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codenamehazard · 4 months

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.:Crash Cart:.

Chapter 26: Crash Cart

Hey guys! You're in for a really special treat for this chapter! Gonna meet some new faces, some of them might look a little familiar from a different path walked.

Big thanks to @rogueshadeaux! You'll understand why when you read the chapter. ;)

Without further delay, Let's jump in!

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*HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK*

The sound of the HEMTT’s horn blares through the Convoy as Dove lead-foots it through this circus of a city, I’m assuming to find a hospital. A sharp turn nearly sends me to the floor along with some plants. Goddamn it! Kid’s driving like an absolute moron! Another turn and another jostle almost sends me careening into Kestrel as she gets on the radio mounted to the wall.

“Caper to Base, Caper to Base!” Kestrel barks into the radio. “Get a trauma team ready outside of Mercy Medical! We’re coming in hot and we have a live one! Over!” There is some chatter over the line that I could barely hear, but Kestrel could. “Yes, get Bear and get the twins! It’s Code Red urgent. Over!”

I gawk at the Gunsmith as she ends the communication and relays something to the panicking bird up-front. My head is full of questions; of who this “Bear” is and who the “twins” are. Though I have to admit, I’m impressed with Kestrel’s leadership.

I can’t help but to wonder, with how Kestrel handled everything, I’m genuinely surprised that she’s not the leader. Why isn’t she? I know that with our past, I’ve seen how nasty and vicious she could be, but I’m someone she hates, so she has no loyalty to me. With her team, however, she’s as loyal as they come. Ready to go to bat when they’re threatened, even standing up to me, the Beast, when I started verbally going after Mako… Are there some other personality traits that hinder her that I haven’t seen or is this a personal choice?

Perhaps… Is there something that we both share in common?

A sudden turn nearly makes me tumble into Kestrel and Mako as the dodo bird driving skids to a halt. I wanna yell at the idiot, but with the frenetic energy buzzing in the air, I decide against it. Kid’s spooked enough, not gonna add to it. Though I will give him a good zap later for the dumbass driving.

Mako and Kestrel quickly open the door as Pangolin’s voice begins to rise from a pitiful whimper to a scream. Damnit! The pain meds are wearing off and it won’t be long until he’s thrashing again! Thankfully I can see we stopped in front of a hospital and there’s a response team outside with a stretcher at the ready when the doors are open. I help Mako get the Brick Spartan off of the cot to transfer him, Dove joining in later after he puts the HEMTT in park. With Pangolin secured, we rush inside.

“Where are they?” I hear the Gunsmith bark out as she rushes to the head nurse. “Where’s Sbiaw and Ḱaʔk̓aʔ?!” I had to steel myself as to not guffaw at the nonsense that just tumbled out of Kes’ mouth. Sbee-yaw?? Ca-ca???? The fuck kind of callsigns are those?! Especially the second one, what brain-dead dumbass uses the Spanish word for “shit” as a callsign?! I can feel my mind wanting to continue on that train of thought, but a bellow quickly derails it.

“OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY, I NEED TO GET TO MY SON!!!!”

I turn my head to see, but I’m quickly yanked away by Kestrel and Mako. I’m about to give them hell for touching me without permission, but when I see what’s barreling down the hallways, I understand quickly why.

An absolute Amazoness of a woman, 7’0” tall, blazing red hair and a bear mask on her face, is charging down the hall like a rampaging bull, knocking away anything blocking her straight-shot path to us, specifically to Pangolin. As much as I hate to admit it, if I hadn’t been pulled out of the way, that woman would have sent me flying.

Behind the woman, looking tiny compared to her, were two individuals rushing to keep up with the rampaging mother. A man with brown hair that almost has a metallic shine to it and seafoam eyes and a woman with black hair and brown eyes, both of them equally focused on getting to the Spartan as well.

Soon, all hell breaks loose as soon as Pangolin starts screaming in pain. The meds must have worn off. The man with the shiny hair turns his arms from flesh to steel with a thought and helps Bear with holding the howling man down, the metal conduit using rebar to make restraints to keep Pangolin from thrashing and hitting someone. The black-haired woman walks up to Kestrel and starts talking to her, questioning her about “What the fuck has gotten into Pangolin??” What they were saying, I couldn’t hear clearly over the chaos, but I know as soon as Kestrel mentions “blink scorpions” the woman’s face went pale.

“Everyone! Get Pangolin in the Poison Ward asap!!” The woman shouts in alarm. “Double time it! If we don’t get antivenom and anti-corrodium compounds in him soon, he’s going to be in deep shit!!” Anti-corrodi-wha?! What does that even mean?! First we get stupid names and now this?! What in the hell is happening??? I don’t get any time to think about it before everyone scrambles as fast as they can without knocking over the stretcher. I can feel the beginnings of a cold sweat form as a foggy memory slips in from the mental maelstrom, the memory of myself being on a stretcher with the same chaotic energy around me before everything went black.

What happens next blurs together, adrenaline and chaos making everything hazy. A flurry of panicking feet with Bear leading the charge and clearing the way while everyone else, me included, rush the stretcher down the hall.

We’re about to get to the door, but the black-haired woman stops us. Dove gives her a dismayed look

“What the hell, Crow?!” He blurts out as the medical staff take Pangolin into the room.

“Don’t start with me, Dove.” The woman, Crow, warns the Get-Away. “You know the rules, we can’t have too many people in the room right now. Brent’s allowed in there because he’s going to help keep Pangolin under control until we can get his pain managed and the detox procedure started. Bear’s allowed in because she’s his mother.”

“But I’m his brother and she’s my mother too!” Dove protests as he is about to step forward, but Kestrel puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Drop it, Dove.” The Gunsmith states firmly. “I know you’re worried about Pango, but Crow’s right. Right now, it’s best for there to be as few bodies as possible.”

“But mom-”

“- Can help Coyote with controlling Pangolin if he starts wigging out.” The Gunsmith interrupts. “Look, let’s not give Crow and the staff grief and wait out with everyone. When Pango’s stable, then we can visit.” I can see Dove giving Kestrel a heated glare, but he sighs with an “alright, fine.”

“I’ll keep you all updated.” Crow assures Dove before she turns to look at me with a curious, yet cautious look. I don’t pay her much mind, I’m too focused on Kestrel and Dove to really notice the funny look.

With Dove finally convinced, we head off out to one of the waiting rooms. I rub my temples as I hear my tinnitus start setting in and a headache rearing its ugly head. I could use a stiff drink.

Actually, scratch that. I need some warm water and a nap.

#infamous #infamous 2 #cole macgrath #demon of empire city #infamous: no man's land #xeno writes #caper #blast shard caper #pangolin #dove #Mako #Brent Rowland #Jean Rowland #Special thanks to RogueShaduex again for letting me borrow her babies #They'll have lots of fun with my idiots.#And I hope you will be sleeping better now knowing that your husband's in good hands now.

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kdipshit · 1 year

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Well I Got The Thing I Needed, I Guess…

I have to learn to do everything my own way, as doing something with someone else’s perspective is just not possible. I have to be difficult all the time huh…

My body stays the same even tho it feels like my brain switches. Perspectives change. Beliefs. Realisations. Like the person I was 1 hour ago was dark and gloomy and quick to anger. irritated. But BPD irritation. I wanted to turn into a tornado and rip thru my entire house taking everyone up in it. Lol. Jk. But fr… and the person I am now is nothing like that. I don’t even think that way at all, why would I even want to it sounds like a war zone over there. Lets remember the parts of ourselves that occupy the body when the body is feeling so dark. She’s still us. Thats still me. Lol how do I say that? Im still me. Thats better. Im so sick of these walls in my brain keeping me from the other sides of myself, I can’t stay in the dark space for very long without scratching my way out. And its painful. Am I supposed to stay in that feeling until it passes? Coz sometimes it feels like it doesn’t fucking end, so I grab my bong and then I’m better. But weed is limited. Sometimes I think ill be better if I was just on the right meds. Im still very upset about my psych trip. And it makes me feel so discouraged to even continue trying…. But. I will keep trying. As long as I have weed to lean on, I’m straight as. But I’m not ignoring the darkness by trying to feel better. I can look at it in another perspective. I gotta do better. I gotta do better. The bruised knuckles do give me character tho. I should message A more quickly next time, she really did an amazing job at switching my perspective, its like she knows exactly how to talk to me. Im so grateful.

+ the weed makes me write better. Its easier to write down the thoughts… I found myself sounding like my hippie ass aunty telling my little sister that thoughts become things lol. Its such a shame that I’m actually crazy because no one really believes me lol. thoughts do become things tho, she was right, I just didn’t see the bigger picture, and I guess no one ever really will until they can for themselves. THANK YOU FOR PAIN. You give your shadow self love by learning how to thank the pain, and the hard journey, and the sleepless nights and teary eyes. Learning better methods, keeping yourself out of thought loops by treating every single day as brand new. Realising no ones got a problem with me lol. Im not a problematic person.

anyways…. Whats been going on wed chyall? Lol imagine all that trauma dumping and then I sip my tea. Your turn aunty. I’m always trine rush finish something because the act of doing something for too long freaks me out. Thats gotta be that ADHD hoe, which will be fixed if I fkn get my right meds bro wtf!!! D: like so much of my problems would be fixed if I just had the fun goddamn meds Jesus FUCK. Is it that hard around here? They think imma pill popper bro won’t even give me valium anymore, dogs. No fkn wonder why I’m smoking like smokey mother fucker, my shits al the way fucked up my boy. Give me the fucking pills lmaoooo. And up them anti-psychotics while your at it lmaoooo.

Does anyone else have conversations with other people in your head? Thats a normal thing right? Well the convos in my head are too quick to for me to write down, but they be having me fucked up on some different shit. I just did it, I just stopped a bad thought for manifesting bigger and replaced it with a better one AS SOON as it appeared. Sometimes I’m not quick enough and it catches me instead. I sat with myself today, I don’t even remember what I wrote in the ideation one. But I remember what mindset I was in, I’m curious to see how honest with myself I was. I can be honest with myself right now and day I don’t think I did good enough. There were times where I was thinking I really don’t wanna do this anymore. I forgot what I needed to remember, which was to redirect all go those feelings into positive ones, I know these things, but at some point, every emotion on peak feels the same, so I was historically crying on the way home, recklessly, because I forgot to remind myself, to switch the thought, look at everything else thats good, and setback or something super annoying happening is because your energy is needed elsewhere!! Butterfly effect, nothing in the end is bad. Its just a redirection, stop being so controlling, and let it be, let it flow, while you only control yourself, your reactions and your thoughts. Thoughts determine emotions, and emotions are my kryptonite.

The problem is my thought patter, and how it recycles the same 10-30 sentences over and over again. Some fkn crazy delulu, some that genuinely make sense cuz, and then the same normal other shit, right???? lol. Idk what I’m saying anymore but sometimes I ramble write (all the time) and I read it back and its dope as fuck and I actually make sense.

My poor knuckles are busted all because I knocked and no one answered. Well nah fuck, it was that, and then it was the non answered door last week too, its the non answered phone calls its the non answered emails like broooo. Should not be this hard to see a psychiatrist in my city I swear to god. Without weed I’m completely self destructive, I need to build my strength on my other positive coping mechanisms because typing really hurts. And I love to write. Self destructive me is very overwhelmed and unsure how to untangle everything so everything comes out as a big fat cry.

#blogging #new blog #mental health #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing

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keilemlucent · 3 years

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(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧ (minors do not interact)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating,

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside.

It is easier this way.

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe.

Acid stings your throat for hours.

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.)

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

(You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward!

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips.

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks.

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting.

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom.

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

#salem writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw yandere #tw vomit #it's vomit from illness btw #tw self injury #please lemme know if i miss a tag #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #i might delete this or repost to my side blog sdklfjla #we will see #for now it is here

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deanstead · 3 years

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I’ll Take Care Of You

Pairing: Will Halstead x Reader

Requested by anon: reader comes back home with her boyfriend Will after one year being away. she tries to hide the fact that she feels sick to Will so he doesn't worry, but he soon realizes about it. he takes her to the hospital against her will, and there he treats her of the anemia he discovers she's suffering. also, reader is afraid of doctors, and Will is really worried about reader's health.

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of illness, fluff

A/N: Received a specific request to write for Will so I thought I would try this out! Please let me know what you think, if I should write more for Will too? Am in no way a doctor or nurse so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes in medical terminology or situations! Even so, hope you like this one! Taglists are open!

*gif not mine*

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“Y/N?”

You looked up from where you were sitting on the floor in front of his apartment, although you could already imagine the look on Will’s face. You smiled, getting to your feet as he ran towards you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling his face into your neck.

It had been a year. One whole year since you had been forced to leave Chicago for work. Professionally, it had been good for you. It was good career progression and all that crap your boss had forced down your throat but it had been difficult for you as well. Leaving your friends, your family, your boyfriend behind.

“When did you get back?” Will asked, gently pulling himself away to look at you.

You smiled. “I came straight from the airport.” You paused, “I hope that’s alright.”

“It’s better than alright.” Will answered, pulling you into another hug. “Come on.”

Will fumbled with the keys for a while before he pushed the door open.

The moment the door was closed, Will pushed his lips down onto yours, as you felt the rush of warmth from just being near Will – a feeling you hadn’t had in a year, and the feeling that you had missed the most.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Will whispered.

You looped your arms around his waist, pushing yourself closer to his chest. “So am I.”

---

Being back in Chicago was great for you. What was not so great was the light-headedness that had followed you back as well.

You had always tired easily but you had figured the stress in New York had made it worse. Stress coupled with being alone in a new city had definitely made it worse. But you hadn’t expected to still be feeling this after being back.

Will glanced at you over the table in his apartment and you could see the small furrow in his brow that indicated he was worried. “Y/N? You okay?”

You realised you had been frowning while waiting for the headache to pass.

You nodded, smiling back at him. “Yeah, just tired.”

Will smiled, although he still looked a little worried. “Nothing caffeine won’t fix. Come on, you’re going to be late.” You said as you walked around the table, heading to him as he leaned forward to give you a kiss.

He turned to walk out the door and you felt a dizzy spell hit you. You grabbed the edge of the table but not quietly enough. Will spun back around as he heard a dull thud from the impact of your palm hitting the table, and he saw you sway a little on your feet.

Quickly, he made it back to you, throwing his bag onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Will was by your side, a steady hand on your shoulder as you sank to the ground.

“I’m fine.” You managed to get out, feeling a slight shortness of breath.

Will looked at you a little while more, studying you. “Okay, that’s it, you’re coming to Med with me.”

“Wait, what?” You asked. “Will, I’m fine, it’s just a dizzy spell.”

Will shook his head. “Humor me.”

“Will…” You tried to protest but he looked at you.

“You gonna walk with me, or do I have to carry you there?” Will asked, and you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

“Fine.” You relented, finally letting Will lead you towards his car.

---

“Will, you know how much I hate doctors.” You whined, as he put you into a treatment room.

Will looked at you. “Ouch.”

You smiled. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ll be right here, okay?” Will reassured me as a nurse came in. “Doris, can we get a CBC, CMP, the complete tests.”

You shot a glance at Will. “It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He planted a kiss on your head before heading out.

“You’re better at this than I gave you credit for.” You told Doris, who smiled. “Let me know if you need anything.” She said before she disappeared out the room.

---

Will watched you from where he stood at the doctors’ station.

“Will?” Maggie called, following his line of vision.

“What’s Y/N doing here?” She asked, looking back at him.

Will looked back at Maggie. “I’m waiting on the test results.” Will’s expression was strained although he tried not to let it show. “I practically had to drag her in here. Why didn’t she tell me?”

Maggie looked at him. “I’m sure she just didn’t want you to worry.”

Will sighed and Maggie patted his arm reassuringly. “I’ll try to put a rush on those tests.”

“Thanks Mags.”

Just then, a faint beep sounded from the treatment room you were in. “Dr Halstead!”

Will’s head snapped up as he ran to your room.

“What happened?” He demanded, looking at you, your eyes wide, your chest heaving.

“Will…”

Doris looked up at Will. “Sats are dropping.”

“Oxygen. Now.” He instructed, as Doris nodded. He turned back to you, “Shh, it’s okay. We’re going to give you some oxygen. I need you to try to relax okay? It’s okay.”

You nodded, as Doris gently put the oxygen on you and you felt oxygen slowly fill your lungs once again.

Will watched you, a small worried frown still resting on his forehead but he smiled when he noticed you watching him.

“We’ll figure this out. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Will gently stroked your hair.

You nodded, watching him hurry out of the room.

Will sighed, taking a last look towards your treatment room before heading straight for Maggie.

---

“Hey.” You looked up as Will entered again.

“I got your results.”

Will sighed as he sat on your bed. “The tests show you have anemia. You must have been having these symptoms for a while. When did they start?”

You blinked back at him. “What? Anemia?”

Will took your hand, “Has it ever been this bad?” You immediately shook your head. You could kind of tell Will was holding something back and it made you wonder if he was mad at you.

“Your red blood cell count is lower than I would like. Let’s do an iron infusion today to improve your levels then we can make a plan to manage it, alright?”

You sighed. “More needles?”

Will gave a small smile. “I’ll stay with you while they set it up?”

You gave him a skeptical look but didn’t answer. “Please?” Will said.

“Thar’s so unfair, Will. You know I can’t say no to you when you do that.”

Will took your hand and kissed it. “Just the iron infusion then I should be able to take you home, okay?”

You nodded, wincing a little as you felt the IV pierce your skin. “That’s it.” Doris said, smiling.

“Will.” You called, before he left. “I’m sorry.”

Will frowned slightly again. “For what?”

You looked pointedly at the room around you, your eyes finally resting on the IV needle.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Will planted a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

You nodded but you could see the hesitation in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” You reassured, giving him a smile before he finally nodded, giving Doris more instructions before he left.

---

Will hadn’t said a word since you had been discharged. He had just silently led you out of the ED and into his car.

He swung open the door to his apartment, leading you to the couch. You leaned against the fabric of Will’s couch as he put two iron pills in your palm and handed you a glass of water.

You echoed his silence, swallowing the iron pills, your eyes following him as he pattered back towards the kitchen.

You stretched your legs out, lying flat on the couch before turning your head in, so that your face was hidden from view, buried into the cushion.

You could hear Will pattering about, you even knew exactly where he was in the house based on the sound of his footsteps and you felt the sting of tears behind your eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be anemia. They were supposed to be symptoms that resolved once you were back in Chicago. Which they weren’t. And now, Will was probably mad at you.

“Y/N, you can sleep inside.” Will said, absentmindedly.

When you didn’t respond, he gently touched your shoulders but you didn’t move so he gently tugged, turning you around. You tried to resist, you didn’t really want to let him see you crying because you couldn’t explain it anyway, but it was like fighting a losing battle.

You saw the moment that Will realised you were crying and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” He asked, a tone of worry evident in his voice.

You didn’t say anything as Will studied you. “Are you feeling breathless? Y/N, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered again.

“What…” Will trailed off, before helping you sit up, sitting on the ground in front of you, and looking straight into your eyes.

“I didn’t… I just didn’t want you to worry.” You whispered, pulling your eyes away from his. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They said it was stress symptoms. I…”

“Woah.” Will stopped you, realizing what was happening. “I’m not mad.”

You looked up at him, as he continued, “I’m just worried. You should have told me this was happening.”

“I’m sorry.” You said again, as Will got to his knees and enveloped you into a hug.

“It was hard.” You whispered. “Being away from you for a year.”

Will didn’t say anything but you could feel him leaning further into you.

“But you’re here now.” He finally whispered in your ear. “I’ll take care of you.”

You pulled out of his embrace to look at him, putting a hand on his cheek, his stubble tickling your palm. “We’re lucky, it’s not that serious. We just need to manage it, and you’ll be fine… we’ll be fine.” Will whispered.

You smiled, “Thanks, Will.”

“Don’t keep it from me if you’re unwell, okay?” Will asked.

You nodded. “Okay, I promise.” You answered, smiling as you nuzzled back into his embrace.

---

WILL HALSTEAD TAGLIST

@winterberryfox | @bestillmystuckyheart | @jayhlstead | @winterreader-nowwriter

If you would like to be added to a taglist, you may request here or send me an ask!

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minachuuu · 3 years

Text

Itzy Reaction to being sick and cared by their S/O

This was so fun to write, knowing some of the Itzy girls, I don’t think they fancy the idea of staying still, but it’s super fluffy and domestic!💖

Yeji

You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched once again at your girlfriend urgently roaming around the apartment. The doctor had demanded her to rest for a few days but you weren't sure what that really meant for her, or if she even knew what the word 'rest' meant.

Being the oldest member and leader for quite a while, Yeji had forgotten how it really felt to be taken care of. You can't blame her for always wanting to look after herself instead of letting herself be taken care of, but it was definitely making your job of keeping her in bed a little harder than usual.

You had been running around the place reminding her to rest, and every time she went and sat on the sofa, but didn't last there more than five minutes at a time. As your last resource to finally get her to stay put, you went to get a huge blanket, wrapped her from behind on it, carried your 'Yeji burrito' bridal-style to your bedroom and unwrapped her there.

"Hey Y/n! What was that for!?" She whined as she let herself fall into the bed. Her curious eyes followed you as you ran all around her.

"It doesn't look like you're as sick as you say you are!" She furrowed her eyes, confused at your statement. "Just let me show you what it really means to rest, okay?"

You turned on the TV in one of her favorite dramas, successfully engaging her attention as you went and prepared more things for her. As the bath filled itself with hot and steamy water, you prepared a hearty and warm dinner for her, put little candies with the meds that she had to take and made sure she always had a good supply of water and tissues. It was all pretty new to Yeji, to just lay and have all those things just come to her, but she could definitely get used to it, especially if at the end of the day, it meant more cuddle time with you.

Lia

Jisu is one of the most clever girls you have ever met in your life, part of what attracted you to her was that she would get everything she wanted in ways nobody really saw coming. And that alone was the reason why you lowkey started suspecting if she really was that sick at all.

She was enjoying all your cares a little too much to have an injured ankle that needed rest, that maybe for a moment you wondered if she acted as if it was more severe than it was only to get a little extra rest time. But every time you think of that, you remember how she looked like when she arrived home the night she injured herself.

It happened back in practice, only a misplaced step was enough and Jisu had twisted her ankle, falling down to the ground. Her staff had already taken her to the doctor, as you only got to receive her back home, being carried in the arms of her manager.

Even after listening to the story and witnessing the deep bruise on her ankle, she still had the nerve to joke about the whole ordeal.

"Maybe I need to twist my ankle more often if that means you're going to spoil me this good!" She sneered while tasting the food that you had ordered for her, her smile never erasing off her face.

"I'll spoil you all you want," You whispered, with hints of concern scattered in your voice. "But please, no breaking any limbs on purpose."

Jisu was a strong woman, you had absolutely no doubt about that in your heart. The way she handled everything life threw at her always with a smile and humor as her weapons, only reassured another thing that made you fall hard for her from the first time you met: How she always saw the good side of life.

Ryujin

"But I'm fineeeeeee!" It was probably the hundredth time you heard Ryujin excuse herself as she walked around your apartment. You counted down on your head and exactly as you hit cero, she sneezed once again, shaking the entire house in the process.

You had honestly given up on making her stay still, Ryujin has always been incredibly stubborn though she rather likes calling herself a persevering person. From the instant that you first started noticing her increasingly common sneezes, her stuffy nose and sore throat you wanted to take her to the doctor, but she kept dismissing you every time, saying that she 'didn't feel bad at all' But you knew her a little too well, and it was only a matter of time before…

You know those times where she throws her little tantrums? You leaned against the door frame while you watched her groan against her yoga mat as she laid flat over her stomach. You let her vent all that was necessary, until she turned around and finally faced you.

"Okay, maybe I'm not feeling precisely incredible," She accepted, shrinking her shoulders. You helped her up and offered her a tissue.

"Shall we go get you checked?" You scoffed lightly, to what Ryujin sheepishly nodded.

The doctor was quick to tell you both that it was only a cold, and sent you both back home to rest. She was very complacent into taking her meds and rest enough, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be frowning the entire time. You only chuckled at her facade, there was no way she was hating all the attention and cares as much as she wanted to show it. Because when Ryujin thinks you're not looking, her smile shines as she cuddles into you, holding for dear life the hot cup of tea that you know how to prepare exactly as she likes it.

Chaeryeong

No one enjoys looking at their girlfriend being all sad about hurting herself. Chaeryeong wasn't amused when the doctor told her that she had to heavily rest for at least three days if she wanted her leg to heal perfectly. You had noticed her a little blue after the incident, but she knew she had to take care of herself if she wanted to go back and dance her heart out like she loved to.

You had enough of her sad frown, you missed your girlfriend's smile and even in these circumstances you were put on getting it back. You stood up from the couch where you both were turning the endless channels for something interesting to see, getting your phone, you ordered Chaeyoung's favorite takeout and a few sweet treats to spoil her. As you waited for your food to arrive, you ran to your room and collected all the pillows, banquets and cushions you could find.

For the last touches, you cleaned the dust off your string lights and rushed over to the living room, hanging them around from all different places. Chae's eyes only followed you around, confused. She watched you putting up the lights and hanging huge blankets from the furniture, covering all the floor and sharp edges with pillows and… that's where it dawned on her.

"Jagi! Why are you making a fort?" She asked, while a grin was being painted on her once gloomy face.

"It's not precisely how we planned it initially," You took the remote and changed over to Netflix. "But how do you say we take advantage of this, and have that movie date we talked about?"

Her eyes sparked as her grin grew from ear to ear, just as the bell ringed, with all your favorite snacks at your door ready to have a fun binging date. Part of her couldn't believe she was so lucky to have a partner as sweet and incredible as you, but if it was a dream in any way, she prayed she never woke up from it.

Yuna

Usually, when someone has a cold it wears them off, tiring them, making them look like walking zombies. Not Yuna! Of course not! If all, you looked even more tired of keeping up with her energy even if she was the one with the cold. But you knew her, she's just like that. And to be honest, from the beginning you weren't really trying to maintain her on the bed, you knew it was going to be impossible.

But your deal consisted of her staying home and not making anything really vigorous, you took on the tasks of reminding her of the meds she had to take throughout the day, cooking her warm soup, making hot tea and supplying with enough tissues needed. But she wasn't keen on just watching the TV and letting you do all the hard work alone! So wherever you were, she was always there right besides you, talking her soul out through her sore throat about funny anecdotes with her members.

Finally the sun set up on the horizon as you both sat in bed watching some of her favorite dramas eating some light and warm dinner. You still didn't totally understand how she was able to keep jumping from side to side over the bed, but you watched her joyfully as she did. The night was young when she slammed into your body, cuddling down with you when she let out a deep sigh.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me Y/n." She whispered as she tightened her grip around you.

"It's always my pleasure Jagi." You caressed her hair lightly, running her strands through your fingers. "What would you like to eat tomorrow?"

But you received no response back after a while. You looked down at the girl in your arms, her closed eyes and gentle smile laying on your chest, as her heavy breath gave up that she had finally run out of energy.

#itzy reactions #itzy scenarios #itzy imagines #itzy yeji #itzy ryujin #itzy lia #itzy chaeryeong #itzy yuna

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Note

Congrats on the 100! That's fantastic! :) I was wondering if you could do prompt 2 with BB era Echo, please?

Hi,

Thank you so much <3!

I hope you'll like it.

Love, Charlie

-------

Echo x Genderneutral!Reader

Warnings: None

2. Friends to Lovers

-------

So far you didn't regret your decision to leave Kamino with the Bad Batch and Omega, but every now and then you questioned it a bit. Though whenever you were in one of those moods, as you liked to call it, there was Echo. Even just looking at him, hearing his voice or, even better, his laugh, in the distance helped you realize that you had in fact made the right choice. Before you left you had been a medic on Kamino, often assigned to Clone Force 99. That's how you met Echo, shortly after he joined the group, and how the two of you became close. After his rescue he had to spend a lot more time in the med bay than his brothers and you quickly came to the realization that he wasn't too fond of the droids that usually took care of the smaller injuries, which is why you made an effort to be there for him the second he entered the cold and sterile environment. To say that Echo instantly warmed up to you would be a lie, but once he did it was like the two of you had been friends forever. He told you everything, not only classified facts about the missions he went on with the others or the habits and characteristics of each member of the Bad Batch, but also about his other brothers. Fives, Rex, Jesse, soon you felt as if you knew them as well. His voice grew fond when he spoke of them, and you couldn't help but feel for him when he told you about everything he and his brothers had been through. In retrospect you should have known that you were in love with him way earlier, but the realization only hit you when he stormed into your small room, asking you to run away with him. You knew the right thing to do would be to alert the Kaminoans, the Empire, any sort of authority figure and to lock Echo in your room until they arrived. But the way he held out his hand, his human hand, for you to take and the hopeful look in his eyes made you throw your few belongings in an old backpack and follow him to the Marauder. Since then you've been through ups and downs, and the only constant in your new life was Echo. Echo, who had grown from your favourite patient, to your friend, to your best friend and now the man you were hopelessly in love with, something that Omega, with her childlike curiosity and emotional intelligence, seemed to have picked up on. "Why don't you ask him out?", Omega asked you, a question she seemed to have every now and then. "Because I don't know if he likes me", you told her. With a sigh that was just a bit louder than intentioned you closed the drawer of medical supplies you had just been sorting through. "Of course he likes you, he's your best friend", the girl replied. You now leaned against the drawer and looked at her. In the short time you had been travelling together it seemed as if she had grown already, you'd have to buy her some new clothes the next time you stopped somewhere. "I know he likes me, but I don't know if he likes me like I like him." You jumped as a new voice entered the conversation. "If you're talking about romantic feelings, I'm certain Echo has those for you", Tech told you matter of factly. Omega shot you an I told you so look, which made you roll your eyes. You liked every member of your small group, you really did, but did they have to get involved in this? "You really should just talk to him", Tech added before he left, a bacta patch in his hand.

-------

Talk to him, echoed in your mind all day. Easier said than done, but you knew that the more time you spend with Echo, the more inevitable it became. Maybe this was your opportunity. The two of you were out on a supply run, alone. The planet was small, but peaceful and you had time for a conversation. "Hey, Echo", you started, not even knowing what you were going to say next. "Mhm," he replied while shifting through a stack of second hand shirts. "I... You... You're my best friend, right?", you stuttered. You could see him nod absentmindedly from where you stood behind him. "Do you think Omega would like this?", he suddenly asked, turning around holding a cozy looking grey jumper with a black skull, not unlike the Batch's symbol, in the center of it. Your eyes went from Echo to the jumper and back to the clone. So much for a confession. But maybe it was a good thing, maybe you shouldn't tell him in a market, surrounded by so many other people. After all, telling your best friend that you were in love with him was supposed to be a private affair. "I'm sure she'll love it." A small smile made its way to Echo's face. You knew he didn't have much to give, not in the way of credits or material things at least, so he valued every small gift he could give. You still had a shiny rock in your backpack, which Echo had brought back for you just a few days after you met because its colour reminded him of the colour of your eyes. Looking back at it you should have known that you would eventually fall in love with that man right that moment. Or when he had returned, bloody and beaten with a malfunctioning right leg, but instead of focusing on his injuries the only thing on his mind had been to give you the necklace you now wore every day. It was simple, a silver chain with a star at the end, but it was the most valuable thing you possessed. "I still have a few credits to spare, would you like anything?", Echo asked after he paid for the jumper. You shook your head. While there are things you would want, you knew that you couldn't, shouldn't, ask for them right now. And you also knew that asking Echo to buy something for himself instead would lead nowhere, you'd tried often enough. "How about we get something to eat instead? I saw this cute little bakery on our way into town." Echo agreed and just a few minutes later the two of you walked out of the bakery, each with something called a star explosion in hand, as well as four more in your pockets for the others. "I understand the star part, but why explosion?", you asked as you looked down at the star shaped treat in your hands. Your eyes went to Echo, who had just taken his first bite and now looked at you in wonder. "Ochet", he mumbled, trying to chew and speak at the same time. You couldn't help but laugh. Most of the time Echo was serious, sometimes bordering on stern, but every now and then there was a hint of the man he might have been before his entire world went to shit, a humorous and lively side of him came to light. "Chocolate", he said again, this time with an empty mouth, but a bit of creamy nougat clinging to his bottom lip. Your laughter died down, but the smile remained. You knew that Echo loved chocolate, and rarely ever got to eat it. "A treat as sweet as you, it seems", you said, half joking and half serious. Echo didn't reply, he just looked at you in a way he's never looked at you before. Colour was rising to his pale cheeks, a sure sign that he didn't quite know what to say to that. "You think I'm sweet?", he finally asked. Now blood was rising to your cheeks as well. Maybe now was the time to confess. You had left the town behind, now walking along a flowery meadow, some might say this was the perfect opportunity. "I do." You decided not to say anything else for the moment, waiting for Echo's reaction. He smiled at you. A smile that was so sweet and genuine it warmed your heart. "I think you're sweet as well." Your heartbeat started to quicken at his words. Could this be it? The moment of truth? The point of no return? "Yeah?", you

asked, deciding in the last moment to delay your confession a bit longer. "Yeah", Echo confirmed. He looked at you and then at the star explosion in your hand. "In fact, I think you're a lot sweeter than chocolate." There was humour, but also sincerity in his voice. The hopeful part of yourself had a feeling where this was going to go, so you played along. "I think your heart is warmer than the jumper you bought for Omega." Echo laughed as he looked around, clearly trying to come up with something else. "I think you smell better than all the flowers in the galaxy combined", he told you, his eyes flitting between you and a flower on the edge of the path you were walking. Within a few quick seconds he had bent down and picked it for you, securing it behind your ear. "Good one", you told him with a smile. "I think... I think you're hotter than the twin suns on Tatooine." You knew this was a bolder statement than the ones before, but judging by the look on Echo's face he didn't mind at all. Instead he brushed the pad of his thumb along your jawline. It was only then that you noticed that not only had the two of you slowed down, you had stopped walking all together, now standing alone in the middle of the meadow with the setting sun in the distance. "I think you're more beautiful than the first ray of sunlight after a long night", he said, his voice now close to a whisper. This is is, the voice in your head told you. You took a deep breath, leaned into his soft touch and looked him deep in the eyes before you finally confessed. "I think I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy." For a moment Echo didn't say anything and you began to fear that you had ruined everything, this moment, your friendship, your future with the Bad Batch. But then a smile broke out on his face, brighter and happier than any you had seen before. "I know I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy, cyar'ika." Now it was your turn to smile. You leaned a bit closer, closing the last few centimeters between the two of you, and brushed your nose lightly against his. "Good, because I know too." "Yeah?" "Yeah." It only took that little word for Echo gently press his lips against yours. That first kiss was short and sweet and perfect. As was the second one. Only when your lips met for the third time did it turn a bit hungrier, more pressing. Echo opened his mouth to allow you to take the last hint of chocolate remaining on his tongue. Now that you've tasted both you could confirm that Echo was in fact a lot sweeter than any chocolate in the galaxy. "We should get back to the others", you whispered against his lips after yet another kiss. "I know", Echo mumbled, his lips now pressing soft kisses on your jawline. "But they can wait a few minutes, I've waited way longer for this, for you." Who were you to deny him? After all, you had waited for this moment just as long as he had.

-------

I don't know what it is about Echo that always makes me want to write the softest fluff for him, but he deserves the world after everything he's been through (as well as lots of chocolate and kisses)

#echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x you #tbb echo x you #arc trooper echo x you #echo x y/n #tbb echo x y/n #arc trooper echo x y/n #echo imagine #tbb echo imagine #arc trooper echo imagine

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 14

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 5,000ish

Summary: Just another day at the medical center, right? (Based off Grey’s Anatomy)

Heading back into the hospital, you went straight for Natasha’s room. The other interns were already in there, surrounding her bed.

“Hey,” you smiled, walking over to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she responded. “I’m okay.”

You grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. She needed to know that you were there for her, but you weren’t going to push her into talking about something she wasn’t ready to talk about.

~~~

You slammed down a shot, needing to feel the alcohol rush down your throat.

“How was Nat when you left, Scott?” Val asked, bringing more drinks over.

“She said she was okay, again,” he responded with a slight shrug.

“Nobody goes what she went through and is totally over it by now.”

“Natasha can.”

“She’s fine,” you added, taking another shot.

“Too fine,” Val said. “She’s cold.”

“No, she’s hardcore,” Clint said. “She’s got ice in her veins. She does what she has to do to get through it.”

“She lost a baby. She lost a fallopian tube and she’s acting like she doesn’t even care. She’s acting like she has no emotions or warmth, like she’s missing a soul.”

“She’s gonna make a great surgeon.”

“Clint!”

“It’s true. You show no weakness, you make it to the top.”

“Some people just keep their feelings to themselves,” you commented.

Your eyes were on the door, where Steve had just walked in. If he noticed you, he didn’t make it noticeable. You watched as he walked over to the bar and sat beside Gamora. Steve ordered a drink from Happy before talking to Gamora. Too bad you were too far away to hear them.

“Y/N kissed me,” Steve told Gamora. “Peggy kissed me… My wife and my girlfriend kissed me on the same day.”

“Happy, do I look friend to you?” Gamora asked.

“Oh, you’re a tiny little kitten of joy and love,” Happy responded, only for Gamora to make a face. “What? He saved my life.”

“His first mistake.” She took a sip of her drink. “Captain McDreamy, go sit by someone who cares.”

“Oh gee,” Steve mocks hurt, but doesn’t make a move to go. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Peggy will leave. Y/N and I will start over. Everything’s gonna be fine. Right?”

“You are so damn stupid.”

~~~

“With Natasha out, I need everyone focused today,” Gamora told her group of interns as you all headed off to rounds. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be be one of those days and since we’re short an intern, you do not want to get on my bad side.”

“When are we not on her bad side?” You whispered to Clint.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied with a scoff. “Scott and I are her favorites.”

The group walked into their first patients room. The woman was sitting on the bed, enthralling a group of hospital workers with a tell.

“So we're in the middle of the Belizean jungle and this jaguarondi jumps out and bites one of the guides,” the woman says. “They all look at me. They're yelling, "You're a doctor, help him!" This is one time a PhD does no good.” The people laugh.

“Sorry,” Gamora interrupted, “did I miss the memo about social hour?” Everyone quickly began leaving besides your group.

“Tales of missionary life,” the woman explained.

“You’re a missionary?” Val asked.

“No, my parents. We traveled a lot. Well, they still do.”

“Lang, tell me about our patient,” Gamora ordered.

“Okay, um, this is Dr. Banner’s patient, Talya,” Scott explained. “She, uh, presents with multiple syncopal episodes and ventricular arrhythmias.”

“So you’ve been passing out?” Gamora asked.

“Yeah,” Talya confirmed, “and having palpitations.”

“Talya has past medical history of rheumatic heart disease with mitral valve stenosis,” Scott added.

“They had to ship me from Zambia to the States for 3 months of treatment when I was 8,” Tayla said. “Rheumatic fever almost killed me.”

“Someone please tell me what the primary causes of ventricular arrhythmias are,” Gamora said.

Before anyone in the room could responded, Natasha appeared in the doorway. She leaned up against it in her hospital gown with her IV stand.

“Valvular disease, mitral valve prolapse, stimulants, drugs, and metabolic abnormalities,” Natasha answered.

“Out!” Gamora ordered.

“I’m fine.”

“Out! And you better be in your bed by the time we round on you!”

“And when will that be?”

“In 15 seconds. 14. 13. 13. 11.”

Natasha turned around to head to her room, revealing her underwear through her nightgown. The group of interned laughed.

“Nice panties, Romanoff!” Peter laughed.

Natasha flips him the bird as she keeps waking. “In your dreams, Quill.”

They followed Natasha into the room, where she huffed as she got back into bed.

“L/N,” Gamora called.

“Right,” you responded. “Natasha Romanoff. Post-op day 3 from a unilateral salpingectomy.”

“And ready to get back to work,” Natasha said. “I'm taking solids and my pain is controlled with oral meds. I'm ready.”

“Well, it says here on your chart on you had a fever?”

“Y/N,” Nat growled.

“Natasha, did you have a fever?” Gamora questioned.

“Temp spiked to 101 last night. Big deal.”

“She worked 2 shifts last month with a 102 degree flu,” Clint added.

“Yes! Exactly, Clint. Thank you.”

“And we appreciate your dedication but you're staying in bed until it normalizes,” Gamora said. “You need to relax, shut up, and get better. You're a patient this week so you can be a doctor next week. Understand?”

“I understand,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

Rounds had finished as you were heading to your assignment when you ran into Steve near the elevators.

“Skipping rounds?” He wondered.

“No,” you replied. “They just finished.” You kept walking, when Steve took your arm to stop you.

“Y/N…”

“You’ve got a wife.”

“Yes.”

“You’re life is complicated.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t need more complicated. I have that all on my own.”

“Yes.”

“Stop saying yes.”

Steve smiled. “I’m trying not to make any sudden movements.”

“You think this is funny?”

“Peggy’s leaving. She doesn’t have any more patients. There’s no reason for her to be here.”

“No reason? Really?”

“No really whatsoever.”

Steve stepped closer, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek. You stood there, trying to not let it get to your head or, well, anywhere else. Suddenly, Peggy appeared.

“Well now, isn’t this cozy?” She said. “Can I join in or are you not into threesomes?”

“I have to go,” you said, rushing away. You didn’t go too far, interested to watch everything unfold.

“Y/N…” Steve called with a sign. He turned to Peggy. “You really are Satan. You realize that right? If Satan were to take physical form, he'd be you. Everywhere, all the time.”

“I am so not Satan,” Peggy responded.

“How come you haven't got on your broomstick and gone back to where you belong?”

“Stop being petty.”

“Stop being an adulterous bitch.”

“You know, you are going forgive me eventually, right? I mean you can't just ... I mean there was a time when you thought of me as your best friend.”

“There was a time where I thought you were the love of my life. Things change.”

Peggy sighed and pulled some papers out of her bag, handing them to Steve. Steve quickly flipped through them.

“Divorce papers,” he said.

“Your lawyer said they're ok. I haven't signed them yet. The ball's in your court. If you sign, I'll sign. I'll sign and be on the first plane out of here.”

“I'll sign them immediately. I want you out of here as soon as possible.”

“Steve, have you ever thought that, even if I am Satan and an adulterous bitch, that I still might be the love of your life?”

Not answering, Steve walks away, completely not noticing you listening in from behind a pillar.

“What are we looking at?” Tony asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“Ah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly. “Don’t do that!” You playfully hit him. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I just saw you over here and I was interested in seeing what you were observing.”

“I think… I think Peggy just handed Steve divorce papers.”

“Really? That actually surprises me. I thought she would put in a little more of a fight.”

“Yeah…”

“I guess that’s good news for you, right?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I want him to choose me because of me, not because of a divorce.”

“In my ever humble opinion, I think it will always be you. Trust me. That man is whipped.”

~~~

Natasha snuck out of her room and stole her chart. She sat in her bed as she made changes to it. Walking by, Banner looked in and noticed that no one else was in there. He quickly took the chart of Nat.

“Hey! That’s my chart,” Natasha complained.

“You're the patient. Not the doctor. Act like one,” Bruce reprimands as he studies her chart. “It's been tough finding you alone.”

“Yeah? Well…”

“How are you doing?”

“Well, you have my chart, you tell me.”

He sighed. “Natasha, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Perfectly okay.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Natasha—“

“Look. Now you know. It’s over. There’ soothing for you to deal with. So I don’t know what else there really is left to say.”

“Plenty. For starters you could've come to me—“

“And what? We could have raised it together? Or you could have held my hand when I got the abortion? I did not need any of that. I’m an intern.”

“Nat—“

“Can you just go? I need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

~~~

Gamora called you to help her with a patient. You two walked into the patient room together, revealing a younger man on the bed.

“I thought I told you I never want to see you again,” Gamora said to the patient.

“That's only cause you're too lazy to learn anything more,” the man responded.

“Dr. Y/N L/N, this is Nick Tate. He thinks he knows so much cause he was one of my first patient's as an intern.”

“I knew as much as she did. She was clueless about how to treat cystic fibrosis. A simple cholecystectomy turned into a month-long stay.”

“Better not be alleging malpractice. Guy raises about a 100 grand a year for cystic fibrosis, running triathlons. Thinks he's a big shot.”

“Wait, you run triathlons?” You questioned, confused how it could as a patient with cystic fibrosis.

“Yeah, why not?” He responded.

“It’s a pain for one,” Gamora replied, flipping through the chart. “Says here you're finally admitting to feeling a little unwell?”

“A little.”

“How little? Truth.”

“Oh, enough to keep me awake at night. Had some seizures. Um, too weak to work out.”

“Anyone been through here with your CT results?”

“No. It's probably just my pancreatitis kicking up again.”

“All right then. We'll be back. With your results and a plan.” Gamora walked to the door, with you following. She glanced back at Nick. “Huh, where do your parents think you are this time?”

He smiled. “Hmm, San Diego.”

Gamora shakes her head as you follow her the rest of the way out of the room.

“What about his parents?” You asked. “Shouldn’t he, or we, tell them?”

“No, he doesn't like to bother them until he's well or about to get discharged. He understands his reality. He just chooses to ignore it. Denial works for him, L/N.”

~~~

After Bruce had left, it only took Natasha two minutes to have found blue scrubs and change into them. She took out her IV and snuck out to the nurses station. She began looking through patient charts. The head nurse, Phil Coulson, found her like that.

“Where’s your IV?” He asked, looking at her with a disappointed father face.

“I've taken solids. I HEP-locked it,” Natasha replied.

“On whose orders?”

“Mine.”

“Okay.” Phil quickly found her chart and began reading it. “Romanoff. How about this order: best rest, out of bed to chair, bathroom privileges. Nothing about stealing charts at the nurses station.”

“Okay, you know what….” She quickly looked around to find a nearby empty wheelchair. She brought it over and sat down in it. “There, satisfied? I’m out of bed to chair.”

“I’m telling your intent on you.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.”

She wheeled off with a patient chart, heading to Tayla’s room. When she arrived, she witnessed Tayla, by herself, taking a pill.

“I saw that!” Natasha exclaimed from her wheelchair in the doorway. “I saw you take that pill.”

“Oh it's, it's my pill,” Tayla excused. “You know... the pill.”

Natasha quickly looked over the chart. “It’s not at all in your chart and you are supposed to tell us the meds you are on.”

“You’re not my doctor. You shouldn't even be here.”

“She’s right,” Val said, appearing from behind. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I saw her take unauthorized medication!” Natasha continued.

“Well, you’re unauthorized to be here.”

“I’m on the pill and I had grapefruit juice this morning,” Tayla explained. “Since the juice inhibits enzymes involved in the metabolism of OCPs, I thought I'd avoid the interaction by taking it two hours after my meal.”

“She's has a doctorate in neuropharmacology, Natasha.”

Natasha huffed, “Well, Val, I don’t see any place where oral contra—“

“Okay so now you will. Will you just go back to bed and stop bothering the other patients?”

Tayla’s heart monitor suddenly started racing, bringing the other women attentions to her. She fell to the floor, unconscious, and Val rushed to her.

“She’s in V-FIB!” Natasha said.

“Call the code,” Val ordered as she began compressions.

Natasha practically jumped out of her chair to call a code, which didn’t feel good. Val got Tayla back as the code team arrived.

“No code?” The nurse questioned.

“Not anymore,” Val answered. “Can you help get her back into bed.

“I’ll—I’ll help,” Natasha breathed got, struggling to get back to her wheelchair. “Just give me a minute.”

“Would you just go back to bed? Seriously, please just go.”

Natasha nodded as she finally made it to the wheelchair. “Just… if she’s on OCP’s, mark it down. Okay, Val?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You had gotten Nick’s x-ray’s back and were currently putting them up to view them with Gamora by your side.

“Nick’s got a mass in his midepigastrium,” you explained. “Diffused enlargement of the pancreas. That, with his hypoglycemic seizures—“

“He's going to need an exploratory laparotomy. But, despite his triathlons, his lungs still make me hesitant to cut,” Gamora added.

“What are we going to do?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Doctors,” Peggy greeted.

“Dr. Carter-Rogers.”

“How old is he?” Peggy asked, studying the x-rays.

“26.”

“Survivor, huh?”

“And them some. My patient for at least 5 years. I'm not gonna lose him now.”

“You planning a laparotomy?”

“Hmm. You know, I think I could help you with this. I've seen one case like this before in a 9 year old. We ended up having to do a total pancreotectomy.”

“I'd be honored to take any help you can give me.”

“You’re a neonatal specialist,” you said. “What, uh… this isn’t your area.” Gamora looked at you, annoyed, as she shock her head. “I’m just saying that—“

“I did 2 years genetic research in cystic fibrosis,” Peggy told you. “I've pretty much seen it all, Dr. L/N.”

“Oh.”

~~~

Walking down the hall, Steve found you. Always trying his best to make a conversation with you. This time it was easy.

“Are you sure your wife is leaving?” You questioned. “She offered to help on the case Gamora has me working on.”

“Just because she offered her services doesn't mean she intends to stay,” Steve responded.

“Well, what does it mean? Because it seems to me—“

“It means that she's a good doctor.”

“Huh… why are you suddenly defending her?”

“I’m not. Y/N, she gave me divorce papers. She filed.”

“Good for you.”

“All I have to do is sign, and I’m free… We’re free.”

“Is there anything to think about?”

“No,” he shook his head, “of course not. I have to read through them, sign, then Peggy’s on the next plane out of here.” He grabbed your hands. “This is going to work.”

~~~

After the conversation he had with you, Steve immediately went searching for Gamora.

“Of all the fine doctors in the city, you accept a consult from Peggy Carter,” Steve said, angrily.

“Carter-Rogers, isn’t it?” Gamora retorted.

“The point is she should be on her way home. Are you purposefully trying to drive me crazy?”

“You think this has something to do with you?” Gamora’s voice was loud and upset. “You think I’m even thinking about you and your romantic problems? I’m trying to help a patient very near and dear to my heart. And if consulting with your wife—your ex—your mistress, what ever it is that she becomes! If that’s the thing I have to do to save my patient, them I’m damn well gonna do it.”

“I understand… and I totally deserve the yelling. It’s just that—“

“Just, you look! You have put yourself between two very fine women and you looking for an easy way out and you wanna use me, and the hospital and... somebody to make the decision for you, and it's not gonna happen!”

“Could I just… could I just say a couple of things?”

“No.” Gamora stormed off.

~~~

You found Natasha sitting in her bed, in her room. Thankfully. Though she was looking through another patient’s chart. You pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down in it with a sigh.

“What’s your problem?” Natasha asked.

“Peggy gave Steve divorce papers, which is good. I mean she’s still here, being Peggy, but it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

“That’s odd.”

“It’s odd I’m not jealous?”

“No, you have every right to be jealous. It's your territory and she's peeing all over it.” Natasha went back to focusing on the chart in her hands. “What’s odd is Banner’s patient.”

“Tayla?”

“Yeah. She’s been in 4 other hospitals this year. You know something’s not right.”

“You seem awfully interested in Banner’s patient.”

“This has nothing to do with Bruce.”

“Natasha, you lost a fallopian tube, a baby and a boyfriend all in one day. You have the right to be upset.”

“And you’re losing Captain McDreamy to his perfect wife. You have the right to be jealous.”

“I did not lose Captain McDreamy. Divorce papers, remember? And I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not upset. I really need to get out of here.”

“You’re on bedrest, remember?”

“Okay, if the situation was reversed, would you wanna spend time with your mother in a confined room with one window?”

“No. I guess not. But still. You need to stay put.”

Before Natasha could respond, your pager beeped. You looked down at it and groaned.

“I got to go,” you muttered, leaving.

“Good luck!”

~~~

Peggy and Gamora met you in Nick’s room. There you began explaining the surgery to him.

“We won't know for sure until we go in there, but it looks like that I'm going to have to take out your pancreas and re-route your intestines,” Peggy said.

Nick looked at Gamora. “Did you tell her that my lungs don't do well with anesthesia?”

“Don’t I always have your back?” Gamora retorted.

“Your kidney function is decreasing rapidly and I'm afraid you're gonna go into multi-system organ failure if we don't operate,” Peggy continued.

“If I say no?” Nick wondered.

“There’s no guarantees, Nick. You know that,” Gamora answered. “It's gonna be a long, hard surgery and put a lot of stress on your body.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “but I’m me.”

She smiled back. “But you’re you.”

“So if we don’t operate, I die. And if… we do operate, I may die.”

“Basically, yes,” Peggy responded.

“Well, I like those odds. And 26 years with this disease is awesome. And that's the reality. So if I get lucky ... great. And if I don’t…” Nick grabbed Gamora’s hand, “it’s been sweet.”

“It’s gonna stay sweet,” she replied.

~~~

Natasha was laying on her bed with her harm over her eyes when Clint walked into the room. Tayla’s chart was laid out on top of her.

“Why do you have that?” He asked.

“I’m working,” Nat answered. “Trying to figure out what’s going on with the crazy woman on four.”

“You are the crazy woman on four. Though, I have to say, you have a better patina than me and you don’t even really have a patient.” Clint plopped down in the chair next to her bed. “Y/N’s got a CF case. Peter has a gunshot wound. Val’s got the mystery arrhythmias. I have babysitting a crazy old lady! I’d rather do scut with Scott than this! I’m a surgeon. A cutter. I don’t want to be a fake surgeon! I want to be a real one!”

“She’s faking it,” Nat repeated to herself. She quickly got off the bed. “The missionary. Talya… Thank you!”

She patted Clint’s head as she walked by. Natasha headed straight for the nurses station, where she saw Val looking around for something.

“Val!” Natasha called. “How how Talya’s studies been?”

“Hey!” Val responded, not pleasantly as she took the chart from Nat. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that!”

“Negative, right?”

“Oh! The echo tests showed mild mitral stenosis, the tilt test was negative. We're doing EP studies.”

“I can tell you what's wrong with her without sticking electrodes in her heart.”

“Really. Just by the chart?”

“No, from the pill she took.”

“They were contraceptives, Natasha! Why are you so obsessed with this? Just go back to bed!”

“I think she’s doing this to herself.”

“You think she's inducing ventricular arrhythmias? She'd have to be crazy to do—“

“No, no, no. She'd have to have Munchausen’s.”

“Okay wait. You think she's secretly ingesting something to produce real symptoms? Seriously?”

“Yes. Run it by Banner and tell me what he thinks.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself. He is standing right behind you.” Val made eye contact with the man. “Dr. Banner.”

Then Val left. Leaving Natasha will Bruce. She sighed as Bruce guided her into the small office nearby before listening to her.

“I mean, she obviously loves the patient role. She practically lives in hospitals. And... and, and we're like an imaginary family to her because her really family blows her off to go take care of other people.... And, and I saw her take something.”

“It's not enough,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “We have to rule out everything else. Everything physical.”

“She even lied about her job. She's a pharmacy tech, not a PhD.”

“So she's a liar. I've been lied to before.”

“Hey, we're not talking about us here.”

“Maybe we should be.”

“I didn’t lie!”

“You withheld the truth from me. How was00”

“Okay, you know what? I distinctly remember you breaking things off with me. And you didn't seem so upset about it. And this?” She motioned between herself and Bruce. “This is, this is not a relationship. This is not real.”

“Natasha…”

“Okay, and, and so what's with the big display of fake hurt and drama?” She began walking out of the room.

“Natasha!”

“I’m supposed to be in bed.”

~~~

You absolutely did not want to be in surgery with Peggy. Yet there you were.

“I need more traction,” Peggy stated. “Dr. Y/N?” You quickly did as you were told.

“Here,” Gamora called, “give me some suction there.” So you did. “Now L/N, retract the duodenum. Good. How’s he doing Vis?”

Vis was keeping watch over Nick’s vitals and such. “Harder to ventilate and no urine output since we started,” Vis informed.

Peggy shook her head, “he’s shutting down.”

“Did you increase his peak pressures?” Gamora asked.

“Any higher, I blow his lungs,” Vis responded before the monitor beeped. “Bradycardia. Pushing 1 of atropine.”

“Try ventilating him manually,” Peggy ordered, “see if he starts coming back up.” Vis began pushing on a bag.

“Did we miss any bleeders?” Gamora wondered.

“The surgical field is clear.”

The monitor began beeping faster. “Agonal rhythm,” you said.

“Any pulse with that?” Gamora asked.

“No carotid,” Vis answered.

“Okay, starting CPR.” Gamora handed over her tools and begun CPR. “Push one of EPI.”

“No extraordinary measures, Gamora,” Peggy warned. “He’s DNR.”

“No this is just good medicine.” Sh continued CPR, almost frantically. “Come on! Come on! Don’t give up. Come on.”

“You’re getting tired,” you noted. “Let me take over, Dr. Gamora.” She nodded, letting you quickly switch her places.

“Gamora, his intestines are cyanotic,” Peggy stated. “There’s no blood circulating.”

“It’s been shunted to his brain where he needs it,” Gamora responded as she studied your CPR form. “You call those compressions.” She shoved you to the side and took over CPR. You and Peggy made eye contact, worried. “Fight it. Come on.” Peggy looked around, shaking her head, and everyone stopped what they were doing. All but Gamora. “Why isn’t anyone moving? Whose recording?”

“It's been ten minutes since we've had a perfusing rhythm.” Peggy goes to stop Gamora but is shrugged off. The monitor flat lines. “It’s your call, Gamora.”

Taking a shaky inhale, Gamora stopped. She pulled off her mask as the monitor continues to flat line. “Asystole.” She looked up at the clock. “Time of death: 19:35.”

Gamora rushed out of the OR, trying not to cry. She went straight to the sinks and began cleaning her hands furiously. She paused when she noticed people covering up Nick’s body. Peggy walked in and started washing her hands as well, with you following. You both eyed Gamora a few times, worried. Soon, she left.

Peggy sighed. “It’s hard to accept the end when you’re too close.” She looked down as she slipped her wedding ring back onto her finger. She noticed you watching. “Look, I don't want someone who doesn't want me, Y/N. But if there's the slightest chance that he does, I'm not leaving New York.”

~~~

Val walked into Natasha’s room, not excited for the news she was about to tell her.

“Well?” Natasha asked.

“You were right,” Val sighed. “Talya definitely suffers from Munchausen’s.”

“See I was right…. I was right…” She closed her eyes. “I was right…” Nat began to cry. “I was right. I was… I was right. Oh… I’m—I’m—“ She let out a sob. “I’m right. I’m—I’m right.”

Val looked out of the room to see Clint walking by. “Clint! Page Y/N!”

Clint hurried in. “Why? What—what’s happening? What did you do to her?”

“She just started crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“I’ll get one of the nurses to page, Y/N.” Clint rushed out.

“Natasha,” Val tried, slowly coming closer. “Natasha, calm down.”

“The nurses paged her!” Clint came rushing back in.

“It’s okay, Nat.” Val went in for a hug, only for Nat to shrink away and cry harder. “Okay, okay. I won’t hug you.”

“What’s going on?” You came running in, panicked.

“I can’t stop!” Nat cried. “I can’t—-I can’t stop…”

“Crying,” Val finished for her. “She can’t stop crying.”

“I can’t see that!” You replied. “What did you guys do to her?”

“Nothing!”

“She’s going to dehydrate,” Clint said. “Nat, do you want some water?”

Nat shook her head, “no, no…” You tried to go in for a hug, only to be pulled away.

“NO!” Clint and Val exclaimed.

“I already tried that,” Val said. “It just made it worse.” Clint tentatively handed Nat a tissue.

“Natasha,” you tried again.

“Make—make it stop,” Natasha sobbed. “Make it stop… Somebody sedate me!”

“What’s going on in here?” Bruce asked, walking in. He was dressed like he was about to leave. There was clear concern etched on his face.

“We can’t get her to stop crying,” you replied.

“Y/N, get everyone else out of here.” Bruce was taking off his jacket. “Watch the door.”

You nodded, quickly ushering Clint and Val out. They voiced protests, but willing left. You shut the door behind you and watched. Peeking through the window, you watched as Bruce got in the bed beside Nat. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Natasha willingly curled into him, welcoming his comfort. You sighed and turned away, leaning against the door to keep watch. Steve noticed you and came up.

“Hey,” he smiled.”

“Hey.”

“When are you off?”

“Uh,” you glanced at your watch, “in about an hour. Why?”

“Meet me at Happy’s when you get off.” He started walking backwards, sly smirk on his lips. “Don’t be late.”

~~~

Steve and you arrived at Happy’s bar at the same time. He gave you a smile as he held the door open for you. You walked over to an empty table, Steve close behind.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said.

“Me too,” Steve replied. He set it briefcase on his chair. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Turning around, Steve knocked his briefcase onto the ground. A stack of papers slipped out.

“I’ve got it,” Steve quickly said, bending down.

“I’ll get it,” you said, picking up the papers.

You glance at the papers as you stand back up. There his divorce papers, that he has yet to sign.

next chapter >

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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

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#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

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isimp4hawkz · 3 years

Text

The Apothecary

(Hawks x Reader)

100% inspired from this beautiful artwork I found on pinterest ^^

This is my first time publishing any of my fics. I hope it’s enjoyable.

*Skimmed for any mistakes but I may have missed a few*

Words: 2.5k

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"Tell me something birdbrain. Did you come here in search of a remedy or did you come here to snuggle with my owls?" You scold aloud, brow lifted at the scene before you. It temporarily drew your attention away from the herbs you were blending for the person in question. If he really even needed them that is.

The man was bent over, hovering over the counter and barely burying his entire face into the soft plumage of Gamma's snowy collar, rubbing his nose into its depths, small chuckles resounding from him in his own apparent delight. Simultaneously, Thaddeus perched himself daintily onto the golden locks of his hair, managing to keep himself in place as the man's head moved about beneath him.

What shocked you is that they seemed to be genuinely enjoying his company, whereas they hardly acknowledge your existence throughout the day. It was much unlike how they'd usually act whenever someone walked into the shop. As soon as they heard that little bell chime from the entrance, both birds would take off towards their high perches on opposite ends of the room, making it in their best interest to avoid anyone new.

You didn't mind, nor question their habit. They only preferred your lone company either way, though they'd hardly show it. Much like you'd rather be with their company rather than some other person.

On that slow, peaceful evening, you'd discovered that maybe you don't know your beloved companions as well as you thought. For some reason, Hawks was some sort of an exception to them. Much more than an exception, at that.

For crying out loud, he was snuggling into Gamma and cuddling her as if she were a puppy! And she was letting him.

And Thaddeus. Thaddeus' behavior baffled you on an entirely different level. That was a bird who never permitted you any petting privileges, any time you'd insinuate a head rub, he'd screech at you and fan his wings. Very territorial, he was. At least you thought he was.

Yet here he was, God damn nesting in the hair of a complete stranger as if he'd known the man for years. As if you weren't the one who took him in when he was but a weak, fraile hatchling on the brink of death.

"I think your owls like me." Hawks chuckled, his huge crimson wings ruffling giddily when Gamma had begun to coo at his nuzzles, adoringly.

Jealousy. Blatant jealousy is what you felt. You weren't even going to attempt to hide it. You've tried endless times to get those birds to see you as their loving caretaker, showering them with love and treats and sating their every need, but to no avail. If anything, you think they see you the way a caged tiger would view its neglectful keeper, just a source of food.

You huff out a breath, subconsciously putting in more effort to mash the herbs together with the mortar and pestle than you wished.

Hawks noticed your subtle change in behavior. The way you slammed a small jar onto the counter, flicked off the cap, and aggressively shook out whatever was inside onto the cutting board. Or maybe it was the way you were mashing those herbs with a force that made him wonder if they'd somehow wronged you.

Of course; being him, he'd jumped to a brash conclusion. "Oh? Are you jelly that I'm giving the birds more attention than you?"

You stop your relentless mashing of compounds, staring ahead blankly for a moment before shaking your head. "Don't be ridiculous, I-"

"Awoh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, I completely understand."

"I'm jealous of you, actually."

Hawks blinked in confusion, lifting his head away from the owl's downy feathers and looking over at you.

"Seems like they fancy you more than they could ever me." A half-hearted smile tugged at your lips, the morose tone in your voice was inevitable.

Gamma's wide, intelligent eyes shifted to stare at you. It was like she understood every word you said. Her wings lifted, and with a few swift flaps, she was in the air. You flinched when she landed gracefully into your hair, her sharp talons clenching your head as gently as she could.

Hawks chuckled at how frozen you were in that moment, bringing up a hand to scratch Thaddeus on the chin as he stared. He marveled at the way your cheeks faintly turned a darker shade when Gamma had cooed. She'd began to pick at your head softly in a grooming mannerism.

Thaddeus shifted in Hawks' hair, suddenly growing restless.

"Wanna get closer?" Hawks asked him aloud, rhetorically, obliging to the small hoot he received in response and carefully sauntering over to you, wary of the unstable balance Thaddeus had while being on his head.

By the time he got close, you'd managed to settle Gamma down onto your outstretched bicep, but the stubborn owl only flapped back onto your head. The look on your face almost made Hawks laugh out loud, you were distraught. Torn between salvaging the rare chance at bonding with your companion, and continuing the preparation of a remedy for a paying customer.

He knew how much you cared for those birds, so much that he was willing to let you relish in the moment completely.

The smile on his face was somewhat solemn. "Don't fret witchy. I'm sure I can find some other witch who can cook up what I need."

Your brow ticked at the way he addressed you. "Excuse you. I am not a witch. I'm an Apothecary."

Hawks blinked. "Same difference."

You ignored that. "And even if you could somehow find another suitable Apothecary in the general area, I've been told by several patrons that I am the best of the best." You stated proudly, chin held up high in accordance. "The odds of finding someone more skilled than I are low to say the least."

He always enjoyed how confident you were in your craft. That confidence stemmed from true experience and skill, mastery even. You were right for claiming your profession to be deemed that high of a level, there hasn't been a single time in the past where your restoratives had let him down, no matter what their purpose served. He's glad that your clientele have spread the word of your little place, though they're restricted to hushed exchanges of whispers and secret notes passed in inconspicuous areas, out of the sight of any authorities.

The way you obtained some of your ingredients could be considered illegal if thorough investigation was to prosper, but luckily for you, that was yet to happen. No one was dubious of the little flower shop secluded between two towering office buildings at the farthest corner of the longest street in Kyushu. Hawks wouldn't dare run his mouth about its true nature to anyone, he would much rather heal his battle wounds naturally with one of your blends rather than the harsh steroids they'd stick into his body back at the commission.

"Can't deny that fact." Hawks chuckled, looking at you with apparent appreciation gleaming through his hooded eyes. "You've helped me through some tough calls, I don't think I-" He cut himself off in realization of something.

"I...I don't think I've ever thanked you."

You were quick to bring up the fact that he in fact spoiled you. Tipping you thousands over whatever price you'd ask for, as if money was nothing but a nuisance to him and he needed to get rid of as much of it as possible, it had you wondering if he would flaunt it around so carelessly wherever.

"That's different. Of course I'm gonna pay you in exchange for your meds, I'm not some shitbag. But I've never thanked you before."

Now that you think about it, it's true. The majority of times times he's come here, it's been in an urgent burst through the door, with little time on his hands to so much as greet you. You really can't recall a single time where he's thanked you, since he's usually in such a rush. Here one second, gone the next. His reputation stands firm.

Rarely have there ever been situations like this, where he's able to hang around the shop and wait patiently for you to get his order ready firsthand. You'd looked over your shoulder at him while he was appeasing the owls earlier. He had looked so calm, so sweet and tender in that moment, totally relaxed. It warmed your heart to see him like that.

His concern brought a smile to your face, how adorable to think that it would trouble him this much. "Hawks, trust me, you're fine. I know you're thankful. The proof is in the way that you pay literally five times as much as I could ever ask you for—more than that at times!"

Yup. That sounds like something he'd do, even he'll admit it. He distinctly recalls throwing a fat stack of cash at you in several of his hurried instances, not even bothering to ask for the price, or check how much was in the stack. He tilted his head aside and stuck out his lower lip in consideration of his own antics.

But that doesn't stop him from genuinely thinking that you deserve way more than what you make. You're taking one hell of a risk every time you sell another product to some shady person. He thinks you deserve to be appreciated more for that fact alone.

"Well, for what it's worth, thank you Y/n. Really, I mean it. What you do means a lot to me, more than I can put into words." He held your gaze with an adoration in his eyes that you didn't quite understand.

You've never seen seriousness cross that man's expression as well as it did right then.

He's perpetually cheerful and carefree, flirty more oftentimes than he should be. It surprised you seeing him so lacking in that notorious, glowing charisma. Maybe you'd go as far to say that in that moment, it looked like true joy was something he'd never experienced before. You couldn't even form words, rendered a gaping fish.

And maybe you would've actually taken his word for it, if it wasn't for you being reminded of the fact that the two of you had two big ass birds on your heads when Gamma and Thaddeus unexpectedly hooted in unison.

You and Hawks simultaneously broke eye contact to glance up at each other's birds, locking eyes with one another again.

It went silent for a few seconds.

Hawks' hard expression wavered hesitantly, his lip twitching in a futile attempt to remain serious. You then snorted quietly, biting your lip, and that's all it took for the two of you to burst out into a laughing fit that made you to bend over to clutch your sides, causing Gamma to flee from your head hastily and settle on her perch, Thaddeus following suit towards his respective stand when Hawks stumbled backwards a bit.

They'd managed to both ruin the moment and save it all the same, made it into something you didn't quite know you needed until it happened. A good laugh, one that had your face heating up and your cheeks beginning to hurt as the two of you only grew breathless with glee, struggling to keep your balance as you pressed your weight onto nearby objects to avoid toppling over.

The old Grandfather clock at the back of the shop had begun to chime, signaling the passing of another hour.

The sound caused Hawks to gradually come back down from his laugh-high. He submitted to that professional state of mind that subconsciously clawed at his back at times like these, once he was reminded of where he was supposed to be.

It was like someone snapped their fingers and all happiness was wiped from his face. Other than the faint pink still dusting his cheeks, it looked like the laugh that the two of you shared had never transpired.

You didn't even need to hear him say it. After you'd wiped a tear of joy from your eyes and regained your breath, you'd whirled around, right back to where you'd left off before.

A strange atmosphere settled into the shop. It grew peacefully silent, the rays of the setting sun stretched generously into the stop, accentuating gliding specs of dust in their path and lighting the room in a warm honey glow.

Hawks rolled his shoulders, wings reaching out to their maximum length in a comfortable stretch, as you bagged his things.

He'd requested a strong set of numbing-based remedies and other blends crammed with sedatives. It reminded you of the prep for some sort of illegal surgery, but you weren't one to meddle in the business of your customers.

You'd turned to hand him his bag, but were surprised when there was no sight of the man where he'd previously been.

It took a few glances around the room, you almost missed him at first, but there he was, standing before the display window, gazing distantly at the outside world under the evening glow.

Sometimes you'd catch a deep-rooted hardship in his eyes that was nearly impossible to detect. A flicker of something more, something lost long ago that he longs to have again. At times it looked like he was carrying the weight of the world in his wings and nobody knew it.

Or maybe your seclusion in your craft has run you crazy and you're just imagining it all. That's way more believable, anyway.

You'd walked up to his side, eyes trained on the lively cityscape. The city never slept, always bustling with some sort of commotion, but it was oddly calm on that evening. Nothing but nature in all its shapes and forms, like the gentle autumn breeze that shook the trees, like the songbirds softly jittering in a musical dialect only they understood, plus the ocasional car that would stroll by barely exceeding fifteen miles per hour.

Your gaze drifted back on Hawks, who has yet to notice your presence beside him.

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that man’s mind, what challenges the relentless day brings him, and how he manages to come out smiling in the end.

#bnha hawks #hawks #anime #built different #keigo takami #my hero academia #oneshot #fanfic #apothecary #keigo #fanfiction #idk what else to tag #hawks x reader #y/n apothecary #the apothecary

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

Baking

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Summary: Sam comes home from a mission and needs a remedy

Warnings: None

Word count: 1232

A/N: So, a few days ago, @bibbidibobbidibucky posted this and that got my muse out of her hiding place so here’s “Baking”!

You heard the door to your apartment on one of the residential floors of the tower open and a soft thud of something being set down in the small hallway.

“I’m in the living room, love!” You called out and a second later, Sam poked his head in the door.

His brows were drawn together and even from the couch and with only the slightest part of Sam looking into the room, you could see the tenseness in his neck and shoulders. Now, you were both glad you hadn’t been called on that mission and, well guilty wasn’t the right word but it was close, because maybe if you had been there, something would have gone differently and the mission would have gone a little bit better.

“Could we bake something?” Sam asked in his normal voice, but you knew him better.

That was his code for “This was a shitty day but I need to do something but I also need to calm down but I can’t just sit somewhere.”

“Of course. We’ll have the whole kitchen to ourselves and in the morning everyone’s gonna wake up to sweets.”

Yes, it was 1 am. Yes, you had stayed up all night to wait for him. But it didn’t matter, of course, it didn’t matter. He’d do the same for you.

---

Down in the kitchen, the incredibly big kitchen with every appliance you could wish for. Sam wordlessly got out the basic ingredients. Sugar. Flour. Baking soda. Butter. Salt. Vanillin sugar. Each ingredient had its place on the left side of the kitchen island. In the middle were the blender, all kinds of spatulas and other utensils. On the right were the different cake pans.

“What do you wanna make? Any preferences?” You asked.

“No, you choose.”

“Okay.”

Turning back to the cupboards, you got almost everything out you could get your hands on. Cream cheese. Chocolate. Nuts. Peanut butter. Coffee powder.

“Coffee powder?” Sam looked at the additional things in front of the basics.

“Yeah. You trust me?”

“Always.”

You two were a well-oiled baking machine by now. Sam prepared the ingredients. Chopping up nuts, breaking chocolate into pieces to put into a double boiler with butter, folding in the different ingredients in the bowls. You did everything that involved machines and utensils. Sam spread out the different kinds of batter in the different forms.

Tonight, the cheesecake batter came first. Then batter for the cappuccino nut cake. The brownie batter was the last.

As the tins were in the ovens, you sat Sam down at the kitchen island.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Several seconds passed.

“Yes.”

Sam took a deep breath and finally looked at you.

“I couldn’t protect him. I feel like I failed.”

“You couldn’t protect who?”

“The guy we were supposed to get out there.”

“But I didn’t hear anything about someone not making it. The med bay was on standby the whole time and even now, there’s no one there being treated because of something belatedly happening” You wondered.

“I was supposed to get to him when the way was cleared and then get him out to the drop off point. On the way out, I had to start flying, because part of the structure started to collapse and just as I was taking off with him in my arms, he got shot in the leg.”

“But you got him out.”

“Y/N, he got shot on my watch. I couldn’t even protect him with my wings! Not even with the new, bigger ones!”

You took Sam’s face between your hands to force him to look at you.

“Sam. Look at my face.” He did as you asked. “Can I walk you through what I just gathered from you telling me this?”

He nodded.

“You and the others had a mission to get a guy out of where he was held and to drop him off. The others cleared the way and you were tasked with actually getting the guy. On the way out, you needed to fly out, because walking wasn’t an option anymore. You and the guy got out. You’re unharmed and he got shot in the leg. Right so far?”

Sam nodded again.

“Could you have taken off safely or at all with just one of your wings spread all the way and the other spread but more or less hanging vertically?”

“No.”

“So, you did the one thing you could to get both of you out of there safely. You said it yourself, walking wasn’t an option anymore.”

“But if I had bigger wings-“ He started.

You stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“So? What would happen then? You’d give over the mantle of The Falcon and become what? The Angel? Or what- what’s this winged horse called? Sleipnir?”

“Sleipnir has eight legs. No wings in sight. You mean the Pegasus.”

“Right. That.”

“But, bigger wings mean more protection.”

“And if something would happen then?”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen.”

“Sam. You and I both know you cannot guarantee nothing ever happening on any mission ever.”

“But-“

“Look, it’s admirable of you that you wanna help everyone and don’t wanna see anyone hurt unless there’s a bigger cause, but you have to look after yourself, too.”

“I do!”

“I mean, really look after yourself. Giving advice to veterans is awesome and so you know what advice to give. Can you try to do that for me?”

Sam looked down at the kitchen island and was silent for a long time. The timers on the ovens dinged before he looked up at you.

“Yes. I can.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

You didn’t remember who, but someone had bullied Tony into buying one of those simple coffee machines to stand right next to the fancy one. One that just brewed the coffee and nothing more, just black coffee and now you brewed the coffee needed for one of the cakes.

You took the tins out to cool down so you could put the peanut butter cream on the brownies, the mascarpone coffee cream on the nut cake and the liquid chocolate on the cheesecake and then put everything in the fridge.

“All done. Wanna go back to bed?” You asked.

“Yeah. Thank you for this” There was Sam’s smile again.

When you laid in bed, and you were close to falling asleep, Sam turned to you.

“Did we forget something? I feel like we forgot something.”

“No, we put all the stuff in the fridge, we cleaned everything up, no flour’s coating the kitchen…”

“Remember the flour accident?”

“How could I not? Better that than some accident with eggs…” You laughed.

---

Waking up more or less early the next morning was surprisingly easy and you both ambled down to get your fill of coffee and maybe something to eat. The kitchen was filled with people. Half of them were awake and the other half just slouched against the countertops with coffee in their hands.

“Does it smell like cheesecake to anyone else? Or brownies?” Steve yawned. “And-“

“Don’t say coffee” Wanda mumbled sleepily.

You and Sam looked at each other from the corners of your eyes.

“Who is always putting the coffee grounds in the sink?” Now, Tony was fully awake.

“I told you we forgot something” Sam mumbled to you.

“Still better than exploding flour” You said dryly.

#my things #my writing #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson

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bagog · 3 years

Text

What On Earth Has Happened

Hey, no story here, no experiments. Just a play by play of an awful year in my life. Please don't reblog. Trying to just get it down in one place for people who care about me. Long, sob-story beneath the cut.

Air - 'Things are looking up!' I had started to drift a bit from tumblr. The porno purge came and a lot of my friends trickled off the platform after that. I went back to school, attempting to score myself a Masters degree in something that would pay enough to get me out of Student Debt. I was doing great, picking things up fast. I got a new job at a company doing pretty menial work, but the people I worked with were great conversationalists. The work didn't involve dealing with customers at all, paid well, and was small and accomplishable tasks. Essentially I was being prepped to take a better position at the place once I had my Masters. Covid happened, then. Earth - 'The Whole World Sucks Right Now' My company was "essential," so I continued going to work, now on weird schedules. The company I worked for was profiting off Covid, all the while making fun of it as an overblown conspiracy, even as their own epidemiologist urged them to take better precautions. Work became hard to swallow. Water - 'When your lowest place could be lower' The apartment I shared with my boyfriend flooded. The lowest place in any sewage system is typically the bathtub, such that if it backs up, it does so into that tub. Our lowest point is the toilet. So the apartment flooded. Three times. Roots growing through the sewage outflow meant that, often, you needed to wait a solid hour between toilet flushes, or else the toilet would back up with such gusto the sewage would slosh down the hallway and into the living room. We mopped many times. The problem was finally fixed 8 months later, necessitating our having to camp because our house had no water. Fire - 'To destroy all you've done' One afternoon, I smelled burning. Going to our bedroom, I found our shelf a column of flame. I could barely breathe for all the smoke, but I managed to grab a blanket and beat the fire out. On the other side of the room, the pages of the books upon another shelf had begun to crisp from the heat, the blinds on all the windows were warped. The whole apartment had been about to go up. I'm kinda scared of fire now. Heart - 'When moving is too much to ask' Personal health sorta hit a new low. Migraines kept me out of work for two full weeks. I have seasonal foot pain, I always assumed from hiking for a living in my 20s. Turns out it was gout, all the while. Gout is exceptionally painful: it's like a messy pile of razor blades in the ball of your foot every time you step down. At work, I could barely stand. Walking from my car to the door became something I needed to psyche myself up for. Not a lot can stop a gout flare-up once it's in full swing, so I just had to wait it out. For a month. Two. Some of the worst sustained pain I've been in. Little did I know that, in January, come the kidney stones. Kidney stones feel awful. Feel like total shit. Gout and kidney stones are comorbid--brought about as a result of the meds I take to help me focus. So any day I don't drink enough water is a day when my kidneys or my foot just starts aching. But going back to September of 2020... Homophobia - 'goddammit' Finally things are looking better. I'm limping quickly again. Then I am called into the HR office. I am told that two sexual harassment charges have been brought against me. I'm told that one individual has alleged that I, while in the restroom, used a reflective toilet brush to attempt to peep him under a stall wall. I did not do this. I do not understand--reflective toilet brush?? wtf. The second allegation: I just straight up looked over a stall at a guy. I didn't do this either. I'm asked to defend myself, I ask who or date or time of day. I am given nothing. I remark that I don't think I'm tall enough to see over the stall, and I do not understand about the toilet brush. Of the ten minutes of the meeting, I spend 8 of them trying to get my head around how a claim about a reflective toilet brush has me here. "Would you like us to go now to see if you're tall enough to see over the stall? If that would help your defense?" says the HR head. "Yes, I

would," says I. We did not go. I am told that the accusers have no reason to be collaborating, or to even know each other made a claim. This is bullshit, because it was a company of 80 people, and only a quarter of those employees used the restroom where my alleged harassment was to have taken place. Before I am dismissed from work for the day to go home and wait to find out if I'll be fired or not, I march into the HR office once more and say "I hope none of this is happening because I'm gay." The HR head looks positively offended. I got fired cuz I'm gay. Next day I got a call. They'd come to the "objective truth" (that phrase is burned in my mind), and were terminating me. Apparently they discounted the toilet brush rumor, after all. But they really honestly believed I looked over the stall at a dude. Nightmare - 'No Fear One Fear' Let me tell you something: this is a nightmare. This is my honest-to-god nightmare. I've been terrified of getting accused of something in a bathroom since I was 11 years old. I am incredibly self-conscious and careful in public restrooms. To be fired? From a place full of people I like? And all of them will think I'm a pervert. My boyfriend worked at the same place. He would now have to work there every day dealing with people looking at him and wondering what he must think of his boyfriend. That sent me on a spiral. I'm still out of work, almost a year later. It would have been the worst mental health crisis of my life if it wasn't for my boyfriend, my support network, and the meds I've finally been able to get ahold of. Oh, also. My two accusers? Were roommates. HR knew they were roommates. They basically collaborated on a story to get me fired. The story circulating around the place (I still have acquaintances I talk to working there) has dropped the reflective toilet brush entirely. I guess they thought it was too unbelievable. So anyway, the people who accused me are now telling a different set of events than what I was told. Absolute horse shit. Tried to go to my city's human right's council to see if my situation warranted further attention. I gave my side of the story--including tales of the straight manager who had had enough harassment charges brought against him that he was no longer allowed to meet female staff--which indicated I'd been treated differently and wrongly. My old job made an impassioned argument that the committee violated their First Amendment rights(?) ('Freedom of speech' is the biggie with the First Amendment, for people who cba re:USA). I won the vote!! But one member of the committee was missing. So there weren't enough people for the vote to pass. Dismissed. We took it to the EEOC to make an official federal complaint. Just a week ago, an agent of the US Government patiently explained to us that these laws are literally designed to fuck over the worker and protect the employer unless they are epically stupid, and unfortunately, mine had not been epically stupid. So there's nowhere to go, no recourse to be had. It's over, I guess. Family - 'How to sum it up quickly...' My family hit me with the old soft-disown. No more calls, no more communication. They think they are loving me by not having contact with me. By depriving me of my family, they hope it will make me realize that the path I'm on is destructive, and I'll return to them living an upright life. No. I'm living an upright life, now. And if my family can choose to throw me away, then they are not a family I choose. Then my dad hit me back two months later, absolutely gaslighting me and pretending we never had the disown conversation at all. Reality - 'I don't know who I am anymore' I have trouble knowing what's real, anymore. Every message my dad sends on the surface seems loving and supportive and plaintive. I feel I must be the one in the wrong. I got fired for bullshit reasons. It doesn't feel real. "My family can't possibly have ceased contact with me: that's one of those things I know can never happen!!" But that did happen. So what else that feels real, actually isn't? I do

mean to be so dramatic, and I won't apologize for it. But I truly do feel like my mind has been pretty thoroughly unseated by the last year. Whoever I am, I'm becoming someone different. More distilled, at very least. I've discovered a lot of things about myself: trauma that has likely led to a lot of my mental health problems. Discovered I actually have RAGING ADHD, and it has robber me of a lot of things I wanted to do, and now is sort of consuming me completely. I'm looking for help. Trying to get better. Here's hoping. Every bold point above could be its own book, for all my thoughts about them. But enough of that for now. Love you. Thanks for reading.

#personal #depressed writing #life update #2020 sucked

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that-little-zebunny · 3 years

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Skin to Skin (First Date)

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warning: Angst, little Gorey-ish details, Fluff

WC: 2,151

Summary: You're new to the team and end up messing it up with the God of mischief on your first day in. Knowing his reputation you're up for a fun time in the compound.

Note: First of all thank you so much guys for the warm acceptance you gave on our 1st part T....T y'all made my heart so so happy. I hope you'll enjoy this part and I'd love to know how you think. Its a bit long so yay enjoy.

2nd day of our wonderful HBC's Week of Love for the lovely @the-th-horniest-book-club 🥰

You know what's the fun part of fighting the bad? It's that it doesn't choose a great time. It pops up as randomly as it can. So here you are on your second day trying to go around and meet people, when you got a message to suit up.

Small details are that you and your team are going to keep an eye on one of hydras abandoned bases because Friday had detected some activity there.

What you didn't know is the team you speak of is just you, the Falcon, Natasha and Loki. Yup, how fun will it be? You and the person that doesn't like you in one deadly work. You won't be surprised if somehow between the fighting you'll be stabbed by him. You shook your head to remove the thoughts running in it. You really should stop watching suspense shows. You sighed.

After almost three hours in the air you all finally made it in the location. You scratched your head when you saw that the area is surrounded by a lot of trees.

"Looks like we're up for a fun hide and seek game if there's really people here now." Nat said as she fixed all the weapons secured on her belt. Sam agreed. He activated three of his cute little drones to help out with securing the area for treats.

"We should go. All these small talks will not vanish our enemies." Loki said walking past the three of you. You pouted.

"I think that's mostly because of me. Sorry guys." You said as you finished fixing your knives on your belt and grabbing your metal staff. It's your main weapon because it keeps you from getting near anyone when it's not needed.

"No worries cookies, he's like that to everyone. He didn't really have a choice in being here. He's banished here to help." Sam said using the silly nickname they all choose to give you after you delivered tons of cookies to them.

You look at Loki's retreating back sadly.

You're able to get inside the rusty building without encountering anyone.

"This is a bit creepy. How did Friday detect anything here? There's no one in about 10 kilometers." Sam said as he checked the tech in his arm.

"Maybe it's a ghost?" You joked which earned you a strange look from them. "What? I watch movies." You rolled your eyes at them and continued going to another part of the building to check. It looks like you're in a laboratory slash surgery room. That gave you chills. You tried to not imagine how many bodies were cut and gutted in here.

"You have a very unique mind." Someone said which made you squeak. You turned around swinging your staff towards the voice but was halted by a sting hand. Loki held the end of your staff smirking at you.

"Crap…" you whispered. You didn't do anything again didn't you? "I-I'm sorry." You bit your lips as you relaxed, removing your staff from his hold.

"For someone that works with emotions you do suck at it." He said, smirking at you.

You scratched your nape as you stared up at his face, his very very beautiful face. Ugh!

"I know. Its been a challenge controlling my own. I was so used at controlling others." You said remembering your childhood. How you tried to mold your always bickering parents to play nice when you're around and to act as if they loved you. You know they hated it and they hated you but what can you say you were ten and scared. But they didn't care. All they know is you're an anomaly and that they rather not be around you. That's why as soon as your grandma offered they toosed you away like a hot potato.

You shook your head as your most dreaded memory came up. You frowned and turned to look at Loki again.

"Was that you!?" You asked. You're gritting your teeth as you feel the rage consume you. He just stared down at you smirking wickedly. You boinked away the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. "We're even now." You said gripping your staff.

"Yes we are." He proudly said as he went around checking if he could find anything useful and you did the same.

It really was a lab and they've experimented on people trying to make a brain dead person have functions again. That made your stomach turn especially when you saw the reports of how the patients reacted to that. Some were like dummies and some became vicious. And so many more that you end up closing the files you're reading and you just grabbed them.all to bring them back with you.

"Find anything else?" You asked Loki but he didn't answer so you went to look what he's doing in the room he went in. You found him staring at a cradle.

"There's a body here." He said. That alerted you. Especially when you saw him touch the cradle to open it using his power.

"Nooo Loki don't!" You shouted as the cover of it opened up releasing some kind of gas. Knowing the few things you've read if your guess is correct this is gonna be bad.

You ran to him to grab his arm to pull him away but he didnt move so when you saw the sharp claw like hands coming out the gas you didn't think much and just went in between Loki and the thing.

You gasped in pain as you felt the slicing on your back.

"Good norns! Y/N! You dumb, dumb mortal!" He shouted as he caught you in his arms when your legs gave out. He looked behind you and flicked his hands green mist went to take away the life from the girl from the cradle. You heard its body make noise as it fell down.

Still in Loki's embrace you tried to breathe deep but it ended up just you gasping painfully. The cuts must have been deeper than you thought.

"L-Loki…" you pleaded with him as you felt your breathing start getting shallow and you feel like you're drowning. You must have blood on your lungs by now. You tried to swallow the sobs that tried to get out of your lips and you just stared up at his face. He really have a nice face. It's unfair.

You must have lost your mind because when he caught you staring you smiled up at him which in return got you another frown.

"Stop admiring me. I know I look better than the normal midgard male population. You really must be dumb, why did you jump infront of me. I'm a God I won't be hurt by a mere scratch." He said as he helped you to lay down on the floor as he called out to Nat and Sam on his coms. He turned you on your side to check your injury and you heard him take in a breath.

"Is it bad?" You asked thinking of the worse based on his face.

"Don't get your brain all rilled up, Cookies. It'll be alright." You giggled when you heard him call you on your new nickname.

"S-so I'm cookies to y-you now too." You coughed but still smiling.

"Oh you need to shuush." He said but you can hear the smile in his tone. So your stupidity got you on his goodside.

"How can I s-shuush. This might be my last time to talk. What i-if some parasite is now in me and I'll start walking and biting people." You caughed again as you felt something soothing on your back.

"You need to change what you watch Y/N. That's not healthy anymore." He said, shaking his head. Your back is starting to feel nice now and your head is like it's floating. You giggled again as you touched his face. Even in your groggy brain you felt his emotions. Scared, amused and adoration. Is that all for you? You smiled at him again as your eyes were about to close.

"You should date me Loki." You said. His eyes went wide as he steadied you to pick you up.

"That's the soothing magic talking." He said as he started to walk.

You're about to walk past the table where you put down the files you found when you remember how important they are.

"Wait! Wait! Lemme grab those." You pointed to the tall stocks of folders.

He walked near it and you grabbed them and hugged them on your chest like your life depends on it.

You feel proud of yourself getting them or being carried by Loki. You're not sure which anymore and before he even finds your team you fell asleep.

You woke up in what you guessed as the med bay. You tried to get up and looked around to find no one. You brushed your hair with your hand as you tried to stand but got dizzy. You tried to grip the bed frame for support but you're too slow so you just let yourself fall. You're about to kiss the floor when two strong hands caught you and relief and annoyance flooded your brain.

"You must enjoy being in my arms." He teased as he helped you back on the bed.

"You got nice arms." You joked as you went back on your bed. You took a deep breath and seriously asked him "how did the rest of the mission go?"

"Well, the Widow was able to find some scavengers that tried to loot the structure they came back there before we left and they must have been the ones who triggered Friday's system. The monstrous thing that attacked you is dead officially and we didn't find another of it but we did find a mass grave behind the building." He explained as he sat down on the side of your bed.

You thanked him and relaxed knowing there's no more of that thing around.

"Do you like steak or do you prefer the simple ones?" Loki suddenly asked. You looked at him confused.

"What for?" You asked.

"You have offered me to date you. Have you forgotten?" He said, smirking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up. Crap you did. Mid thinking about tobe a zombie parasite walker time. You looked at him waiting for him to say he's joking but nothing . He just raised one gorgeous eyebrow as he waited.

"You're serious?" You covered your face with one hand as you tried to let what he's saying sink in.

"Very serious, you've felt my darkest emotions I've seen your darkest memories don't you think we're past the getting to know part Sam keep on babbling about?" He said as he slowly touched your elbow with a finger and you felt his sincerity and adoration. Your brain feels like it's about to explode. This majestic person really wants to go out with you. Omg!!!

You slowly nodded and he smiled.

"So stake or not?" He asked again.

"I like steak." You answered back. He smiled and left. Leaving you with so many emotions that you never felt before as your own. Joy, giddiness and something you can't name.

A week after you're out of being stuck on a medical bed you and Loki went to that date. You still can't believe it's happening. He even did all the preparations and stuff. He brought you to a gorgeous restaurant with beautiful music and the tastiest stake you ever had. It was so much fun. He's very funny in his own way. You're both enjoying a walk before going back to the compound when you felt Loki grab your gloved hand. You look up at him.

"What's wrong?" You asked. He just smiled and kissed your hand.

"I'm just very glad I gave myself a chance to know you more and not let what happened to us on our first meeting get to me. You're a very fascinating and beautiful lady Y/N. Thank you for being with me today." He said. You smiled warmly at him as you took off your gloves. You stashed them in the pocket of your coat and brought your hands up to his face but didn't completely touch him.

"May I?" You asked and you saw his face softened. You told him that you will never touch him without his permission.

"Yes…" he answered as he held both your hands and brought them close to his face. He closed his eyes and sighed at the feel of your skin. Feeling that strange feelings again that you can't name you're not sure if it's yours or Loki's emotion. You stepped closer to him and tiptoed to reach his waiting lips. You can't wait to understand that strange feeling but for now you're gonna enjoy how good it feels.

Tag list

Skin to skin: @delightfulheartdream @victias @kaogasm @marvelgirl7 @alexakeyloveloki @newdaynewyearnewlife @multifandomlife22

Tom Hiddleston and Characters: @jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @CurlyRed2020

The ones with stikes, I cant tag you guys i dunno why T.T

#hbc week of love #the th horniest book club #the th hbc #loki x reader fan fic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader drabble #loki x reader imagine #marvel loki #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson fluff #loki x reader #zephirahnyxwrites

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 2

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Summary: Alexys is a doctor living a life of exclusivity on Raxus, hoping to survive through a peaceful existence, concealing herself from those she believes would use her, or kill her. When fate intervenes and instigates a perilous journey she’d been desperately trying to avoid, Alex finds herself caught in the middle of two sides in both war and love.

Chapter 2 - Consciousness

Words: 3.4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: mentions of blood and broken bones, medical procedures

Read on AO3

It was the light of morning that caused my eyes to flutter open, the hardness of the tiled floor beneath slowly recognised in an increasing ache pulsing through my body.

I was slow to move, measured actions helping to bring myself into a seated position, arms shakily holding me up at the sides. Memories of the previous evening flooded back in swift succession, along with the pain of immense fatigue that always followed the act of letting the Force do my healing for me.

Did it even work?

My hand gripped the hospital bed that his body remained slumped on and I pulled myself upwards, feet gliding along the ground under my legs until I could stand. The scene before me was still shocking, even in remembering all that happened. Eventually, I noted the even breaths seeping in and out of the pilot’s chest.

He survived the night. Well done.

The numbers on the monitor confirmed what the voice had said. Heart rate steady. Oxygen levels optimum. Blood pressure higher than it had ever reached the night before. Looking over the battered and broken man, covered in dried blood that had spilled to the bed and floor, I felt a rush of emotion break free from its cage in my chest, unleashing an irrepressible urge to cry.

I sobbed quietly, knowing it was both relief and exhaustion that the tears crawled down my face. I wasn’t really sure why it hit me so hard. I didn’t even know this man, and somehow his survival at my hands was overwhelming, bursting at the seams with a happiness I’d never experienced for a patient before.

But then I recalled what I’d done to make it possible.

Fear struck like a spark in the centre of my chest, rippling its way through my veins.

There’s no way I could explain this as a simple act of medical miracle. He’d know. Then they’d know. And everything I’d built would come crumbling down. I’d have to find a new planet, a new home, build a new clinic, leaving everything behind.

I just wanted to heal people. I didn’t want to be a part of either of their worlds, and I didn’t want to d-

A croaky moan escaped from the pilot’s lips, his eyes moving underneath the lids, struggling to open. He groaned louder, and it became clear all too quickly he was starting to feel his extensive injuries. Panic set in, realising I hadn’t had time to give him any anaesthetic or pain relief.

This was going to be a rough wake up.

A piercing whimper bellowed from his chest, startling me into focus. With the trolley at hand I wrenched open the draws in search of anything with a pain-relieving quality and prepared the med-injector with heavy fluid. He’d already started to move his limbs, presumably in a way to understand what was happening, and another strained yell echoed in the room, sending a shiver rocketing down my spine. I jammed the needle into the IV cannula port, pushing in the medicine without much of a thought to appropriate dosage.

I just needed to stop him moving.

He began hollering even harder, tears welling in his eyes as he started to thrash against the mattress. Snatching at his wrists, I slammed them back down on the bed.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! I know it hurts but you’ve got to give the painkiller time to work. I promise it’s going to be alright!”

His eyes flew open, an obvious distress burning from behind brown irises. They flickered over my blood-stained clothes, then locked into mine, pleading, begging for me to do something to take away the agony.

“I know,” I said softly, a more tender edge to my voice. “I know it hurts. I’m doing all that I can. Please just stay still. It will get better. Please.”

The pilot drew in a deep, haggard breath, his bottom lip trembling. Eventually his jaw clenched as our eyes remained fixed, a silent pact of trust hanging in the air. It took me by surprise, how easy it was to calm him, and I seized the chance to soothe him even further.

“My name is Alex, I’m a doctor,” I explained. “Your ship crashed just outside my clinic. You were hurt, badly. You fell unconscious and I brought you in here to treat your injuries.”

Such a simple explanation for the truly gargantuan effort I had performed.

I wonder if he’ll ever know how close to death he was.

It wasn’t the time to tell him now, not when he seemed so scared. There was some semblance of understanding in his features, dark bushy eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment, only for his eyes to shut again as he withheld a pained cry. I released my grip from his right wrist, placing my hand in his to squeeze gently. An act of sympathy, something I had done many times for people in distress. Even the small movement was enough to make him yelp.

Kriff. I forgot his arm was broken.

“Sorry!” I squeaked. He was still wincing. “Let me try and fix that.”

It was obvious how wrong the angle appeared in his forearm, beginning to prepare more local anaesthetic into the injector handle. I shot the needle a few centimetres above the fracture, the pilot barely flinching. Compared to the rest of his injuries it would likely have felt like nothing at all.

“I need to set this okay? Your arm is going to feel numb in a minute or two. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

His nod was measured, careful not to move anymore than he had to. I left him for a moment to find my universal cast and a sling, giving the injection a few moments to filter through his tissue and into the nerves. When I returned I could see some of the pain medication had already started to take hold, the sting of discomfort in his eyes beginning to waver, his muscles losing their tension and relaxing ever so slightly into the mattress. I prepared the cast, cutting the shapes out for his fingers and thumb, getting it ready for quick application.

“Poe,” he said slowly, his voice croaky and filled with restraint. “My name is Poe.”

I met his gaze again, trying my hardest to put forward an aura of confidence, even in my exhaustion. “Nice to meet you, Poe,” I smiled. With a lightened touch, a finger trailed softly down his right forearm. “Can you feel this?”

“A little,” he whispered. It was clearly hard for him to find his voice again. “It’s kind of… fuzzy.”

“Do you think I could try and set your arm now? I can wait if you prefer.”

“I can handle it.”

Underneath his lips I could imagine gritted teeth, clenching hard, bracing for the pain. It occurred to me then maybe this wasn’t the first time he’d broken a bone.

Without another word I pulled the X-ray unit’s arm up towards his fracture site, hoping he didn’t notice the splashes of his blood smattering the machine. Pressing down on the image button revealed a better picture in comparison to the absolute mess his femur had been. Only his radius was broken, in an even line, no splintering to be seen.

Finally something easy.

With two hands around his arm on either side of the fracture, I poised myself for a quick pull and twist. Poe’s muscles tensed underneath my grip.

“Just try to relax, it will make it much easier,” I insisted.

He drew in a deep breath, and the tension released from underneath my fingertips. I’d learned in my experience not to tell patients exactly when I was going to perform something painful. Something about the surprise of it somehow made it hurt less. So with one fluid movement I pulled and rotated the bone back into place, knowing even before I shot the X-ray it would be aligned. Poe was crushing his eyelids closed, waiting for me to move again.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

His eyes opened, meeting me with a look of surprise. I’d already begun to position the cast, bending the malleable plastic to the contours of his limb.

“First try?” he marvelled. I nodded, while trying to rein in my ego. “Never had someone get it on the first try.”

I swallowed hard. “I, uh... I wasn’t so lucky with your femur.” I flicked through the previous X-rays, pointing to the multiple shots of my attempts to fix the break. His eyes widened, mouth in a small ‘o’.

“That was my leg?” he gasped, “And you put it back?”

Both of our eyes glanced to the wound on his thigh. It was closed.

But I didn’t put any bacta on it.

Poe’s disbelief distracted him from my own. What I’d done last night with my crude attempt at Force healing had managed to not only mend the life-threatening severing of his artery, but also somehow pulsed enough energy to knit his wound back together, leaving a sealed laceration where the deep hole had been. Dread filled me again, weighing down so forcefully I didn’t want to move.

How am I going to explain this?

“T-thank you. For getting the bacta into it so quickly. Must have some good quality stuff.”

Thank every particle in the universe. He suspected nothing.

I moved slightly to position myself in front of the trolley that stored evidence of the low quality bacta solution and salve I had used for his chest wound and burns, and feigned a smile of appreciation.

“Just doing my job.”

All of a sudden it seemed to hit him, the situation he was in. His questions came out in rapid fire, desperate for clarification.

“Wait, where am I? What happened to my ship? Where’s BB-8?”

He began to rise from the mattress, wincing at the many injury points as he pulled himself into an upright position on the bed. The quick movement evidently made him dizzy, as he pulled his newly casted arm onto the bed railing to stabilise a wobble.

“Woah, just hold on a minute there,” I snipped, doctor mode engaged. “You’ve still got some serious injuries that need time to heal. Nasty burns, a collection of broken bones and the remnants of a punctured lung. Now bacta can be a miracle cure but it still needs more time before you start moving around again, or you’re going to ruin all the progress I made.”

Poe looked as if he was going to argue, but as my eyes bore into his, he recoiled back into the bed, sighing from both the pain of movement and the lack of answers.

“I was in the middle of an important mission okay?” he stressed. “There are people who are waiting on me. I need to get a message back to the Resistance. To tell them I’m out of commission.”

I tensed. The thought of the Resistance coming here to pick up their injured pilot was enough to make my heart beat faster. Sure, maybe Poe didn’t suspect anything, but the likelihood of convincing force sensitive people like Leia Organa, or the scavenger girl….

Attempting to fool them into thinking I’d healed this man with a bit of brute force and bacta would be near on impossible. But I couldn’t prevent Poe from contacting anybody without arousing even more suspicion. I’d just have to go along with whatever he wanted until I could formulate some kind of plan.

“Alright, how about I get you my transmitter and you promise not to try and move until I say so?” I offered, the tone in my voice not really implying that no could be an appropriate answer.

“Sure thing doc,” he agreed.

Maker, I hate when people call me that.

I made my way over to my tech station, using the moment to give him a couple of the answers he’d been so desperate for. “You’re on a remote clinic on Raxus, about 3000 kilometres- uh… klicks, from Raxulon. Your ship… Well, I haven’t been outside since it exploded at my front door. And your droid unit… I haven’t seen.” I realised quickly how insensitive this information came out when I looked up from my rummaging to Poe’s horrified expression. He began to sit upwards again, giving even less care to his wounds, forcing me to rush back to stop him. “I haven’t checked outside yet!”

“Why haven’t you been out there?” he demanded, eyes flaming.

“Maybe because I was stuck in here saving your life? And how was I supposed to know you had an astromech droid with you?”

He huffed, seeing the logic in my question. “Can you please check if BB is okay?”

I raised an eyebrow, curious at how much emotion he was committing to this piece of equipment. All of the medical droids I’d come into contact with over the years were extremely flat personality wise. Intelligent and useful, but I’d never grown any type of attachment to them. Nothing like Poe seemed to have with this BB-8 droid.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll go look for the BB unit. Just please stay in bed. And… prepare for the worst.”

Underpromise, overdeliver. One of the many phrases I’d recited during my medical training. I just really hoped the latter would be the case in this situation.

The latch of the clinic door closed softly behind me, the crisp morning atmosphere somewhat refreshing for a moment or two, until I shook myself into focus to assess the completely destroyed X-wing ship consuming my vision. With sunshine finally illuminating the environment, rolling green hills of the countryside extending beyond the horizon, I scanned the blackened metal skeleton of the ship, ashes smattered all over the ground, glass and electrical wires splayed everywhere.

Well, this doesn’t exactly ignite hope.

Walking around what was left of the X-wing, I examined the surrounding area for any trace of a droid - not just the shine of metal, but the possible tracks left by a robot who was looking for its master. I walked slowly into the field behind the crash site, my eyes surveying every bit of ground, hoping to see any metallic glint that might indicate an intact droid.

Since the clinic was the only building for a few kilometres, there was hardly another structure it could be hiding behind, or lodged in. I almost wanted to keep walking, washing my hands of all of this, so I didn’t have to go back and tell Poe his obviously beloved droid hadn’t survived like he did. But another ruined machine caught my attention.

My comm-tower was flattened into nothing - steel, wiring and black plastic flattened into an artificial pancake.

Kriff, more bad news for Poe.

With my only means of communication squished there was no way any of my tech could send a signal far enough to reach the Resistance, let alone the next village over. And now I would have to make the weeklong trek back to Raxulon to get another one.

This day is kicking my ass.

With a long sigh, I ventured towards the ruined X-wing, assuming if I hadn’t found BB-8 by now, it must have been pulverised by the explosion I narrowly avoided last night. I searched the hollow structure of the ship, hoping for any scrap of metal that could be related to the droid, but it was all so black, covered in soot and melted, everything beginning to mutate into some other portion of the machine. When I skimmed over what was left of one of the wings, there was still a rounded hole I assumed BB-8 would have been housed during flights. An empty hole. There was always a possibility the BB droid could have gone searching for help beyond my clinic, but again, there wasn't a trace of movement in the dirt track leading away to the nearest village.

I think it’s time to be the bearer of bad news.

I extricated myself from the mangled ship, looking back towards the front walls of my clinic, noticing now the remnants of the explosion that had left countless dark stains over the light blue paint, along with a few cracks and impact points where metal had hit the cement. The bushes I’d planted a few months ago in time for this planet’s version of spring had been scorched, most of the green overtaken by grey and black soot. On closer inspection, it became obvious one had been split in half, the edges of leaves opening up to a large gap.

I quickened my pace and kneeled in front of the jumbled shrub, my hands diving in to push burnt leaves out of way, finally discovering a large metal ball of orange and white leaning on the blue concrete wall. A little cracked and dirty, but seemingly intact.

Oh wait, where’s the head?

Scurrying around on my hands and knees, I felt around the bushes once more, moving along the line of the wall. The twigs were scraping against the skin of my arms, but I was too excited for the possibility of some good news that I ignored the sting they caused.

Unexpectedly my hand struck something hard, pushing the stiff lower branches out of my view to find a domed head dug into the ground. Picking it up, I brushed away some of the dirt, surveying for any obvious damage. Its antennae was crooked, a few deep scratches slicing the metal, but it all seemed fairly superficial. With the head in hand, I strode back to the body unit, beaming with the thought I could ease even a little bit of Poe’s worry.

My delight was swiftly dissolved when setting the pieces together. I’d assumed the magnet would hold and the droid would spring back to life. Instead, the head slipped straight off, sinking into the ground once more with a muffled thud.

Yeah, that seems about right.

“I have good news and bad news,” I declared sheepishly as I walked into view of Poe, lugging in a separated BB-8. His face burst into an illustration of relief, then confusion as his brain finally registered the image of his dear friend separated into two pieces, and lifeless.

As I placed the metal components onto the hospital bed at the side of Poe’s leg, he looked up at me. “This is the bad news right?” His hands tentatively checked over the BB unit, attempting what I had done not minutes ago, and watched the head piece slide back over the metal ball and dive into the mattress.

“Um… Actually… This was meant to be the good news,” I grimaced. “The bad news is that my comm-tower was completely flattened by your ship. None of my transmitter tech is going to be able to send out any messages until I can get another one built.”

Poe’s jaw clenched, and I only noticed now the dark stubble that glittered the lower half of his face.

“And when would that be exactly?” he queried sharply. I didn’t like the tone of his voice.

“At least another week if I left now. But I can’t leave you like this, you’re still in critical condition.”

It was obvious he was hiding his frustration, hands scrunched into balls. “They can’t wait that long.”

I scrambled at any answer that might settle him. “I mean, maybe some of the villagers could help, but there’s no guarantee-”

“Then get them to help!” he exploded, making me step back. At seeing the startled look on my face he softened, realising the severity of his demand. “I’m sorry, but this is just… so important. I know you’ve already done more than I could have ever asked of someone, but I still need more of your help. The fate of the galaxy depends on it.” His eyes glistened with hope, a silent plea, sending a cold wave of unease down my spine. He held a bandaged arm out, hand open, reaching toward me.

I didn’t want to be a part of this. It was exactly what I had run from for so long. Even now the immediate urge was to bolt out the front door, leaving behind this stranger who could unravel everything I’d built.

But there was something about the expression on his face, the desperation in his eyes, calling out to me. I was all he had right now. I was his only lifeline to put him back on whatever journey he had been travelling before fate made him, quite literally, crash into me.

“I mean, if the fate of the galaxy depends on it…” I mumbled, placing my hand tentatively in his. “Okay. I’ll help you get back home.”

Next Chapter

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction

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chews-erotically · 4 years

Photo

*Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

* Warnings: None really, maybe more angst/ comfort

* Summary: You arrive on Central and begin your recoveries.

* Word Count: ~1500

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE* *Part SIX* *Part SEVEN*

PART EIGHT

If you had fled the Green moon even ten minutes later, Ezra would have died. That was the grim information relayed to you by the sling-back medic after he’d been rushed to a med cot, given high-flow oxygen and sedated. He was critically ill. You’d been told immediately upon arrival and quick assessment that once you reached the Pug you were going to be transferred directly to a teaching hospital on Central.You were faring a bit better, but not by much. Your shoulder had been cleaned and bandaged. As you were conscious, you were given supplemental oxygen through a nasal cannula.

The medic had attempted to press for some detail concerning how you’d both ended up in such states. Exhausted and struck numb, you’d simply shrugged and moved to rearrange the intravenous line of lactated ringer’s solution going into the catheter inserted into the top of your forearm. The machine had started beeping, and the sound was like a hammer to your skull.

Once you reached the Pug things moved quickly indeed. Transport was coordinated in the Pug med bay and a nurse approached you, stating that she would be taking you into an exam room to obtain an updated set of vitals and enter your information into their data system. You had refused.

“I’m not leaving him.”

Clearing his throat, the nurse tried to explain the protocol he had to follow. You held up your hand to still his speech.

“Save it. You won’t change my mind. I’m not leaving him.”

***

Once on the transport you’d been able to keep your eyes open for perhaps twenty minutes. You’d passed out sitting on the hard metal bench with your head slumped forward onto Ezra’s cot, your hand clasping his.

***

Central was cacophonic. After the eerie quiet of the Green the sounds, chatter, colors and thrumming life surrounding you was beating into your brain like a staccato mace. Your head throbbed. You flinched away from the shoulders brushing past you. You were close to panic, overwhelmed by the sensory overload. You took deep, measured breaths. You stayed as close to Ezra’s cot as possible. You had to resist the urge to climb into it with him and throw a blanket over your head.

They were going to have to take Ezra away from you. You knew this logically. He was fragile. Needed intubation, needed close surveillance. He was most likely septic at this point and it was uncertain if the damage he’d suffered to his lung tissue would be permanent. You knew he might still die. You knew this, and you wept openly, pitifully.

“WAIT!” you’d croaked out, shakily grasping the shoulder of the ICU nurse who had begun rushing him down the hallway for STAT bloodwork.

She’d turned to you with sympathy shading her features.

You gazed at her name badge through waterfalls.

“....Mollen. That’s your name?”

A pause. “Yes,” she’d replied softly. You knew you needed to trust her.

“His feet get cold at night. Only at night, otherwise he says they’re like furnaces. He can’t sleep well if his feet aren’t covered. Please cover his feet. Please,” you’d choked.

She had given you a small, sad smile. “Of course.”

“Thank you, Mollen.”

You had stood pathetically twisting your hands together with tears coursing unabashed until Ezra turned a corner and disappeared from you.

***

“Prognosis is precarious,” One of the physicians had pulled you into a private room to go over findings with you. You had since been seen and treated; miraculously you had not needed surgery, though you would most likely have permanent nerve damage to your thumb and two fingers on your left hand. You’d been told that you’d most likely be in the hospital for a week or two; you needed IV antibiotics and respiratory therapy in addition to wound care.

You’d requested a private room as close to the ICU as possible, passing a piece of aurelac to the Intake Administrator. He’d accepted with wide eyes, and you’d gotten your room.

The doctor was solemn as she looked over the rims of her glasses at you.

“Your partner has diffuse opacities in the lower lobes of his lungs. The left is partially collapsed. We’ve intubated him, as you know, to allow his lungs time to rest and strengthen. He is septic, and he’s being treated with an experimental cocktail of three different antibiotics, dexamethasone for inflammation, and vasopressors to maintain his blood pressure.

“Fortunately, his body is strong and his kidney function is improving. He has remained without a fever for the past eight hours, so that is reassuring. If he continues to show improvement I am fairly confident that we can begin planning for extubation within the next two to three days. If he can tolerate extubation and begin breathing on his own, we can start weaning his oxygen and begin to wake him up.”

Though you knew what you were walking into, you steeled yourself.

You entered his room and stood a moment to process the sheer enormity of the amount

of medical equipment keeping Ezra alive. You took in the tubes and wires, the bags of

fluid infusing through catheters, the softly beeping sensors. When you were not in your

room or engaged in your own treatments, you were here. You pulled up the chair that

Mollen had placed especially for you, and you began your silent vigil once again.

Ezra looked so small in that bed, so fragile. He was dwarfed by the machinations

surrounding him. He was pale, wan. As you always did, you grasped his hand and

squeezed, ran your thumb over his knuckles the way he’d once done with you.

you talked to him softly, describing the room, going over what had happened since you

had escaped the Green. You talked about your own treatments and progress. You

described Central, how busy and bustling everything was, how many people flooded the

streets each day. Theatres you’d seen across from your window, coffee shops and

bars you wanted to explore with him. Your favorite activity was reading to him. You had

spent a great deal discussing all manner of art, and Ezra loved to talk about books both

well-loved and those he longed to read but had been unable to find. As you found

yourself in the incomprehensible position of having more credits than you could ever

imagine possessing, you had books delivered to your room.

Ezra was extubated the day you received your last dose of antibiotics. You were due to

be discharged in three days. His organ function had improved at a rate that had exceeded

the expectations of his medical team. His encyclopedic list of medications had shortened reassuringly. He was strong enough to tolerate the extubation and was transitioned to a nasal cannula. You rejoiced in this, though your anxiety spiked as the physicians began the arduous task of bringing him out of sedation. It did not happen all at once as many thought, but gradually and in increments. It happened in sighs and twitches, thrashes and groans. You wondered if he dreamed. You hoped that he could hear you repeat your devotions.

You had secured a lease downtown, finding a loft a block from the hospital. It was spacious, covered in windows that stretched, floor to ceiling, and opened onto a balcony that afforded you a breathless view of Central. You had never had something so nice in your life.

You had been discharged for two days, you had started to plan how to turn your new space into a safe space for both you and Ezra, when you were alerted by the hospital that Ezra had awakened. He was asking for you.

You doubt if your feet touched the ground as you rushed to the hospital, stopping only to catch your breath.

You entered his room panting, vibrating.

Ezra was sitting upright, the first time you’d seen him not supine in weeks. He was pale, he sported dark and sunken circles under his eyes. His hair was wildly curling, his blond streak sticking straight out. He was sipping gingerly on a cup of water with a shaking hand.

Your Ezra. Beautiful Ezra.

“.....Ez?”

He looked upon you as if you were an apparition. He went to move shakily to his feet, and you were there before he could stand. Enveloping him in your arms, kissing his face, feeling him and inhaling whatever you could of him, of his vibrant life.

Alive.

You realized you were both weeping, you chuckled as you took turns wiping the wetness from one another’s face. When he spoke, his voice was rough, you knew it would take time for Ezra to regain his mellifluous cadence.

“Beautiful star, our souls cannot escape one another, universe try as it might to tear us asunder.”

“I missed you, Ezra. Sweet love, I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again. Ever.”

“I wish you luck trying to part from me at this point, Dove.”

You knew you’d done something right, standing against him.

You knew you were home.

#chews-erotically writes #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra #ezra fics

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checkurwindow · 3 years

Text

i’m so scared

Book: Open Heart

Warnings: It’s a lot longer than my usual fic and much angstier, but hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen for light swearing.

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC

Word count: 5200+ I KNOW!! It’s the single longest piece of writing I’ve ever written.

Author’s note: I’m actually really proud of this fic so please reblog and let me know what you thought of it! Here’s my masterlist for more content! I wrote a sequel to this fic too!

One

That’s how old she was when her father left. Her mother knew that he was never going to stay, but that didn’t stop her from breaking down every night for 3 months when she thought her beloved daughter had fallen asleep, when instead she lay awake, wondering what could have happened to make her mother hide her sadness every day, only letting her walls come down when she thought nobody was watching.

She didn’t understand much beyond that, just knowing that her dear old dad had left for a pack of cigarettes and milk, but left behind only a stack of legal papers on the counter while her mother had gone off to work, desperate to give her little girl the best life she could.

Two

The number of people in her family. She and her mom, her mom and her. It was just the two of them, or at least that’s what her mother told her every time she asked. She was fine with that, she loved her mother with all her little heart. She didn’t need anybody else.

Her mom had found a job in Providence, a job that could support both of them, and an apartment that had a reasonable rent. She was scared at first, moving to a “big city”, but her mom assured her that it was a kingdom, and she was the princess.

Three

That was the number of bracelets she had gotten for her fifth birthday. She and her mom had been walking downtown, running some errands, when they walked past a jewelry store and saw the set of three bracelets in the store window.

She had asked her mom if she could have them, even resorting to using her best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to persuade her.

Her mom had told her that they were too expensive, and they didn’t have enough money to buy them. She was disappointed, sulking the rest of the way home.

3 weeks later, her mom returned to the jewelry store, spending almost a month's worth of her salary to buy that special set of bracelets for her daughter. She was beyond excited when she woke up on her birthday and saw that bright pink box next to her bed.

She started showing off those prized possessions of hers to all her friends at school. One was gold with a diamond charm, the other was silver with a ruby charm. The last was bronze with a deep sapphire charm. The bronze one was her favourite, even after Derek Reagan said it was ugly. She told Derek that he was ugly.

Four

That was the grade she was in when she met him.

It was a usual Monday, she was rushing through some unfinished homework when Mr Kingston, her teacher entered, accompanied by a boy who looked just a little taller than her.

Turns out it was a new student, transferring from another school that had just closed down. He was wearing a blue button-down, a big difference from the rest of the boys in her class whose t-shirts were either dinosaurs, or cars, or superheroes. He introduced himself as Ethan Jonah Ramsey while the rest of the class stared blankly at him, before returning to their own friends. Mr Kingston assigned him to the seat next to her.

“Hi, Eefen Jonah!” She waved excitedly at him as he sat down next to her.

“My name is Ethan, Jonah is my middle name,” he corrected.

She made a small ‘o’ with her mouth, thinking for a short while before responding, “I prefer Eef,” she smiled, making him blush slightly.

She took a container out of her bag, opening it to reveal large apple slices. She took one in each hand, careful not to let them slip as she turned back towards him, offering the slice in her left hand.

He slowly took one and smiled, “thanks,” he said when he noticed the set of sparkly jewelry on her wrist, “I like your bracelets.”

Five

That’s how many people were in her friend group by middle school.

First, there was Jackie Varma. She thought Jackie was a little mean when she first met her, she always picked fights with everyone. But she soon learned that she was only mean to people she didn’t like, and she even called Derek stupid when he was mean to her. She asked Jackie if she wanted to have lunch with her after that.

Next was Sienna Trinh. She was nice to everyone, and her first friend at school. She always shared her food, usually sweet treats, with everyone in class, even when Jackie was convinced they were poisonous, she never stopped radiating her positivity.

Bryce Lahela was a flirt. And rightfully so, as every girl in her class had a crush on him. Every girl except her. Bryce was convinced he knew the reason why, and voiced his opinion every chance he got, “She doesn’t have a crush on me because she’s in love with Ramsey, that’s the only reason.”

She would always blush when he said that, which was often seeing how he and Jackie bickered daily about it. Yes, she and Ethan had been best friends since fourth grade. Yet that was all they were. Best friends, never venturing out of that sacred zone.

And then there was Ramsey himself. He had gotten tall, very tall. He was easily the tallest of the group, while she was one of the shortest, barely taller than Sienna. He was a bit gangly and awkward, sometimes very quiet as well, but he was her best friend.

Six

That was the day of the month Ethan was born.

He was turning fifteen, and begged his dad for money instead of his usual books. His dad thought it was strange, as reading had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but waved it off as typical teenager behaviour.

A couple days before, she had lost her treasured bracelets. She had taken them off during art class, careful not to spill paint and ruined her favourite set of jewelry. She had rushed off after class because she wanted to get the cafeteria pizza while it was still fresh and hot for all her friends, and accidentally left the bracelets behind. When she came back to get them after lunch, however, they were gone. She cried for the first time in what felt like forever.

Ethan’s dad had done what he had asked of him, giving him cash for his birthday. Upon receiving his present, he rushed up to his room and took his box of savings out from the top of his closet, almost falling off the chair he was climbing to get them.

He hurriedly counted up all his money, adding to the amount he had been saving, ecstatic when he realised he had a little more than what he needed. He quickly ran out, wallet in hand, barely able to tell his dad that he was going out as he sprinted out the front door.

He finally made it to the jewelry store that, after much research, he knew carried the same set of bracelets as the ones his best friend had lost. The attendant asked what a young man like himself was doing buying such an expensive set of jewelry, teasing about if using all his hard-earned cash by doing extra chores was really worth it for a girl.

He smiled widely, heart racing from the sprint over, but nodded rapidly, forking over the money he had planned to use to buy a new set of books. When he got home, he put the shiny new bracelets in a box, doing his best to wrap them in bright red wrapping paper, her favourite colour.

At school the next day, he got in early and slipped the box into her desk drawer before she arrived.

“Eef,” that’s what she called him when something big was happening, “you won’t believe what I found!” she squealed to him after class.

She told him all about the bracelets she found at her desk, while he smiled and nodded, telling her he was happy for her. Jackie made eye contact with him and gave him a knowing look, his eyes darting around the room when he realised, but she didn’t say a word about it after that.

Seven

The number of med schools she applied to. They all applied to med schools.

She applied to Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton, Brown, NYU, and Johns Hopkins.

She was accepted to all of them, which was more than impressive. Her mother had never been prouder of her.

Ethan never told her, but he applied to the same schools as her, all seven. He got into all of them except Harvard, so hoped to every powerful being up beyond the night sky that she wouldn’t accept their invitation. He wasn’t ready to lose her, not yet, maybe not ever.

After spending countless coffee-fueled nights sorting through and weighing the pros and cons of each school, she finally decided on Johns Hopkins. Ethan did too, after he determined that they had the best professors there. At least, that’s what he told her when she asked how he decided.

Sienna, one of her closer friends in the group, was her shoulder to cry on if Ethan wasn’t around, which was rare but had happened a couple times throughout the years. Sienna decided to go to Princeton, along with her boyfriend, Wayne, or was it Dwayne? Nobody really knew as he never bothered to show up most of the time when they reluctantly invited him per Sienna’s request.

The rest of their friend group split up, each going to a different med school. They made a pact one drunken night the summer before they all headed out to med schools all across the country.

They promised to meet up every chance they could, even if it meant driving in the middle of the night through storm and snow. Jackie insisted it was way too cheesy when Sienna half sobbed, half stated it while they sat on Bryce’s rooftop, bottles of alcohol and snacks surrounding them, but in the end, the tears made Jackie agree.

Ethan helped her pack for college, something she assured him she could easily do herself but he insisted anyway. He helped move her things into her dorm, something he hadn’t yet done for himself but he didn’t care. They met her roommate, Grace Young, who upon first seeing them, mistakenly assumed they were dating. She quickly corrected Grace, properly introducing Ethan as her best friend.

Eight

That’s the number of years it took for Ethan to realise he was in love with her.

Why it had taken him so long, he didn’t have a single clue. He should’ve realised it sooner, but now he couldn’t not see it. Ethan was completely sure he was mind-blowingly in love with her.

Why hadn’t he noticed the first day he met her, when she immediately shared her apple slices with him, making him feel welcome and accepted unlike most of the class. Sure, he had figured out long ago that she was beautiful, but he never thought it was love.

Why hadn’t he noticed it all through middle school, when Bryce mercilessly teased the both of them about it. “Damn,” he thought, “I hate it when Bryce is right.”

And why had he not realised it in high school, when he spent all his savings he earned over countless summers to replace the bracelets that she lost? When instead of bullying her, Derek Reagan started flirting with her, which made Ethan so angry when he saw it happen, but ecstatic when she turned him down in front of the whole school, citing all the times he had bullied and picked on her. Friends don’t do that for each other. But she was more than just a friend, wasn’t she?

Ethan should’ve known when he followed her 370 miles away from their hometown just to be at the same med school as her. Sure, it was a great school, but that wasn’t the reason he was there. He was there for her. You don’t just do that for a friend you like or even have a crush on. No, he loved her.

It was quite ridiculous, really. How had she gotten him wrapped around her finger, and without him even realising for so many years? Ethan knew he was helpless to her charms, he would do anything she wanted him to do, he would’ve followed her to the ends of the earth if she had asked.

But did she know? That was the thought that circled around his head during sleepless nights as he tossed and turned in his bed. Did she know how weak she made him? How helpless he was when it came to anything that had to do with her?

He quickly decided that she couldn’t have known. She wouldn’t have let him spend all his birthday money and savings on her, let him follow her to med school, let him torture himself all these years if she knew it was all for her.

Nine

That’s how many apartment listings she had to choose from.

She sat in the coffee shop near the hospital reading over the listings. Now that they had started their residency, Grace had been matched with another hospital and moved in with fellow interns there.

This one was too expensive, that one would be too loud. She had no idea which one to choose. And to add to her troubles, she had no roommate. There was no way she could find a reasonable place in downtown Boston without a roommate, it was impossible.

That’s when Ethan walked through the door, his hair combed to perfection as usual.

“Ethan, thank god you’re here. Come help me pick out an apartment,” she pleaded, showing him pictures of all the listings.

He shrugged his jacket off as he sat down next to her, inhaling the comforting scent of hers he had grown to love over all these years that wafted through the air.

“This one looks nice,” he pointed to one of the listings, “barely a block away from the hospital, great lighting, tons of restaurants around, and the rent would be affordable for two people.”

“I know, it’s perfect but I can’t afford it,” Ethan frowned and looked up at her in confusion.

She let out a defeated sigh, “I haven’t found a roommate yet, and there’s no way I can afford that place all on my own,” she admitted and turned back to the other listings in search of a cheaper place, the frown still evident on her face.

“I’ll be your roommate,” he mentally cursed himself the second those words escaped from his mouth. He had just offered to be roommates with his best friend that he just happened to be hopelessly in love with. What could possibly go wrong?

His regrets immediately ceased to exist when her face lit up, full of delight. She threw her arms around him gratefully, hugging him as tightly as she could, and he knew every single moment would be worth it for her, “thank you so much, Eef!”

Ten

That’s the number of times he had tried to tell her.

The first time was when she came home after a bad day. It was pouring rain outside, and she had walked in completely drenched and in a mess of tears. After many attempts on Ethan’s part to try to get her to tell him what was wrong, he eventually gave up and stuck to comforting her instead. As she cried, soaking his clothes with not only her tears but the rain her clothes and hair had absorbed on the way in, he wanted nothing more than to tell her how much he loved her.

Then there was the time she convinced him to bake a cake together on their day off. He had accidentally gotten cake batter on her nose, and she laughed as she smeared some of it across his face, which resulted in a war using their leftover ingredients still on the counter. He never thought she was more beautiful than she was right there, and was tempted to risk it all. But he never did.

The third time was over the phone, he had gone home but she was still at Edenbrook, filling in patient charts when he received a call from her.

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice was momentarily shaky on the other end, it made his heart rate go up significantly, “I just wanted to tell you...hi,” was what she said after a long pause.

“You called just to say hi?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up before he had a chance to respond.

The next time was when they watched a movie. “Maybe a romantic movie would help,” he thought to himself as he loaded up The Fault In Our Stars. He was wrong. The movie only made her cry again, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her then.

The next time, he was determined to finally do it. He stopped by the florist on the way home, picking up a bouquet of her favourite flowers, bougainvilleas. He even rehearsed the exact words he was going to say when he professed his love to her while walking back. But he opened the door only to be met with her wearing a stunning blue sundress that left him was speechless. Only she had that effect on him.

The sixth time was in the middle of the night, around 1 am. Ethan couldn’t sleep, his head was clouded with thoughts of her and her alone. He convinced himself he was going to tell her. Yes, he was going to march into her room and tell her. He got up to tell her, but instead heard her throwing up when he approached the door. He spent the rest of the night comforting her and making sure she was okay.

Then he decided he couldn’t do it himself. He called up Sienna, who had long since figured out who Ethan was in love with. Sienna actually laughed when he had asked her to tell her on his behalf. She thought it was a joke. When she realised he was being serious, her lighthearted behavior dissolved, instead, she firmly told him that he had to do it himself, and promptly hung up the phone.

Eighth time’s the charm, right? Wrong. He thought of writing a letter, “it’s easier this way,” he thought. All he had to do was write his feelings down on a piece of paper and hand her the letter, easy. He then realised that it was far too impersonal. He knew her, hell, he spent more than half his life with her. And that’s why he knew that if he ever did it, she’d want to hear it in person from him directly.

Then he tried to tell her as they walked back from Edenbrook after a long shift. It was a typical Boston day, and Ethan decided there was no time like the present to tell her. He had every intention to tell her, he really did. But she received an important phone call that she needed to take just as he was about to open his mouth.

Finally, he decided that he had had enough. He wasn’t going to let anything come between his plans to tell her the truth for a second longer than he needed to. He planned a delightful picnic for the both of them. They headed to a nearby park that she loved on a cool but sunny day, it was a perfect day. And that was what stopped him from telling her this time.

They were having so much fun, what if by telling her the truth, he ruined the day. What if he ruined their entire friendship, years worth of time spent together wasted and down the drain all because he was so selfish? What if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, and that was the last good memory of her that he had? He gave up trying to tell her after that.

Eleven

That’s how many times she tried to tell him.

The first time was immediately after she found out. It was a shocking discovery, and she was lost as to what to do with the new information. It didn’t exactly help that it had been an awful day. On her way back to the apartment, it started to rain heavily. A terrible end to a terrible day, really. When she finally made it indoors, she instantly fell into his arms. She knew she could’ve told him there, but she didn’t.

She decided that they needed to be doing something more fun and lighthearted, so she suggested baking, and was surprised when he actually agreed. But seeing him there, covered in cake batter, who knows how much flour, and grinning at her, she wanted to keep this memory.

After feeling guilty for not telling him that day, she called him while taking a break from charts.

“Hey, Ethan,” she said, building herself up to finally tell him.

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice quivered, the nerves building up, “I just wanted to tell you,” she decided it was too much, she’d tell him another time, “...hi.”

‘You called just to say hi?” she heard his laugh on the other end.

She closed her eyes tightly, embarrassed, “yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up as quickly as she could.

The next time she tried to tell him was during movie night, but the bastard just had to pick The Fault In Our Stars. Since when did Ethan even start voluntarily watching romantic movies anyway? And he couldn’t have picked any other movie. She spent a good part of the rest of the night cursing the tears that choked back all the words she wanted to say.

Then she was going to tell him when he got back to the apartment. She spent so long in the bathroom practicing what she was going to say to him in the mirror. Time and time again, pacing in her favourite blue sundress to calm her nerves as she recited the words back to herself. But then he showed up with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He had always been so sweet like that to her. She really didn’t deserve him, and she hated herself for not telling her then.

At 1 in the morning, she felt sick to her stomach, and rushed into her bathroom. She threw up all of her dinner from hours before, no doubt looking awful while doing so. Then Ethan showed up and spent the entire night comforting her. She knew she could’ve ended her own torture right then and there, and she was planning to. Up until she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Maybe she didn’t have to be the one to tell him? And so she drove an hour back to Providence to see her mom, seeking advice. There must’ve been a better way to tell him, a way that wouldn’t be putting her through so much agony. Her mom only hugged her tightly. She told her that she was the only one who could make the decision to tell him and wished her the best of luck.

She sat at her desk and attempted to write a letter, but how could you write someone a letter to tell them about such a subject? There was no way words on a piece of paper could explain how she felt. It wasn’t fair to Ethan, it had to be done in person.

And then there was the time they were walking back home from the hospital. She would’ve told him there, she should’ve told him there, but she didn’t. Instead, she received a phone call. She knew exactly what the call would be about even before she tapped the ‘answer’ icon.

The next was the time he set up a picnic for the both of them. It was a perfect day, it was the perfect time to tell him, but that was the moment she realised she loved him. She just wasn’t willing to stain the moment she realised she loved her best friend with her horrible news.

Finally, there was the time she actually told him the truth. It was cold, but she asked him to go up to the rooftop with her. He agreed, and they made their way up to the empty rooftop garden. They stood in silence as they looked out at the city around them, the city lights glittering like diamonds in the dark, or shooting stars in the night sky. Ethan tried to tell her first.

“I love—”

“Ethan, I’m dying.”

Twelve

That’s how many months are in a year. That’s how many inches are in a foot. That’s how many signs there are in the zodiac. That’s how many days of Christmas there are.

That wasn’t how many malignant tumours she had, Ethan refused to believe it.

Well, as he soon learned, that there were most likely more than 12 tumours in the person he grew up with, the person he loves, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the person who had much less than a lifetime to live. There were twelve tumours over a month ago, and she hadn’t told him.

He was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t know his best friend had stage 4 pancreatic cancer. It was needless to say he felt like absolute shit. She had end-stage cancer and he, a doctor, couldn’t do a single fucking thing about it.

He waited until he was out of her sight before he let all his emotions out, he asked her if she could go back in the apartment and leave him on the roof to process what had happened, she did.

He knew all about pancreatic cancer, he knew that the symptoms usually don’t show up until it was too late, he knew that it would’ve already spread all across her body. Yet, it didn’t stop him from completely breaking down after she went back down.

He sobbed, he sobbed until all the tears were gone, then he shouted, he shouted at the night sky, shouting at every being up there, screaming at them, asking how they could possibly curse the most perfect person in the world with an untreatable tumour.

Once he was done, once his tear ducts were dry and his throat was hoarse, he returned to the apartment, his eyes red and his throat sore. He quietly crept into her room, seeing those teary eyes of hers that broke his heart, that made every cell in his body hurt and scream. He wordlessly climbed into her bed and wrapped his arms around her. That was how they spent the rest of the night, him silently holding her in his arms, not willing to ever let go.

She fell asleep fast, she was tired, she was always tired nowadays. He was the opposite, his mind racing. He spent the entire night hating himself for not realising sooner, for missing all the clues. All the clues that were right in front of his face this whole time.

He remembered the first time he tried to tell her when she came home upset, was that when she learned the news? He thought about how she reacted to the movie they watched, he finally realised why she was crying so much more. Then there was the night she threw up, he cursed himself for missing that. It had been so obvious. But he hated himself the most for not spending all his time with her when he had the chance.

Now as he sat in the hospital room, his head in his hands as she slept soundly, all he could do was wait. Wait for the cancer to take her from her friends, her family, from him. That’s all he could do now, wait. Ethan had been in the hospital for a week now, she’d wanted to be at Edenbrook so that he could see her during his breaks, but he hadn’t worked since the day he found out.

He only went back to their apartment to take a shower every now and then, and even then he sprinted to and fro. They didn’t know when her time would be up, it could be hours, days, weeks, or even months. And he had to be around when she ran out of time, he would hate himself even more if he wasn’t.

He had called all of their friends, and they all took turns showing up at her room to see her. Bryce showed up with a gigantic stuffed teddy bear that didn’t fail to make her laugh. Jackie came with a million stories about her horrible intern, attendings, and patients alike. Sienna came in everyday bearing fresh home-cooked food for her.

His dad and her mom showed up most days too, providing words of encouragement for not only her, but him as well. They both figured out one way or another how he felt about her, and they knew how hard it was for him.

Ethan was always at the hospital, but limited the time he spent in her room. He couldn’t stand being at her bedside, watching her groan and moan in pain as he was completely fine. Everything just felt too real for him.

“Doctor Ramsey, she’s asking for you,” a nurse said. He looked up and nodded. His feet felt heavy, like they were made of bricks as he approached her room. He pushed the door open, and his heart dropped at the sight before him.

She was staring back at him, her eyes hadn’t changed a single bit. The rest of her didn’t share the same fate as her eyes. She was thinner, her face pale and gaunt, she looked exhausted. The hospital gown looked as if it was wearing her, and not the other way around. And despite all of that, she was still beautiful in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said in a whispered tone.

He pressed his lips together, choking back the tears that were beginning to form. He couldn’t handle this.

“You look awful,” she teased, which earned a pitiful laugh from him as he wiped the sides of his eyes where tears were moments away from falling.

She moved to one side of the hospital bed to make room for him. He hesitated for a moment, afraid that he would hurt her some way, but he eventually laid down beside her. Her frail frame clung to him, and he felt the dreadfully familiar feeling of her tears staining his shirt.

“I’m so scared, Eef,” her use of the enchanting nickname she gave him that he wholeheartedly loved made the tears fall from his eyes as he closed them tightly, holding back a sob.

He didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t find the right words, so he just hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her and pressed his lips against her forehead. After all, what were you supposed to say to someone whose life you would trade your own with when they’re dying?

Was he supposed to lie and say “everything’s going to be okay”? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her any longer after all the wasted time he spent lying about his true feelings. No, he would hold her. He would hold her and love her until he couldn’t love her anymore.

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