand in order to shut it, I slowly move my fingers around the coffee can.

Kasumi: MC.

Hana: Dr. MC? What happened to her? Is she busy today?

Kasumi: You are MC, right? And that name ‘Hana’ is just a false one. Am I wrong?

Hana: You are getting it all wrong, Dr. Kasumi. Look at this hairpin, I am the new resident, not MC...

Kasumi: And what if I say that the hairpin you are wearing is the one you bought when you went to the zoo with me?

I can’t even dare to say a word. What exactly am I supposed to say? That “I am MC, I don’t know what’s going on here” ? I try to push another excuse.

Hana: This hairpin is common here! I think that Dr. MC may also have one at her home. Look, Dr. Kasumi, you might need some rest as you may be overexerting yourself. I will go and inform Dr. Kyogoku, okay?

As I get up from the bench, a sudden grab of my arm makes me stop.

Hana: ?

Kasumi: At least let me justify why I think of you as the MC.

Why those pure eyes? Was his pull not enough? Those eyes are my weakness, and I can’t resist his words.

Hana: Ok, I will listen to you.

Kasumi: Until yesterday, I was unsure myself that which one of you was my MC. The way you said that you are a new resident, all of us had no choice but to believe it as the truth. But when I saw you talking with Touma, that made me clear of your identity. Because my MC is a little childish, likes to get acquainted with patients, and...

Hana: and?

Kasumi: No wonder where you are, I can always recognize you.

His fingers intertwine with mine, and as I am about to reply, Kyogoku comes from the building.

Kyogoku: Kasumi, we have got hold of her true identity.

Without any delay and without loosening his hand, he drags me with him, and we all leave for the EICU. My mind which had turned to mess after all the things he said, was not working at all, so I stay silent to know the truth.

[Evening: Seimei University EICU]

There was she, Dr. MC. All the other doctors were also there. But, why were people from Metro Police Department standing there? And that to, handcuffing her? What the heck was going on while I was outside? Just as I was thinking, a police speaks up.

Police 1: Finally, this miscreant got caught.

Police 2: We are sorry for all the trouble she caused. We will make sure she gets the ‘reward’ for what she had done.

Police 3: Thank you for the help doctors! No wonder you all are jewels! Now, give us the permission to leave.

What the WHAT?! No one was in shock as me. She, A MISCREANT? So, inso and dreaming were not the reason?

Hosho: I am glad to see our MC back!

Takado: Oh, and how foolish of us to think that the silent impostor was this idiot. Never in life.

Ekuni: She didn’t even falter when we threw jokes on her.

Matsunaga: And here I thought, we are going to get two talented doctors... Although I am happy that you are the only precious girl of the EICU.

Kyogoku: Butthead, now you know who you are right?

{A/N: Now, Hana is the actual MC, so no need to use the fake name, otherwise who knows what will Kasumi think of me... ^^;)

MC: God, can anyone please explain what is going on... I might just pass out from the overdose of information.

Kyogoku: Apparently, she was a die-hard fan of Kasumi, or whatever it may be, and was super jealous of you. So she arranged all of this. Went through a plastic surgery to look exactly like you, changed your documents by adding a false name, just to take your place.

MC: Then, how you all figured it out?

Hosho: It was Kasumi who first told us that something was weird.

Takado: That how the office, which is a place of damn banters, was as silent as the sea. Although it was peaceful, it felt wrong.

Ekuni: She didn’t know her own schedule of scrub ins, and didn’t lash us out.

Matsunaga: And most importantly, I was not satisfied her response when I asked her to join me during breaks.

Kasumi: We all are aware of your behavior and your nature, so it was not long till we figured it out.

Kasumi: MC?

Ha... haha, my life. I will not hesitate to say that it is more intense than what happens in mangas. One can do this much only for jealousy?

MC: Thank god, thank god you all remember me. Here I thought I was in a parallel world and no one recognised me.

The doctors could sometimes lead me to release smoke from my ears out of fury, but nonetheless, they cared for me, and that’s what of value to me the most.

[Some days later: Touma’s garden]

{A/N: Again, a random picture}

Touma’s surgery is a success. On the day of the surgery, Kasumi volunteered to accompany me in it, as his schedule was open for the morning. The good thing is that he can still walk and talk, although now in wheelchair for some days of recovery. Me and Kasumi, to fulfill our promise to Touma, were leaded to Touma’s garden on the day we paid a home visit to him.

Can I say that the place is paradise? Tulips, lilies, hydrangeas, pansies, daffodils and all the varieties are lined in rows. Adjoining to it is the fruit garden, and beside it is the vegetable one. Huh, did I even know how to plant a sapling when I was of his age? Answer: no.

As I was appreciating the beauty sitting on the cool grass, a small flower is tucked into my hair. It is a Syringa Vulgaris. In other words, a small lilac.

Touma: This looks pretty on you.

MC: Oh, thank you Touma.

But, just after that, a flower crown is placed on my head.

Kasumi: And I think this looks even prettier.

MC: ...

My cheeks flare up crimson. Aww, just how cute are these two, adoring me like that! I can just float in the sky out of happiness,

MC: Thank you.

MC: Oh, but I wanted to ask something.

Kasumi: Sure.

MC: If you realized that I was the original piece, then why didn’t you recognize me in the office?

Kasumi: That’s because the other you submitted your reports just before you came. Did you notice that when you were about to submit the papers in your hand, it was not the original but only blank papers?

MC: ...No! Now that I think about it, I was so heartbroken at that time, that I didn’t even glance at it. And probably, she might have done it when I was in post OP rounds, and my documents were all laying on the table. Ah, the headache I felt there might be due to her making me unconscious using chloroform, because I found myself in the closet. God! And here I was thinking that I fainted due to overwork!! That chick, grrr...

Kasumi: Pfft, as expected.

MC: Don’t laugh at me! Well, how did you find the clue then? Even I was confused of my own identity. Didn’t your thoughts waver?

Kasumi: I got the first hint by the hairpin you had. I was pretty sure that it was the same one that you bought when we went to the zoo, and that you always kept it in your bag. But when I asked the other you about this, she just made excuses that she had left it at home. Further, you mentioned about Sora and also exclaimed when the Belt of Venus appeared, so my confirmation was strengthened.

MC: A prodigy you are, aren’t you?

Kasumi: No.

MC: Huh?

Kasumi: No matter which different identity you own, or wherever you may be, I can always recognize you, because you are the most important person to me in my life.

Seeing my blank face, he chuckles and a soft touch lands on my lips, like a feather fluttering on my skin.

MC: The same goes for me too. I can always recognize you anywhere, because you are the one I love the most.

As I see the dandelions dancing in the wind, the flowers, fruits and vegetables bathed with sunlight, and the smile of Kasumi, which I yearn the most, I realize something. That I am important to him and so is Kasumi to me. No matter whatever may come, I will always stay by his side, and support him with all my heart.

END.

{Author’s trivia: I actually woke up just after the scene where Kasumi realizes that she is his MC. So, I just added the after plot, to complete it.}

That’s it! I am telling you, I was myself feeling butterflies when writing the end part. So I am sure, the story will appeal you just like it appealed to me. Pure nature of Kasumi, dipped in honey felt words. But gahh, it felt so dramatic, the police and all... Let me know what you think. If any requests, feel free to drop it in the suggestion bowl. Have a good day ahead, and give your best everyday, just like our dark prince!

~Lys

#romance md #romance md: always on call #rmd #toshiki kasumi #kasumi toshiki #sentaro kyogoku #munechika takado #tetsuya hosho #kaede ekuni #eiichi matsunaga #voltage inc #love 365 #100恋+#100シーンの恋+#hana #touma #akari #fictional work #lys's writings

11 notes · View notes

lucas-koh · 4 years

Text

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC V

Parts 1-4 are linked in my bio.

Doesn’t exactly follow canon, but elements of canon. FWB.

Song: Sudden Desire - Hayley Williams

Rating: M; implied sex, sexual language, swearing, mentions of medical procedures

Word Count: 3305

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela

Chapter Five: The Tale and The Missed Moment

Bryce and Suki’s Fuck Buddy Agreement:

1. No work-place hookups.

2. No staying the night.

3. Always use the signal. 👃

4. No drunk texting a sober person.

5. No visible marks.

6. Proof of sexual health.

7. Keep it casual.

—-

Santa Fe: this is Suki hello

Santa Fe: i’ve sent the list

Scalpel Jockey: 👃

Santa Fe: that’s it, 👃

Scalpel Jockey: 👄

Scalpel Jockey: shit I meant 👃

Scalpel Jockey: big thumbs oops!

Seen on 15th October

—-

The following weeks felt like months. Work was long, it was stressful, and it was exhausting. Sometimes all Suki wanted to do was curl up into a ball in bed and sleep for as long as possible, letting the stress of working long hours in hospital compress out of her. Sometimes, she wanted to bundle up on the sofa and watch movies with her roommates. But sometimes, Suki wanted to release her tension in other ways. Ways that involved Bryce Lahela.

They left before the morning, were careful with their grip and kisses so as to not leave any marks, and they kept work at work. The arrangement was working out perfectly, and the rules proved successful as well.

So, on paper, everything was going fine.

And everything was still fine when Halloween rolled around and the roommates planned a relaxed evening at Donahue’s followed by horror movies. They didn’t really get a chance to dress up due to work schedules and a lack of time, but they were dressed up in spirit.

They arrived early and snagged a booth: Jackie and Suki squeezing in on one side and Sienna and Aurora on the other. Elijah wheeled his chair under the head of the table. They chatted for a bit before Sienna jumped up to order a round.

A few beers and shots (courtesy of Jackie) later, the group were having some in depth conversations, making jokes, and generally enjoying each others company.

There was a rowdy, annoying group of surgical interns stood nearby the entrance. No sign of Bryce there, however. Suki was somewhat disappointed, it was an amusing thought to her to see Bryce out the open again since they’d made their rules. She’d been to his a couple of times since then, but they hadn’t seen each other all that much really. Those times had been quick and at the end of long work days too, so Suki was looking forward to being able to draw things out a bit more at some point soon. She’d been quite obviously avoiding hookups at her house if it could be helped, because there were too many risk factors.

Plus, with him being a surgeon his hours were completely different to Suki’s, and actually stealing moments could prove tricky. She might’ve been one of the best medical interns, but word at Edenbrook was that Bryce was excelling over all the surgical interns, actually being able to watch a few surgeries, too.

That being said, she was glad he wasn’t there. She was able to enjoy a lovely evening with her roommates without thinking about only her carnal desires.

But as though the world was sending her a sign, the bell over the door rang to indicate someone entering. Bryce entered by himself, walking straight past the rowdy group of surgical interns and heading right for the roommates. He was wearing a plain black tee and distressed blue jeans, a very different look to his green scrubs.

What was he doing here, if not to see the surgical interns? Had he come to drink… alone? Or had one of the roommates told him they’d be there? They had invited him to the housewarming party, after all.

Then again, if it wasn’t for that party, they never would have come to their little agreement.

There was a knowing smirk on his face as he got closer to the group.

Suki felt her stomach contract a little; they hadn’t really interacted that much as a group since the two had devised their little plan. She wasn’t going to let anything slip, but she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t be maybe a little awkward. Just a tad.

“Hey man! Come join us,” Elijah invited. Bryce grinned and squeezed in beside Suki on the bench.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably, not looking Bryce in the eye as she gave a greeting nod. His leg pressed against hers where they sat, and he was now so close that Suki could smell his cologne. Of course, nowadays, she only smelt that when they were having sex, so the smell brought her head right back to all those moments.

“Don’t you have friends over there?” Suki asked, motioning her head to where the group of surgical interns were congregated. They were now laughing obnoxiously about something.

An odd expression flashed over his face suddenly but was quickly warped into a smirk. “Well I’d rather spend time with you lovely nose wipers.”

“Oi!” Protested Jackie.

“Welcome! Enjoy our Halloween celebrations. They’re pretty lowkey this year, I wish we could all dress up and go to a party or something but, work calls,” Sienna rushed, smiling at Bryce opposite her.

Now that he was closer, and his hands lay casually on the table in front of him, Suki could see a few silver rings assorted over his long fingers. Interesting. She had an impulse to reach out and brush her fingers over them, or to have them dig into her own fingers, her body. And from that moment, she was screwed for the rest of the night. Serves you right for being so goddamn thirsty.

A few hours later, more drinks down and the thoughts having continued through her head, Suki nudged Bryce gently with her shoulder. They’d all been talking as a group for the night, so they hadn’t spoken one-on-one at all yet. He looked over at her, his face pretty close due to them sitting in such proximity. She brushed her nose with her middle finger - she could pass it off as a simple scratch. Bryce smirked. His eyes flicked subtlety down to Suki’s lips, and he chuckled under his breath, moving a thumb over his bottom lip and hanging his head when he looked away from her.

Just as he was about to slide off the bench and make up an excuse to leave, Sienna shouted:

“Guys! According to google maps there’s a walking ghost tour nearby. We should go!”

“I’m kinda spent-“ Bryce began.

“No! No way you’re bailing on this, Lahela. You’re one of us ‘nose wipers’ now. We bought you drinks!” Sienna cut him off, her sweet features contorting into mock anger.

He blew air from his cheeks, but he didn’t seem annoyed. “Is everyone going?”

“I… guess?” Added Suki.

“I’m… not sure,” hesitated Elijah.

“They’re not scary, Elijah. It’s just a load of paranormal bullshit,” Jackie said.

After a bit of coaxing and a couple more shots, the group headed out of Donahue’s. They walked down a few roads before they found a man in a long leather coat holding a lantern. Sienna bounded up to him and handed him some money, the others pointing out they’d pay her back later. He introduced himself as Henry and noted that they’d wait for some more people.

Bryce and Suki kept glancing at each-other, knowing their previous plans were probably not likely to happen. Nonetheless, Sienna’s excitement was rubbing off on everyone, and even Elijah seemed into the idea. Jackie and Aurora were discussing whether or not they believed in ghosts.

Soon enough, a large group had formed around Henry, and he went into an animated sing-songy tale about the ghost history around that area of Boston.

“And in this very alley…” Henry said dramatically a little later, “is where the ghost resides. AH!” Henry let out a loud shout, causing Suki to jump back into Aurora.

“You okay?” Aurora laughed. Suki nodded with a flustered chuckle, then Henry continued leading them down the road.

Well, that wasn’t at all embarrassing.

“Awwww, don’t tell me you’re scared, Santa Fe?” Bryce sidled up beside her.

“Of course I’m not scared!” She protested, “it’s easy to be shocked by a jump scare,” she turned her face ever so slightly, obstructing the tell-tale look on her face from Bryce’s gaze.

Henry was a fantastic story teller, emphasising the right parts and using his face and body to convey the different emotions; the group found themselves being swept up in the story. Or, facts, if one believed in the supernatural. Things were calming down a little in terms of the group being freaked out, and every now and again Bryce would lean over to Suki and whisper some kind of commentary about Henry’s story. She could just tell he was the type to talk through movies. But she didn’t mind, and actually found it quite amusing.

Then, just seconds later, a young group of guys were walking past and noticed the ghost tour, and simultaneously jumped and shouted at the touring group. It was a poor attempt to scare them. At this, however, Bryce himself yelped loudly and backed into Suki. She caught him, even though he was heavy.

“Awww, don’t tell me you’re scared, Scalpel Jockey? And of teenagers?” Suki mocked in an echo of his words before, holding the backs of his biceps in support. He had no jacket on, so his arms were chilly and she could feel the faint goosebumps on his skin. She found herself hoping her grip might warm him up a little. She was a doctor, after all. After a few seconds Suki let go of Bryce and the two scrambled a little to catch up with the group.

“How was I supposed to know they were just kids?!”

Suki threw her head back with a cackle as the image of Bryce cowering away from a group of teenage boys replayed in her mind. She raised an eyebrow at him, pulling her lips into her mouth.

“I wasn’t scared, obviously. No ones scared of teenagers. Well, maybe those people Gerard Way was talking about,” he laughed, his cocky demeanour flooding back into his words and face.

“And old people. Actually – lots of people find teenagers scary.”

“Well, not me.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as an MCR kid, though.”

“Only on the down-low,” he gave her a wink, “I was far too cool for that at school.”

“Right,” she scoffed, “Just too cool. Cool enough that you basically shat yourself at a random guy fucking with us.”

“You jumped a minute ago!”

“Yeah, along with half the tour group.”

He harrumphed. She shoved him playfully with her shoulder, partly as part of the conversation, but partly to put a little distance between them. There was still some alcohol lurking in her system and she just wanted to pull him into the alley from before, but, she couldn’t. He didn’t come closer again after the nudge.

“Shhh!” Chastised Jackie from in front of them, who was utterly engaged in Henry’s commentary. Bryce and Suki exchanged a look and tried to keep their laughter as quiet as possible.

—-

Later on, the group were walking up toward their apartment, discussing the night’s events. Everyone had a great time, even if it might not have been the Halloween they were all used to. They walked in a staggered lump, moving fluidly between each-other. Their voices carried down the empty Boston residential blocks, yellowed streetlights illuminating their smiling faces, setting the mood for the comedown of the night perfectly.

“…The Shining, duh. And we can’t forget The Conjuring, or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. These are classics, Aurora,” Elijah babbled along to the group.

“I vote Halloweentown,” piped up Sienna. Aurora laughed and dug her keys out of her pocket.

“Bryce, you coming in for movies?” Asked Elijah.

“Ah,” he looked over at Suki very briefly, “best not. It might be Halloween but I don’t function well on no sleep. Plus, I’ve intruded for long enough.”

Suki knew that if Bryce stayed there was every chance he’d be ending the night in her bedroom, and she’d been avoiding that since the Aurora situation.

“Killjoy,” chuckled Jackie, giving him a friendly smack on the back before entering the apartment building.

“See you next time!” Sienna pulled Bryce in for a hug, her tiny frame dwarfed by his six odd feet and broad stature. Elijah and Aurora chimed in with their farewells.

“Well… goodnight then,” nodded Suki. She didn’t go in for any kind of farewell, it wasn’t really their style. Particularly not in the company of others.

“Yeah. See you around.”

There was a moment where they kind of stared at each-other that felt like it went on for hours, but in reality was brief.

And with that, Bryce walked off down the road. There was an odd pang in Suki’s chest at the missed opportunity as she watched his figure get smaller and smaller. She’d been waiting since she’d given him the signal at Donahue’s for a chance to sneak off, trying not to look at him too much during the ghost tour or walk too close to him. There was just something ridiculously engaging about paying too much attention to Bryce Lahela that made her lose all her other thoughts. Even if she didn’t really want him to come in given everyone else, there was a sort of disappointment that he hadn’t seemed to want to come in. He’d only given her the briefest look and there was no signal, no attempt to continue the night. But it obviously just wasn’t in the cards for her to get laid that night.

That being said, Suki had enjoyed herself way more than she’d anticipated: the tour itself was entertaining, and of course spending time with her friends. And… Bryce wasn’t all that bad. Maybe sex wasn’t all he was good for. But either way, she couldn’t let herself get too tangled up in the other aspects of his personality, it would get messy.

“Come on then,” Sienna ushered the rest of them inside.

—-

“Hey,” Bryce’s voice rose up from behind where Suki sat eating a sandwich in the cafeteria. She turned to face him, bread stuffed in her mouth, and followed him with her eyes as he took the seat opposite her.

“Hmi,” she tried to say through her mouthful.

He barked out a laugh and pulled a shiny red apple from his pocket, flipping it round in his hands.

“When you’ve finished your mouthful,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “you free tonight?”

“Yeah, why?”

He gave her a disbelieving smirk. “You know why.” He took a casual bite from the apple, the crisp crunch ringing in her ears over the ruckus of the cafeteria.

She laughed, realising. “Sorry, still in Doctor mode. You could’ve texted, you know.”

“Eh, you were here, I needed a seat to eat my apple in. So?”

“Yeah, I’m free. I’ll drop by after my shift.”

“Cool.” He took another crunch from his apple and stood from the table, gave Suki a nod, and then swaggered off out of the cafeteria without a look back.

“See ya,” she muttered to herself.

Didn’t he just say he wanted to sit down and eat his apple?

—-

Suki exhaled breathlessly as Bryce rolled away from her body. They were both left in a sheen of sweat and exhausted. After a couple of moments for the duo to catch their breath, Bryce turned to face his body to her, propping his head up on his hand.

“So, not to be a bed brag or anything but… you just had sex with the guy who’s assisting on Dr Tanaka’s next surgery.”

Suki let out a breathy chuckle.

“You are a brag.” Then she turned so that she faced him from the other pillow, also propping up her head on her hand, “Well done, though.” Her voice went softer, and her face took on a disarming sincerity.

Bryce was taken aback by her genuine praise, but he couldn’t let her know that.

“Thanks,” he said, eyebrows furrowed with humour, “I’m actually really excited.”

“What’s the surgery?”

“Only an appendectomy.”

“Only?”

He laughed, sinking his head back down onto the pillow. His hands cradled under his head.

“Yeah, it’s not particularly advanced. Still, gonna be fun.”

They were talking as though they were friends, which wasn’t really a label Suki had felt appropriate to ascribe to their relationship.

“When is it?” Suki, stop asking him questions! Then again, at this point it would be awkward if she just up and left.

“Next week. Pencil it in your calendar because you are going to have the best sex of your life that night.”

Suki let out a cackle. “Is there anything you don’t think you’re amazing at?”

Again, Bryce propped himself back up so that he was facing Suki. There seemed to be a restlessness to all this changing of positions.

“I’m not lying though, am I?” As he said this his voice was low and sultry, deep mahogany eyes watching her from under his lashes. Those were sticking together slightly from the sweat, Suki was close enough to notice. He brought one of his hands down under the covers and rested it on Suki’s hip.

“If you’re trying to get me to boost your ego - It won’t work.”

He smirked, knowing that the answer he’d been looking for was hidden in those words. And she did agree. He was amazing in bed.

Bryce drew barely-there circles on Suki’s hip, before pulling it towards him. Then he leaned his face right in, so that it was inches from hers.

“I don’t need you to say it because I can see it in your eyes,” and yes, he was looking straight into her eyes. But she felt sort of drunkenly infatuated with it, her desire growing by the second. “and feel it on your skin.” His grip on her hip tightened, the sweat condensing between their skin-on-skin contact. Now they were close enough that they could do it all over again if they wanted to.

Bryce trailed his finger up from Suki’s hip slowly, tickling her skin and giving her goosebumps, over the dip of her waist, the rise of her ribcage; all the way up to her neck. He splayed his hand out flat over the front of her neck, and tightened his grip. Just enough that she could feel it. Face still inches from her, he said:

“I just have an effect on people.”

And then in one swift movement, and a melodious laugh, Bryce pulled his hand and his body from hers, falling once again on his back at the pillow beside Suki’s.

Fucking hell. Talk about flustered! Suki tried to pretend she was unaffected, also flopping back onto her pillow. He did have an effect on people and he knew full well by now that Suki, despite her best efforts to conceal the fact, was not someone who handled being flustered well. And let’s be honest, she wouldn’t keep sleeping with the guy if it wasn’t something she was enjoying.

Despite that, though, there she was, lying in Bryce’s bed post-lay and completely naked, and not worrying about it. Not in the way she’d worried their first morning, shuffling to cover herself with her bedsheets. She supposed by now he knew her body inside and out, and that emotional intimacy she’d been scared of had warped into a purely carnal intimacy. Plus, the fact that she hadn’t just woken up next to him, slightly hungover, probably helped.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” she practically choked out, as though his hand was still splayed over her neck.

He could tell he’d affected her, and that classic smirk spread wider over his face as he stared at his bedroom ceiling.

40 notes · View notes

vivilove-jonsa · 4 years

Text

Young at Heart at Oldstones

Since we have some lovely Jonsa-themed WIP Wednesday headers for Modern and Canon fic both, I’m going to share a couple of different things that have been sitting in my big Maybe file collecting dust. (You can find the Modern AU Headers here)

I don’t see much fic of Jon having a relationship with his grandmother so that was partly what sparked the idea for this one. Someday, I’ll get enough of it done to start posting on ao3 but here’s a good little bit of it.

****

“I don’t know about this, Mom. We’ve not spent much time together since I was a kid. What do I even say to her?” Jon asked as he had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, searching for a clean shirt.

“Just talk. She’ll be happy you came to see her.”

“Yeah but it’s going to be awkward after about five minutes.”

“You can handle a little awkward, can’t you? You’re not a kid anymore.”

She was right. He wasn’t. He was twenty-three and a graduate student at Riverlands University. He could give an hour or two of free time to his grandmother and not whine about it being a sacrifice. “I’m going…once I find a clean shirt.”

Lyanna laughed through the phone, making him smile to hear it. “I know it’s thirty minutes away but it’ll mean so much to her, Jon. I call her here and there but you know it’s…well, it’s awkward with us.”

He knew that. How could it not be awkward? Considering the circumstances of his conception and birth and the strained relations that had arisen between more than just his mother and father, he felt his mother was quite thoughtful for even bothering to call his paternal grandmother.

Speaking of which…

“You know, she has three kids who could visit her.”

“Yeah, she does and none of them visit. Your Aunt Dany is young…”

“Barely younger than me!”

“But she’s always been her father’s daughter at heart and she still blames your grandmother for the divorce.”

“Oh, yeah because Aerys is such a gem,” he said sarcastically.

“Families are complicated, Jon.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, Viserys can’t visit.” No, his sociopath of an uncle wouldn’t be visiting his mother. Hard to do when you’re behind bars. “And your father…”

“Is a self-absorbed asshole who found a retirement community for his mother four hours away from where he lives.” He heard his mother’s sigh and felt guilty for dredging up hurtful things. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re not wrong. She’s so excited you’re coming, Jon. I hope you can enjoy the visit, knowing that at least.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Oldstones Retirement Community was not a nursing home although he’d thought of it as one. He’d pictured some old depressing building resembling a hospital with blank eggshell white walls, dingy tiled floors and musty-smelling, hospital-style rooms.

Therefore, Jon was pleasantly surprised to see it was indeed a community, a neighborhood for the elderly with rows and rows of neat individual bungalows with their own little postage stamp yards spread out in an arch around a larger one level ‘community center.’

However, in order to get a pass to enter the gated section where those bungalows were, you had to check in at the center first.

Parking out front, he walked inside the center to get his bearings, the whoosh of the automatic doors giving him a blast of air conditioning on the exceptionally warm autumn day.

He caught sight of a young woman in navy blue scrubs holding the arm of an elderly man as they walked along. Thinking she might be an employee of the center, he approached.

“Hi. I was wondering if…”

His words and his train of thought were effectively stopped in their tracks when she turned towards him with forget-me-not blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Oh, hello,” she replied, a musical lilt to her voice as she looked at him expectantly.

Damn, she was beautiful. She was around his age, maybe a couple of years younger. Could she already be a nurse? Or just an assistant here?

There was a pattern to her scrubs, cartoon characters he recognized from childhood including Wiley Wolfe. It was cute. She was stunning.

The old guy beside her cleared his throat irritably and Jon realized he was just standing there staring at her and her scrubs. It’s not like he didn’t know how to talk to women but he felt his mouth going dry while he was drowning in those eyes of hers.

Her expectant smile began to morph into one of concern as the silence stretched on. Say something! Use your words, you idiot!

So unfortunately, Jon blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m here to see Gamma.”

Those were not the words I had in mind.

The beauty’s lips twitched and Jon felt heat flooding his face. Of course, he’d fall back to what he’d called Rhaella when he’d been two (not that he’d ever stopped calling her that when it was just him and her.)

“I mean, I was looking for my grandmother.”

“Oh, well…do you know which bungalow she’s in or…”

“Reception’s over there, kid,” the old man interrupted curtly. “My granddaughter doesn’t have your gamma hiding under her top either.”

“Grandpa!”

Jon’s red face was getting redder but now. Hers was, too. “I wasn’t looking!” Well, his eyes had lingered on her top for a minute there. “I was just…I like the wolf bit,” he said, nodding towards her chest. “Wiley was always my favorite.”

The wolf bit?! ‘Wiley was always my favorite?’ Gods, you are such a dumbass, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The old guy with his shaggy grey beard shot through with hints of red continued to glare at him. He had a cane and Jon wondered if he was about to use it on him. At least, she was smiling.

“I’m sorry for assuming. I just saw the scrubs and thought…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a nursing student, thus the scrubs. I just came by to see my grandfather today after my classes were done.”

“Checking up on me for your mother, you mean.”

“You know I want to see you anyway, Grandpa.”

She was still smiling but there was an edge of hurt feelings in her voice, too. Jon didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting her feelings although he didn’t even know her name. Yet.

The old man took the hint though and grasped her hand. “I know, darling. Sorry. They’ll help you out at reception, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Who’re you seeing anyway?”

“Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Rhaella?” he said, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s swell. I’m her neighbor, Hoster Tully.”

He held out his hand so Jon shook it. “Jon Snow.” He looked hopefully towards Hoster’s granddaughter, unable to hide his grin.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, shaking Jon’s hand as well, her cheeks still flushed a lovely shade of pink. “And I’m glad you have such good taste in cartoons.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s nice to meet you both.” Especially you.

“Have a nice time with your gamma, Jon,” Hoster chuckled. Never living down that introduction then. “The sweet shop’s open. You wanna ice cream, darling?”

Jon smiled, thinking his grandmother would likely ask him the same question.

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. “Do I want an ice cream or is it you who wants one, Grandpa?” she asked, clearly amused.

“I’m sure you’ll be reminding me of the doctor saying to watch my sweets, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I've been a good boy, I swear. I also remember when you couldn’t say no to mint chocolate chip,” he added in a slightly pleading tone.

“I still struggle to say no to it,” she laughed. “Maybe they have a no-sugar alternative."

"Blech. Help me out here, Jon."

"I, uh..." He looked between them both, Mr. Tully with pleading puppy dog eyes and Sansa with her hand still on her hip. "I mean, one little scoop’s not so bad and I'll bet they have a variety of options with, um...different sizes and calories, sugar-free and...you know I've never been here before in my life, right?"

They both started laughing and he was mesmerized by the tinkling sound of Sansa's as her eyes sparkled.

"Well, maybe we'll check out the varieties available, Grandpa," Sansa relented, giving Jon a wink. Hot damn! "It was nice to meet you, Jon. I hope you enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied as they continued down the hallway.

Sansa’s a pretty name. Where do you go to school? Riverlands? Please, say Riverlands. They've got a nursing program there...I think. Do you come here often? Can I buy you both an ice cream? Can I have your number? Do you have a boyfriend? I really do like the wolf bit.

Naturally, he’d think of a dozen things to say as she was walking away, not that he could say most of those things when they'd just met.

With a sigh, he headed towards the reception desk as Sansa and her grandfather disappeared from his view.

“Can I help you?” a woman wearing pink scrubs, a friendly smile and a name tag that said ‘Yaya’ on it asked.

“Yes, I’m here to see my gamma.” He groaned inwardly as her smile widened. “I mean, my grandmother. I want to visit Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Oh, Rhaella! What’s your name, honey?”

“Jon Snow.”

“Okay, Jon Snow, let’s take a look.” She opened a ledger to nearly the back page, her finger tracing downwards. “Do you have an ID on you, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

He grimaced as he pulled out his wallet. It was possible they asked this of all visitors but he had to wonder if his grandfather and uncle didn’t make this necessary for his grandmother. There was still an Order of Protection in place for his grandfather and Viserys wouldn’t be welcome lots of places, particularly around a potentially physically vulnerable population. Well, I’ll bet Old Hoster with his cane can take care of himself alright.

Yaya looked it over and then smiled, passing him a slip of paper with a word written on it.

“Hippie?”

“Yeah, that’s the gate’s passcode. Just use the alpha-numeric keypad to enter it and you can pull your vehicle through.”

“Okay but hippie?”

“The residents vote on it once a month. They tend to go with something that gives them a chuckle.”

“What was last month’s?”

“Prunes.”

“No shit?” Yaya’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed. Jon hadn’t meant to curse in front of a stranger but when he thought about the meaning there… “Sorry,” he said, failing to stifle his answering laughter.

After they’d settled down again, Yaya asked, “Does she know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Great. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t get…” Yaya trailed off, a soft melancholy settling in her warm brown eyes.

“Many visitors, I know,” he said, shifting guiltily. He’d moved here six weeks ago. He could’ve come sooner. “I…maybe that’ll change.”

“I hope so, Jon. Have a nice visit.”

#jonsa fanfiction #vivilove-jonsa fic #wip wednesday #jonsa #new fic that may never see the light of day on ao3 #but have some of it here anyway

38 notes · View notes