Writing and Such

Writer for M*A*S*H, Haikyuu, anything that interests me Would love requests So normal about life and fandoms, I promise

[spencerreidmymannnn]

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[spencerreidmymannnn]

Wasteland, Baby

Chapter 9 - Blood Moon

A/N: This is 18+ under the cut so please be warned and advise if that makes you uncomfortable in anyway.

The weeks following that moment have been a flurry of activity. A royal family was visiting from far away and the palace (after dealing with the fallout of Sukuna's “diplomacy”) was walking a tightrope to be the very best for them. 

You, of course, were caught up in it. Leaving no time to talk to the King after…the herb room incident. It was killing you. Every glance left you flushed and distracted. 

Dreams constantly featured him. His eyes, his arms, his mouth…At this point, it was a problem. As if it hadn't been a problem when he first gifted you the kimono you were currently wearing. 

“...Seems a bit dramatic.” “Mm?” Izumi narrows her eyes “Were you paying attention to anything I said?” You shake your head with a sigh “No, I apologize. My mind has been…elsewhere lately.” 

Izumi snorts “Oh yes. Is that elsewhere in bed with a certain pink-haired king?” You gape at the women next to you, not given enough time to formulate a response, she bursts out laughing.

“Don’t worry. I will keep your secret.” You huff and look away from her “I have no secrets.” She hums softly, you know she does not believe you. 

Everyone was gathered in front of the palace walls to welcome the visitors, the Fujiwara Clan. Sukuna was adorned in formal regalia, looking like he was carved from marble. You have to avert your gaze when the sun shines on the gems draped across his chest. 

It's too much.

“Here they come.” Izumi murmurs. The footfall of horses reaches your ears and there they are, stark against the clear blue sky. Izumi squeezes your hand and you squeeze back just as hard.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Tanaka was right. You didn’t work in the kitchens anymore, but you knew when they needed hands. Especially with all the extra mouths to feed and the pressure to create a feast for the guests.

Words were barely spoken as meat and vegetables were chopped, seasoned, and stewed. “Here, I got that.” You say as you gently take a tray from one of the younger assistant cooks. He had been shaking when he came back from upstairs so you’d figure it would be better if you didn't have a cook faint on you.

As you climb, the chatter of the guests grow louder and louder till you are in the main feasting area, you notice the gleam of blades along the walls. Surely Sukuna's idea, showing off the power that he holds.

People crowd the tables, with Sukuna's main court seated at the very front. Jin catches your eye from that way away and smiles softly. You place the tray next to the intended recipient gently and offer a nod in greeting before straightening.

With your job done, you turn to head back to the kitchens when an older man, who you now realize was sitting next to Sukuna, he was just stooped so low you couldn't see him, stands up and clears his throat. 

The hall falls silent.

“I am honored to be here amongst some of the greatest clan leaders of this generation.” A roar echoes in the rafters before going quiet again. “In honor of these auspicious times. The Fujiwara Clan would like to present a gift to you, Lord Sukuna.”

From your spot near the stairwell, you can’t really see the minute expressions crossing Sukuna’s face. No matter how badly you want to.

Chatter had started up when the boom of the main door cleanly cut through it. There, adorned in silks, was a woman. A strong, beautiful woman. Something in you shatters very slowly. 

You know she must've walked up to the front of the table and bowed. You know the older man must've said something explaining who she was, her bloodline, and honors. But after the man said the word “Consort.” You could only focus on the buzzing in your ears.

Then you swiftly turn on your heel and rush back to the kitchens, offering a loose explanation of not feeling well to Tanaka which wasn’t even untrue and finally, finally collapse into your bed. Where you fall asleep, desperately determined not to cry.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It was still dark out, the moon high in the ink spilled night, when you awoke. Head pounding and…door? Pounding? Yes, that must’ve been what had woken you up. Someone was knocking, very aggressively, on your door.

You stumble out of bed and open the door. Towering above the door frame is Sukuna. You blink up at him “My lord? What…Should you be…” He moves past you into your small room.

“Sometimes I forget how often you speak.” His red gaze turns to you and you are immediately conscious of the fact that you are only in your thin kosode. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” You murmur, stepping back towards the door. Unsure if you wish to run or hide from his eyes. “I am the King. I am allowed wherever I wish, woman. Besides, I do not wish to be in my chambers tonight.” He mutters, slumping onto your bed.

“And why is that?” He looks up at you, and you realize he isn’t upset. No, he seems desperate. Desperate to be away from whatever is in his chambers. 

“That woman is in there.” Oh. Oh, alright. “I’ve noticed…” You pause, hoping this wouldn’t come out incorrectly. But you had said worse things to Sukuna and he hadn’t killed you yet, so you forge ahead.

“I noticed that you don’t partake…in concubines. Only when we first…when I came to your attention.” He looks down, fists curling in his lap. “I do not care for trivial things such as those. That time was a weakness. Every one of them is far too vapid and vain. Intent on winning my heart.” Sukuna scoffs at that word. Heart.

“Which is why this gift is so abhorrent!” He snarls, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Thinking they can spare themselves with some woman's flesh.”  

Without knowing what to say, you sit beside him on the bed (though there is very little room left). You are content to simply sit there when one of his arms wraps around your waist. “My lord?” 

“Shut up.” Sukuna says as he pulls you to lay down beside him. 

“Are you aware that I am a woman?” You mutter into his impressive chest. “I never noticed.” He snarks back “I am only doing this because they would not think to look for me in some lowly servants quarters.” 

Somewhere in your head, you know you should be insulted. But Sukuna is like a roaring fire. Warm and comfortable. It’s hard to fight back the way your eyelids slip. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

When you wake up, your head is fuzzy like it had been stuffed with silk. That was the best night of sleep you have had in a while. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you realize Sukuna is hovering above you. 

Just. Staring.

“What the hell!?” You scramble back against the wall and he blinks slightly “You talk in your sleep. I was just making sure you didn’t need me to rescue you.” He smirks. You scowl back.

“You said some interesting things. If the universe was kind, it would open a sinkhole right where you lay so you didn’t have to hear what he had to say next. “Oh?” You say weakly. Sukuna's smirk grows, flashing a hint of his sharp canines. 

“My name for one. In this very interesting voice.” You can feel the flush of embarrassment overtake your cheeks and you can’t find your voice. He creeps closer to you. His head ducking down to meet your gaze.

“Sukuna” He pitches the word up and makes it wobbly, a whine. This must be punishment for lusting after the King of Curses. Someone must’ve realized that you were flying too close to the sun. 

“My Lord, I deeply apologize. It is completely and utterly inappropriate of me, I can’t believe I would do that. I don’t know what came over me. I must've lost my mi-” Before you can finish your sentence, Sukuna presses a bruising kiss to your lips.

“Let's see if you can do it again.” He mumbles against your mouth.

Sukuna is as quick with pleasure as he is with pain. He uses a claw to rip your kosode down the middle, hungerily taking in your skin now riddled with goosebumps. 

He bites into your breasts and you arch your back as heat rushes down to your core. His tongue is alternating between harshly licking at the bruises he is leaving behind and sucking on your nipples. 

Eventually, Sukuna seems to deem your chest adequately mauled and grabs your hips “Have you ever ridden a horse?” Your tongue (and brain) feels heavy from the experiences of before so you take a moment to process the question.

“Mm? No, no I haven't." He grins, using his strength to flip you onto his stomach. He must’ve taken off his shirt in the middle of the night because you are now sitting on his bare torso. 

Then you let out a yelp when something wet licks up the seam of your cunt. Sukuna lifts you a little to reveal a wide mouth centered on his stomach. You gape at him and he just shrugs, very smug “I’m full of surprises.” 

With his hands still on your hips, Sukuna guides you up and down on the mouth, which you are very quickly coming to like and appreciate. “Please- My Lord-” He drags you slowly across his tongue. “None of that. You will say my name or I will be forced to quiet you.” 

A whimper falls from your lips while you nod enthusiastically “Sukuna, please I need…I need…” You feel like you can’t catch your breath. “Are you going to cum?” His voice tilts up, almost mocking you. Again you nod. You think you’re going insane.

“Then cum.” At his permission, you fall into a white hazy abyss.

You come back into your body when Sukuna flips you once more, and you realize that in between your orgasm and your body hitting the bed, he had taken off his pants. “Oh.” Somehow you become even more breathless. 

Sukuna is well endowed to say the least. His cock is beautiful like him and it pulses slightly from where he’s holding it. 

He inserts himself slowly but you can tell from the way his muscles strain he’s holding himself back by a thread. His head is low enough to your chest that he licks at any available skin, you try to squirm but he just holds tighter to you.

“Sukuna, move.” You whine causing him to bite down hard at the juncture of your neck and shoulder “You should speak kinder to your king.” You have never known yourself to beg but here you are, pleas falling from your lips, trying to make him move even one inch.

Finally, finally, Sukuna's hips snap sharply up into you and a broken moan escapes your throat. It seems as soon as that sound hits his ears, Sukuna takes it as permission to fuck you the way he wants too. Harsh and fast. 

You can’t tell if it’s been hours or minutes, but again you feel the tide of pleasure sweeping over you. His cock is bullying its way into you, practically imprinting its shape onto your inner walls. 

“‘Kuna!” You gasp, feeling your cunt clench around him as you come again. He lets out a harsh breath and impossibly seems to move his hips even faster. He presses his face into your chest and warmth shoots into you.

After a few moments he pulls back and sits up on the edge of the bed, putting on his pants again before settling back next to you. You stare blankly up at the ceiling before murmuring “I thought you said you didn’t want a woman's flesh.” 

He scoffs a little “I said some woman's flesh. You are not some woman.” “No?” You look at him. His eyes are stubbornly on the window, where daylight bleeds in. You wonder how much time you have spent in this room. With him. 

There’s a beat of silence before he shakes his head, just slightly. It is enough for you and you press a kiss to his shoulder. You are about to say more when shouts of Sukuna’s name come echoing down the hallway. 

“You have to go.” Reality crashes back into your perfect bubble. “I don’t have to do anything.” You stand and start pulling on your kimono “You have already played diplomat once and see how well that turned out? Do you wish to burn all the relationships you have with other prominent families down?” 

“If you insist.” He mutters and follows you to standing. Right before he leaves, he leans over to you “Visit me in my chambers tonight.” You feel yourself flush again “Yes, my Lord.” 

All the worry you had experienced after the banquet had fallen away, leaving you lighter than you had felt in some time. 

You’re sure he looks pleased when he leaves. You collect yourself for a moment before going out into the hallway and down to the kitchens, praying no one questions why you were so late or why your mind is wandering far, far away. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 11 - Shibboleth

A/N: A use of language regarded as distinctive of a particular group, meant to distinguish if one was inside the group or outside the group.

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It was warm. Very warm. You try to shift away from the furnace that's seeping into your side but to no avail because it tightens its hold on you. “Mmph.” “Stop moving.” The rumble of Jack's voice in your ear is what finally makes it click that you two are tangled together.

“Fuck. You’re hot.” Jack laughs softly and rolls onto his back “Thanks baby.” The light filters through the window, basking the room in a soft almost hazy glow. You pick up your phone to see you’ve been added to a Wedding!! groupchat.

You scroll through the messages idly, sitting up against the pillows and trying very hard not to stare at the muscles of Jack's back. 

Jack reaches for the crutches he had brought with him and walks over to the coffee machine on the desk. “Anything interesting?” He asks without looking back. “Mm, just dress code for tonight's rehearsal dinner. A couple of our old high school friends are going so people are excited to meet up.” 

“I’m excited to meet your family.” You look up to find Jack smirking at you over the rim of his coffee mug and you groan. “I’m going to get so much shit from you aren’t I?” “Oh definitely.” 

Breakfast passes relatively easily, you saw some folks from the wedding party and introduced them to Jack without stumbling over the word ‘boyfriend’ which you considered a generous feat. Every time he smiles your heart speeds up to a rate you feel is unhealthy. Thank god you were with a doctor. 

Jack is not used to being awake during the day for long periods of time, so you tell him to take a nap and take the opportunity to unpack all the emotions of the last few days. 

You navigate out of the crowded streets of Times Square and into central park, still crowded but stretched out enough to not feel so suffocating. 

When it comes down to brass tax, you are almost positive you have a crush on Jack Abbot. Though it feels incredibly juvenile to even say in your head, and something the hardened, independent part of you vehemently protests, you figure it’s time to face facts and be honest with yourself.

Honesty that was sorely lacking in your life right now.

So, you just have to figure out what to do about it. You can’t be sure he likes you back. You suppose traveling across states with you could be a sign but you’ve heard the horror stories of situationships past and so, you want to tread carefully. 

You decide, surrounded by dead trees and couples sipping hot chocolate, that you  will treat this whole thing like Jack was just a very good friend. A willing to be your plus one and play along with a silly-bluff-that's-gone-too-far kind of friend.

Like a fun improv game. A hellish improv game. Which is basically all improv is. 

 That's how you can protect yourself from feeling like you did when he asked- when you thought he asked- Al-Hashimi out.

Something vibrates against your thigh and you pull out your phone to see that time has managed to slip away from you and the group chat has started up again about what time people were showing up to the rehearsal dinner and what they were wearing.

You hustle back to the hotel. When you open the door, you think maybe your plan will fall apart right there. Because Jack is fixing his tie in the mirror, dressed in a fitted deep navy suit that looks practically painted on. It’s really not fair. 

He turns to look at you “Hey, sorry I got dressed a little early. I figured extra time would be needed because it is hard to get into dress pants with the leg.” “You look really good.” 

Jack smiles, now turning fully “Do I? I can’t get this tie right.” Without even thinking about it, you cross the carpet and end up in front of him. “Let me help.” He lets you take the tie, going still. “I had to do this for like all my guy friends during prom.” 

Smiling, he replies “I bet you looked gorgeous.” You shake your head fondly “I was alright.” You pat his very, very firm chest and pull away “All done.” Jack looks in the mirror “Thank you.” His voice is soft. You turn on your heel almost immediately, hoping to hide the flush on your cheeks “I have to- I'm going to get dressed.” 

After that brief wobble, everything was going fine. Until you couldn’t reach the damn zipper on your dress. You curse those with double jointed shoulders, they wouldn’t have this problem. 

You realize after several embarrassing minutes of struggle you would need Jack's help if you ever wanted to get into this dress. “Jack?” You call, twisting your body around hopelessly.

He knocks on the bathroom door. “You ok?” “Yeah, yeah, I just need help with my damn dress.” Slowly the door slides open and he steps inside. You huff a thank you and pull your hair away from your back. 

Jack mumbles something as he’s fiddling with the zipper, but you are too focused on the feel of his fingertips on your skin to ask what he said. The universe has to be testing you and getting some sick enjoyment out of it.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel the metal piece finally give and slide up your back. “Thank you. I was going crazy.” “Well, we wouldn’t want that.” He chuckles, though it sounds slightly strained. 

Swiping on one last coat of lipstick you hum “Ready to go? My sister will kill me if we’re late.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The rehearsal dinner was going…well, all things considered. Jack met your sister with easy charm and she immediately gave you her approval “Why were you hiding him? He’s so funny. And his arms!” You push her away as she giggles “Shit, he’s talking to mom and dad.”

Clara calls out after you “Godspeed, soldier!” 

Your parents, god bless ‘em, were hardworking born and bred New Yorkers. Your mom worked as a manager at a high end wedding dress boutique (the same place Clara got her dress) and your dad worked as the sous chef at a family run restaurant that was a stable in the neighborhood you grew up in.

You were so grateful to them for everything they allowed you to do and be growing up, without them you wouldn’t have discovered your love of talking and helping people. But you are so sure that Jack is going to go down like a lead balloon.

“Hi momma, Hi dad.” You kiss your parents on the cheeks. “I see you’ve met Jack!” You really hope your voice doesn't sound as high pitched to them as it did to you. Your dad smiles “He was just telling me he wanted my recipe for chocolate chip pancakes.”

Ok, so far so good. “Thats nice. I didn’t know Jack could cook.” “You didn’t know he could cook and yet you brought him to the wedding?” Your mom asks, looking at you like she did when she knew you had come home late the night before.

“I have to keep some of the mystery, ma’am.” Your mom hums unimpressed. “Jack is so sweet. He always brings me tea when we work together, and one time he checked up on me when I was sick. That's how I knew he was someone…different.”

You glance at Jack through the corner of your eye to find him beaming at you. That's when you think that maybe you revealed a little too much about your feelings towards Jack but, hey, whatever helps the improv. 

“Honey, let's let Jack and your father talk about, um, let's just let them talk.” She drags you towards the open bar. 

“Can I ask?” She turns to you, crossing her arms “About what momma?” You feign ignorance, knowing it’s not going to work. “You’ve never talked about him, not one photo or, uh,” She snaps her fingers “Softlaunch on instagram.” 

“Jeez mom.” You mutter “Don’t interrupt. I am just saying, this man appeared out of nowhere, he’s older than you are and are you completely sure about him? I want to make certain that you're safe and happy.”

Looking back at Jack talking animatedly with your dad, you find yourself nodding “I am happy, Jack wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, Grandma Nini married a man way younger than her and you said she was a trailblazer.”

 You turn back to your mom “I would tell you if something was wrong, I promise.” She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You do look happy. Happier than I’ve seen you in a while.” 

You fight back the hurt, knowing that the supposed happiness she sees will all be over once the couple goes on their honeymoon. Instead you just nod.

“Oh.” Your moms smile drops. “Honey, I don’t want you to get upset but…Olive just walked in with Wyeth.” 

Olive: your ex best friend from high school, who got upset that you “stole her prom dress” then started a rumour that you sold fake IDs to underclassmen. Causing you and your parents to be pulled into a two hour long meeting with the Principle.

Wyeth: the guy you were dating at the time then found out was cheating on you with multiple members of the brass section of the marching band. 

Not a great time in your life. But you were happy to say you had moved on and left those people in the past. Until now. Because now you are staring at Olive and Wyeth lean into each other while Olive shows off a huge fucking engagement ring. 

“Im going to go talk to Clara.” Your mom says, voice tight. As she passes your dad, she whispers in his ear. His attention turns to the happy couple and immediately his shoulders tense.

Jack looks back and forth between your parents before clapping your dad on the back and heading towards you. You, who had just downed a shot. “Whoa, hey, is everything-”

Clara taps the microphone “Dinner is served everyone! Please find your name cards and enjoy!” Jack grumbles under his breath but gestures to the long, white clothed tables. “Shall we?” “Mhm let me just-” You knock back another shot - thank god for open bars- and head towards the tables. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

This whole day seems to be going extremely downhill, extremely fast. Somehow, you and Jack had ended up sitting directly across from Olive and Wyeth. Because turns out Wyeth is the fucking DJ for the reception. It was so stereotypical you'd be laughing if you weren’t trying to get drunk. Fast. 

Of course, they had been pointedly ignoring you through the speeches. Even when it ended, Jack tried to strike up a conversation a couple of times to no avail. Not that you wanted him too anyways. 

It wasn’t until you were finished with your third glass of wine and Jack was sending you concerned looks that Wyeth turned to face you. “So,” He drawls your name, a smug grin on his face “This is the mysterious boyfriend that everyone is talking about.”

Jack nods “Nice to meet you…?” “Wyeth, Wyeth O’Brian. DJ and part time wine maker.” You can tell that Jack is trying very, very hard to keep a serious face. “You know,” The douchebag continues “I’m actually really surprised she’s settling down, I always thought with the way she took everything out of proportion no man would want to be with her.” 

“I’m sorry?” Jack’s voice hardens in an instant “The fuck did you just say?” You ask, words sharp even against the growing inhibitions. Wyeth shrugs and pulls his arm around Olive, who is now paying attention to the conversation “The way we ended and everything, you being all pissy about some rumours-” 

“Rumours,” You snarl “You gave mono to half our fucking marching band. And who knows what else!?” Wyeth rolls his eyes when Olive pipes up “You would know a lot about giving things to people.” She snickers, “I still remember when the whole freshman class got caught at a party with IDs with handwriting that looked exactly like yours.” Her voice tilts up in a sing-songy lilt.

“You fucking bitch!” You slam your (mostly) empty glass on the table. The music, a quartet of string instruments, stutters and stops. Jack is gaping at the two of them. “Fuck both of you.” You mutter before heading towards the open bar.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You had never felt worse in your whole life. 

The bartender had cut you off after your fourth shot and even when people started mingling after the dinner, they avoided you. Speaking of the dinner, you barely got past the appetizers because of what happened so you were also starving. 

 “We have got to stop meeting like this.” A familiar timbre purrs by your ear and you turn to find Jack, brows furrowed with concern, looking down on you. “Go away. I’m no fun.” You say, staring at your empty glass.

“I don’t really feel like having fun right now baby.” He murmurs gently reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “How are you feeling?” “Like shit. I hate everyone and everything and this stupid dress and this stupid dinner!” 

You breathe heavily. Did you yell that, you felt like you yelled that. Jack chuckles “You did not yell that, I promise.” Oh, you had said that out loud. When Jack shifts his arm again, it draws your attention to the way his muscle tightens against the fabric.

“Jack. How do you look so fucking good in this suit.” You mumble, running your hands down his chest “I just want to take a bite out of you.” Jack stiffens “You’re drunk, and sad. Clara said it would be best if we went back to our room, okay?”

“Please, baby.” You step into his space “It would make me feel better. Just one time!” He takes a step back, gently helping you keep upright. “Why don’t we go to our room?” He reiterates. 

You nod and follow him, happy enough to be getting out of there and looking forward to being alone with Jack, being able to forget about this night. 

As soon as you step into the hotel room, your body goes into revolt. “Jack, I really don’t-” You rush to the bathroom and make it just in time to vomit into the toilet. 

A hand circles your back, soft and steady “That’s it sweetheart. It’ll be ok, I promise. I promise. Don't cry.” You blink and realize you had finished puking and now were sniffling into Jack's very nice suit. 

“I’m sorry!” You mumble into his chest “Don’t be. Those people were fucking dicks. They had no right to speak to you that way.” Those words rumble against your ear and you nod.

Then you become all too aware of the fact that you are being constricted by the cocktail dress you were still in. You twist your arms to get the zipper, but just like before the lack of a double jointed shoulder bites you in the ass.

“Jack! I can’t-” You whine in frustration, tears springing to your eyes again “Fuck!” Jack murmurs comforting words as he easily unzips your dress and lets you slip out of it yourself, turning away from you. “Want me to get your PJs?” “Yes. Please.” 

While he’s away, you splash some cold water on your face and brush your teeth, making you feel slightly more like yourself, and slightly more embarrassed by the whole fiasco. 

“Did I make a fool of myself?” You ask when he hands you the clothes through the crack of the door. “Be honest.” “Not as much as those assholes did. I don’t want to…freak you out or anything but I heard Clara is kicking them out of the wedding.” 

Something twists in you at the love you have for Clara. Your older sister. Your best friend.

You open the door fully after getting changed. “You ok?” Jack stands on his crutches in a loose PTMC shirt and sweatpants. “Yeah. Yeah I think so. I’m sorry about the comments I made, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable since this is already such a stretch and we still have the wedding and being drunk is not an excuse to-” 

What cuts you off is a very firm hug from one Jack Abbot. “You don’t need to worry about anything you said to me tonight. I was more than ok with it. I know you were having a rough time.” 

“Still! That doesn’t-” He squeezes you even tighter and you let out a wheezing breath as the handles of one of the crutches dig a little into your shoulder. “Baby, you could say whatever you want about me and I would be ok with it, alright?” 

You must still be a little drunk because you nod and let yourself melt into the furnace that is Jack. “Let's go to bed. Big day tomorrow.” You nod again “I think this was the worst improv set ever.”

Jack pulls back “What?” You smile a little “Nothing. Nothing. Let’s go to bed.” 

“Ok, baby.” He murmurs and leads you under the sheets, setting aside his crutches next to his leg and clicking off the light. 

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TAGLIST: @li22ie2017 @ilovechaiandyogurt

[spencerreidmymannnn]

My Playlist #58

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[Track #4] Love Is Embarrassing

The bus was filled with the chattering of volleyball players, somehow energetic at 6 o'clock in the morning. You find a spot next to Hinata who has apologized about a million times since he hit you. Of course you forgave him, he’s one of the nicest guys on the team. 

You pull back one ear of your headphones so you can listen to what people are saying. Fishing out  your computer, you bring up the article you were working on. You have till tomorrow to submit it but you want to do some exploring before the competition so you’re trying to get it done now.

Tsukishima moves down the aisle, pausing at your seat “Hey Tsukishima. Good morning.” 

Things had been…odd to say the least. He’ll still walk you home, but only when Yama is there. Sometimes, very rarely, he’ll bring you a snack from the vending machine. When you swear you can’t go on with the day, he’s there with a chip or candy bag.

It’s weird how he seems to know exactly when you need a pick-me up.  

The blonde huffs and slides into the seat directly behind you. Turning around so you could see him you ask “What? Too polite to answer?” He rolls his eyes “Jesus, good morning. Are you happy?”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You snark. He just puts on his headphones and stares out the window. A part of you is hurt at the blunt dismissal, used to the constant back and forth he brings to your life. 

“Nevermind I guess.” Slumping back into your seat, you turn up your music and try to concentrate on writing your piece. 

You manage to write for a little while before your eyes keep dropping lower and lower, till eventually you give in. Putting away your laptop, you slide further down into your seat and let your lids slip shut. 

A shake of your shoulder. As you blink open your eyes, you realize it's dark out and the lights of a hotel are refracting into the bus. A pair of amber eyes look into yours.

“You fell asleep.” “Did I?” You mumble, feeling the scratch of your voice more than hearing it. Clearing your throat you sit up. “Shit is everyone inside?” Tsukishima nods in response. 

For a brief moment you stare at each other in silence. He had waited. You don’t know for how long or why but you do know, somewhere deep in your bones, that he waited. “Are you going to move or just stare like an idiot…?” And he ruined it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm moving.” You mutter, grabbing your duffel bag.

“There you guys are.” Kiyoko huffs, standing next to Daichi. Though you didn’t know Kiyoko very well, you admired the way she kept all the boys in line and how much passion she had. You were hoping to get an interview with her during the tournament.

Daichi hands you both key cards “Since you two were last off the bus, you get the last room. Are you both alright sharing a room?” Tsukishima makes a face. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

“Do I have too?” Oh, he doesn’t want to share a room with you. You didn’t want to either but it was a little insulting to be rejected so outright. Kiyoko sighs “It’ll be hard,” She turns to you “Because of the uneven ratio of boys to girls, you’d have to share with a boy anyways.” 

At that, the blonde makes a face you can read: disgust. “Fine. Fine, I’ll share with her. Better me than anyone else.” 

Daichi raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. Kiyoko nods “Good! I’m glad it worked out.” As you two walk away, the captain calls to Tsukishima "Remember! Bright and early tomorrow!” 

Tsukishima nods crisply in response.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Honestly, the universe must be laughing at you. Someone has to be enjoying this rather cruel prank. Because you are certainly not. “Shit. I can talk with Kiyoko. We can’t…there’s no way we are sharing a bed.”

A twinge of annoyance shoots through you, adding to the already rankled state you were in. “It’s too late for that. You take the floor.” He looks at you insulted “What? Why should I take the floor? I'm the athlete here!” 

You roll your eyes “Please, get off your high horse.” “My horse is a perfectly normal size. I am taking the bed.” “No you are not!” You settle yourself in the middle of the mattress. Tsukishima fixes you with a stern look. “Move.” 

“No.” It takes a minute but you can tell you’ve broken down his defenses “I’ll sleep on the floor.” He mutters. At least one good thing came out of this arrangement. 

Throwing a pillow to him, you glance at the closet. “Want me to get you a blanket?” “I can get it myself thank you.” 

Letting him set up his bed, you slip into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth. When you walk out, Tsukishima is stretched out on the floor. The low light casting his hair in a golden glow. Something twinges in you. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have him on the bed. He is right about needing to be at his best for tomorrow. 

So with a heavy sigh, you gesture to him “Come up here.” He squints up at you. “What?” “You’re right. You should be on the bed.” 

There's a pause, a thick silence settles over the room. “But you’re up there.” Jesus Christ. “Yes. Is that a problem?” Somehow an even thicker silence follows after that. “Are you scared, Tsukki?” Now, you could be wrong, but you swear in the dim light Tsukishima actually blushes.

He mumbles something. “What was that?” You ask.

“God! You’re so annoying.” Tsukishima climbs onto the bed, bringing his pillow and extra blanket. “Just stick to your side.” You roll over onto the right side of the bed. “Not a problem.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Apparently it is a problem. Because when you wake up, he’s practically on top of you. His breath fans against the crook of your neck with one of his surprisingly muscular arms wrapped gently around your waist.

You should probably get him up too. You find that you really don’t want to though. 

So, for five minutes you let the blonde sleep peacefully. Then you free your arm (that has fallen asleep underneath him) and shake his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up.” Tsukishima lets out a truly dignified noise that you are totally not going to hold over him.

“Tsukki, it's time to get up.” You say with a little more force. His warm amber eyes blink open, for a second, he just stares at you. Then reality hits and he scrambles off the bed in a flurry of limbs and blankets.

“What were you- What was- What do you think you’re doing?” He spits out, face a spectacular shade of red. “What was I doing? Sleeping. You were doing your best impression of a blanket.” 

“I was not!” You shrug, feigning nonchalance when inside you also wanted to freak out but you wouldn’t get anything done with two of you going insane “I know what I saw.” 

Tsukishima stares at you, still beet red. You slip out of the bed and he casts his eyes up to the ceiling. Which would be sweet if you weren’t wearing full pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. 

“I’m going to get ready, because I'm starving.” Tsukishima just nods mutely. You slip into the bathroom and sink down onto the cool tile. Jesus Christ. Your mind keeps turning over the warmth that he gave off and how his breath hit your skin and his arm-

Like some goddamn movie character, you have to splash water on your face to break out of that train of thought. 

When you walk out, the blonde is waiting by the door dressed for practice and returned to his normal color. He raises his eyebrows “Ready?” “Ready.” You grab your bag and key.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You stare at the blinking cursor, halfway through another go at your rough draft you try to find places you could improve. Being able to tune out the commands of practice is pretty easy but every once and awhile, a flash of blonde appears in the corner of your eye and suddenly all thoughts disappear except for him.

Which is really fucking annoying.

He had disappeared the minute you got to breakfast, grabbing Yama from his table and dragging him to some unknown place. The pair didn’t return till you all had to pack on the bus again for practice. 

Hinata asked you to sit next to him again so you obliged but you swear Tsukishima was staring daggers at the back of the ginger's head the whole time. But you couldn’t be sure because every time you looked his way he stared out the window, very deliberately avoiding eye contact. 

 Kiyoko sits down primly next to you. You give her a nod of acknowledgement. “Are you enjoying observing the team? I’m sorry about the nose incident.” You laugh softly, turning your body more towards her.

“It’s really ok, barely felt it after the first day. I am enjoying it. I didn't think I would at first but this has been…an interesting experience.” She nods in satisfaction “And everyone’s being nice? Respectful?” 

Something in her tone is different than it was a moment ago.

“Um..yeah, they have. Everyone was super welcoming, even though they had no reason to be, you know? I mean I was the one coming in with no experience and-” You snap your jaw shut and only relax when Kiyoko offers you a small smile of encouragement.

“That's good! I know some of them can be prickly.” She casts her eyes towards the court. “Especially Tsukishima.” “Shit!” You fumble with your laptop for a second, caught off guard by her comment. 

A couple people glance your way, including the subject of the conversation himself. Kiyoko laughs softly “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you by surprise. I was talking to him today and he seemed…out of sorts.” 

He has been acting weird, and that was before this morning's wake up call. You had thought about it on the bus and only with Kiyoko's comment did you realize that other people had noticed it too.

  He starts making his way over to you, leaving Kageyama sputtering in protest. You look over to Kiyoko for help to see her discreetly slipping away towards Daichi. Traitor. 

Tsukishima calls your name and you smile tightly “What’s up?” “You’ll be at the game, right?” You nod “It’s sort of my job.” Normally, the blonde would take you up on the obvious bait but instead he just stares at you “I need to talk to you after.” 

Then he turns on his heel and walks back to Kageyama, telling him to pick up the ball and keep going. Leaving you utterly confused. 

Talk? About what? What could he possibly have to talk to you about?? Daichi calls a team huddle but you can barely hear him, frozen to the spot, mind spiraling. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, ta- 

“Hey! You’re a part of the team too!” Daichi calls, breaking you out of your spiral. “Oh sorry!” You gather your stuff and squeeze in next to Yama a warmth rushing over you at the place you’ve been given with the group. It doesn’t last long though, when you meet Tsukishima’s eyes and are once again reminded: 'Can we talk?'

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 10 - Paraprosdokian

A/N: A figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence, phrase, or larger discourse is surprising or unexpected

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<<Prev part | Next part>>

Miraculously, Jack had been given time off for the wedding. Probably because Gloria knew after Robby’s sabbatical mess it would be better to just listen to her attendings. 

No, the pushback didn’t come from Gloria. It came from Robby. The night he heard about Jack's plan, he very strongly implied that he was making a mistake and to “stop messing around with a young girl.” 

You’re twenty eight! He told Robby that you were more than old enough to make these kinds of decisions, to which Robby mumbled something about midlife crisis and to avoid blowing up his longest friendship Jack left very quickly after that. 

Here he was. Jack Abbot. About to get on a plane to New York with his “girlfriend” who, he is pretty sure, hates him right now. 

He climbs out of the taxi to help you with the suitcase you were lugging down the steps of your apartment. “Let me help.” “I got it.” You huff out, causing him to sigh “Bab-” Your glare cuts him off. Right.

Probably best to wait before starting pet names. Even though that one has been sitting on the tip of his tongue since Halloween. It really was a herculean effort to push back the words begging you to forgive him. 

You settle into the far corner of the taxi and even though your relationship with Jack has never been touchy, he finds the distance feels like phantom pains across his skin. 

But that's nothing compared to the silence of the ride. It's suffocating. 

How is he supposed to talk to you when you won’t even look at him? Thankfully the 30 minute ride (though it felt like a lifetime) is quickly over. The bustle of Pittsburgh International Airport surrounds you both and this time, Jack is insistent on carrying your luggage, even though it’s hell on his leg. 

After navigating TSA, you two finally make it to your gate. You collapse into the uncomfortable chair, and maybe it’s the airport air but you seem more tired than ever. 

“I know you kind of hate me right now.” “I don’t…hate you.” Jack runs a hand through his curls, not noticing how your eyes follow. “But you are upset.” He prompts, and you nod. Ok, good. They were getting somewhere. 

“Why are you upset?” He asks looking for some hint in your closed off face “It’s stupid Dr. Abbot.” “You’ll need to call me Jack if you want people to think we are dating.” 

That causes your jaw to clench tighter and Jack wishes he could brush away the tension that's settled into your frame. You start fidgeting with your fingers “Fine. Jack. It doesn’t change the fact that you don’t need to worry about why I’m upset.”

Again, that idea that you don’t need help or someone to worry about you. It came up when you were sick and here it is once more. Jack sighs but decides to back off, not wanting to piss you off more. 

Settling into your cramped seats Jack firmly ignores that he can feel the heat radiating off your shoulder which is about 1 inch away from his. He knew, like the taxi ride, this would be a long flight.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

New York was crisp. A sharp wind cutting through the JFK traffic and causing you to huddle closer to Jack, which he didn’t mind at all “Should’ve worn a warmer jacket.” “Thank you captain obvious.” You reply as you hail down a taxi. It’s really hot.

“Where are we staying?” He watches you chew on your thumbnail and he gently tugs your hand away from your face “The whole wedding party is staying at the Sheraton Grand. Clara’s, uh my sister’s, fiancee Kaden is like…an heir to some Maine realtor company? So he’s like rich.”

Jack nods a little, the lights of Times Square flitting across your face. “Are you and your sister…close?” You shrug a little “We’re different. I don’t think she ever understood what I do or why I do it. She’s an event planner so sometimes she’ll think we are the same. Managing people but…” 

Jack fills in the blank “But it’s not.” You shake your head “But I love her. I do.” pausing for a moment you then say “I’ll need to give you a rundown of people before we go to the rehearsal dinner, can you handle memorizing like twenty five names?” 

He laughs softly “I got through med school didn’t I?” That makes you finally crack a smile and he feels one hundred times lighter. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The hotel is as opulent as he expected, and he feels slightly out of place in his airport sweats and hoodie. Sue him for wanting to be comfortable on a flying tin can. 

A nice woman named Katie checks you in “And you are in the wedding party? May I please have your name?” You give your first and last name and the soft sound of typing takes up the space for a moment before she nods.

“I see you here with a guest, one king bed is that right?” Jack and you both pause before you groan “Shit. It’s because you're my boyfriend. We have to share a bed.” Katie furrows her brow a little at that statement, which…fair, it is an odd one to hear out of context.

“Um…I can change you to a different room but you’ll have to pay for it given its outside the wedding rooms.” You shake your head “No, no it’s fine. I'm sorry.” 

She nods slowly then hands you the keycards “Just call if you need anything.” Jack nods before leading you away from the desk, hand on your lower back and as you step into the elevator he asks. “Are you alright?”

“Jack, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or weird, I mean like…we work together and it’s- I should have done something, called ahead or anything! Especially with Dr. Al-Hashimi, I don’t want to overstep so I can totally take the floor or sleep in the tub or-”

The words tumble out of you, out of some deep down place where it seems like you’d been holding them in this whole time. Jack is profoundly confused and he cups your face “Sweetheart. Baby, can you- Stop talking for a moment please?” You blink up at him. Eyes round.

“Ok. One, I do not want you sleeping in a tub, Jesus. Two, I am not uncomfortable sharing a bed with you as long as you are ok with it. Three, why are we talking about Baran?” 

A ding signals the arrival to your floor and you quickly busy yourself with looking for the room versus answering his questions. He huffs in frustration as he follows you. 

“Are you going to just avoid me now? That’s gonna be hard when we are in the same room you know.” Jack says, shifting a little to elevate the pressure off his leg as you open the door. 

Just like the lobby, it’s a plush room. A bed with fluffy blankets and a comical amount of pillows is the focal piece, with huge windows that look out onto Times Square. The art is tasteful…still hotel art though. But Jack isn’t a critique. 

You’re staring out the window, shoulders tensed near your ears and he can tell that you are once again picking at your nails. 

He calls your name gently “Please. What’s wrong?” “Are you and Al-Hashimi dating?” The words send a shockwave through him. Sure, he knew you overheard him asking her for drinks but Jack hadn’t realized you thought it meant…that. 

“No! NO!” Jack steps towards you “Not at all. I asked her to get drinks because we both worked in combat zones. Thought we could exchange war stories.” With those words you deflate, exhaustion now fully hitting you. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.” You turn, arms wrapped around yourself.

“It’s ok.” He murmurs taking a step towards you, and when you don’t step back he takes it as permission to wrap an arm around you. He leads you to the bathroom door. “Take a shower, wash the day off. You’ll feel better, I promise.” “Ok.” You nod. 

“Can I bring you your PJs and toothbrush?” Because Jack really can’t handle seeing you in a towel right now. Thankfully you agree on that front too and slip into the bathroom.

Trying not to be too nosy as he looks through your suitcase, he very quickly grabs your PJs and toiletries. Then he tries even harder to ignore the fact that you were naked and only separated from him by a thin shower curtain.

“Um, your stuff is here. Just let me know if you need anything.” You hum an affirmative reply and he sets the clothes onto the toilet seat. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Jack had gone through his bedtime routine and turned off the overheard light when you came out, leaving you bathed in the coppery-gold of the bedside lamp. “Are you sure you’re ok sharing a bed?” You ask once more, shifting by the bottom of the mattress. 

And once more he nods. “I promise that as long as you are ok with it, I am.” Jack tries to make his voice sound soothing but he can’t really tell if it’s working or not. He gently pats the other side of the bed “I can make a pillow wall if you want?”

You snort softly “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both adults,” You slowly get under the covers “We can act like it.” This time it’s him that lets out an affirmative sound, trying to get comfortable without touching you.

He clicks off the light with a soft good night. Jack knows you aren't asleep because he can practically feel the nerves radiating off of you. You shift like molasses, overly cautious and that is when Jack decides that, maybe you are both adults, but no one is getting sleep like this.

“C’mere.” Gently, and with a lot of time for you to get out of it, he drags you over to his side of the bed. Setting his arm carefully around your waist, he lets himself take a breath of your shampoo. Something vaguely floral. 

“Jack…” “Just for tonight.” You think for a moment before adjusting so your face is cushioned by his chest. “Ok. Just for tonight.” Came your muffled reply. He laughs slightly before tugging you just a little bit closer and closing his eyes. 

He knows he’ll have to talk to you about the whole Al-Hashimi thing. You seemed almost…jealous of her. But that would be ridiculous. The whole thing will have to wait till after the wedding. You already have enough on your plate.

But for now, he’s content to hold you while you both drift to sleep. 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, @li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

Wasteland, Baby

Chapter 8 - Solar Eclipse

A/N: This might be a little ooc and I might hate it a little but...here you go!

You were staring at the floor, trying not to squirm against the obvious tension in the air. As soon as the council found out Sukuna was back, they rushed to hold an emergency meeting.

“You killed half of their clan!” One of the elders stands, throwing his hands in the air. Sukuna shrugs one shoulder, looking a little nonplussed. “I dealt with the issue. You all should be grateful.” 

A muttering breaks out amongst the group. You barely hear it. You were mad at Sukuna too, even though you thought you had no right to be. He was king, his word was law. But those two weeks without him made you run over every interaction and you found yourself more and more convinced that you at least deserved a “Hello servant, I am leaving. Goodbye!” 

Said in your mind with a very bad impression of Sukuna, of course. 

But watching the way he was brushing off the council's concern…you were less and less sure about getting any type of closure. 

“Enough!” Sukuna snaps out and the chaos dies down. “I have made my decision. Now leave!” Everyone stands and shuffles out rather quickly. Jin casts a tired look towards you so you follow him out. A call of your name almost makes you stop, but then you press on screw the consequences. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Though Jin now had more free time since Sukuna's return, he still asked you to look after Yuji. It was mostly for the boys sake, given anytime he saw you he would try to climb into your arms. It was very cute except for when you were holding a tray of food. 

You hum softly to him as he paints on one of your scrap canvases, creating a world of blue and yellow splotches. He seemed to enjoy it, asking you to give him pointers that he mostly ignored in favor of more blue. 

“I didn’t realize I was more important than the brat.” You should’ve been able to tell he was coming. Damn it, you’ve gotten distracted. “Your highness.” Rising to your feet, you give him a low bow “Don’t do that.” Sukuna snarls, stalking into the room. 

Yuji stops painting and stares up at his uncle with big eyes. Sukuna stares right back at him before scooping him up in his arms and sitting on his bed. It was comical and you can’t help but laugh at how he dwarfs the small bed frame. 

“Why are you laughing?” He mutters, while Yuji plays with his fingers. “You are rather large for the bed, are you not?” You reply. “You did not answer when I called for you.” He mutters, the tone shifts, causing you to pause.

Humming softly, you study the thread of the carpet beneath you. You knew it probably took three months to make the carpet, with the woman's hands who crafted it taking the toll. You also know you must tread carefully with him.

 “I did not.” You murmur. “Why?” His voice rises again almost…petulant, and you look up at him “Because I am tired of being at your beck and call.” “I am your king. You are meant to be at my beck and call!” 

Sukuna stands, towering over you from your position on the floor. Yuji just stares, eyes wide but unperturbed. “So I am at your service but I do not deserve to know when you come and go?” You look up at him, unflinching. Perhaps being around Sukuna has dulled your fight or flight. Or perhaps you are just tired enough to try to get through to him. 

“Oh. Is that what this is about? Were you worried about me?” Suddenly all his anger turns to something smug. You cross your arms “When a king shows up to my room covered in blood. I get a little annoyed.”

One of his arms reaches down, pulling you up a bit more harshly than need be in your opinion, so now he is not so much looking down on you but rather right in your face. 

“Ah, but that is not what you are upset about, mm? You didn’t like the fact I never told you I was leaving. You are dumb if you think you deserve to know your king's thoughts and plans.” You tug your arm away from him, pain crushing the annoyance inside you and he lets you go, which surprises you. Maybe your face showed how his words affected you. 

 “Perhaps you are right. I am just a servant not privy to the king's inner thoughts.” 

Crossing to the door, you turn your head “Yuji, come on. Let's go to the gardens.” “Ok!” The little boy is happy to bounce towards your legs. “Good day, Your Highness.” You throw at him, leaving him standing in the middle of the room with a strange look on his face. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Tanaka is going to commit regicide. You just know it. 

Sukuna seems to be…apologizing? Exacting revenge? Something more complex? By following you around whenever he has free time. 

Which seems to be constant. 

No warning or explanation and you’ve given up trying after the third attempt at pulling one out of him. So here you are. Awkwardly avoiding the elephant in the room as Tanaka stirs the pot of stew while radiating hatred. 

Sukuna in the meantime seems content to observe a room he’s never seen before in the castle. Again, his size makes for a very funny picture in the kitchen, if one isn't so caught in the tension between the short older woman and the king. 

“Get him out of here!” Tanaka hisses at you, Sukuna pretends he doesn’t hear. “What am I to do?” You hiss back, elbowing her out of the way to put in some more salt. “I don’t control him!” “It seems you do.” Her eyes pierce through you. 

“What are you making?” The two of you jump as Sukuna's breath heats the top of your heads. Tanaka's eyes narrow, mouth thinning into a razor thin line. Well, you suppose that means you should answer.

“Boar stew.” You glance up at him to find his attention already trained on you. His noise wrinkles “Boar stew?” “You’ve eaten it and liked it.” Tanaka snips back, another dock against him in her mind. 

“I’m sure I have.” Sukuna rolls his eyes and leans against the counter. Through some wild gesticulation of her eyebrows, you get the hint that Tanaka wants the king out of her space. 

“I’ll go grab some things from the herb room.” You offer the weak excuse but Tanaka nods with vigor anyways “Yes, please.” So you drift down the hall, conscious of the stares that come with Sukuna following after you.

On a good day, the herb room is small. But with Sukuna stuffing himself in with you it’s practically claustrophobic. His four arms scrunch up to his torso, and his head is ducked low against his chest to avoid bumping his head.

“Do you really have to follow me in here?” You ask, venom dripping from your words. His red eyes meet yours. “Yes.” “Why??” You throw your hands up but hiss in pain when you accidentally knock them against a shelf, hard. Which then in turn knocks over several jars of spices and leaves onto your clothes.

Coughs hack their way from your lungs as you wave away the cloud of powder “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Oh. My dress is ruined.” And it is. Streaks of cinnamon and shichimi are dusted across your clothes. You are also almost positive it’s in your hair too. 

Sukuna steps towards you cupping your face in his large palm to wipe something from under your eye.

Suddenly, all you can feel is rage towards the man. Old rage at him leaving for weeks, new rage at him following you around incessantly, and the overwhelming feelings that even you don’t understand come rushing to the surface.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, stepping back to feel the counter digging into your back “You just- You can’t just come back, acting like following me around and bothering me will make up for the fact I thought you- you cared about me!?”

He opens his mouth to respond but you barrel on “I honestly can’t stand the way you act like I don’t deserve explanations or respect!” 

For a moment, the air is dead. He’s staring at you and this is it. You’ve crossed a line and here’s where you die.

You had never heard of someone who spoke against the king of curses and lived. You never will, you think vaguely because you’ll soon be dead. Oh well you lived- 

Sukuna shuts you up by lifting you onto the counter and pressing his forehead to yours. “Do you ever shut up?” “Are-“ Sukuna squeezes your arms a little and you shut up. “I apologize.”

What? Sorry, what? Did Sukuna really say ‘sorry’? You hadn’t realized that word was in his vocabulary. 

“My…advisors,” He says this word with a tension you choose not to comment on. “Suggested it was a foolish thing to do. Then you walked away from me and I realized you thought it was too. For a different reason. So. I apologize.” 

His hands soften around your arm and trails down to touch your hand. Your breath hitches slightly, and for one insane second, you think he is going to kiss you. 

But the universe must intervene and calls of Sukuna's title echo down the hallway and the tension is broken. He lifts his head away slowly, turning towards the door. “I must attend to my duties.” You nod wordlessly then when realizing he can’t hear you, you say “Of course…Sukuna.” 

The king spares you one glance back before leaving the herb room. Leaving you reeling. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

My Playlist #58

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[Track #3] Slipfast

Worst day ever. Or at least easily top 5 in your opinion. First, the sky opened up and decided to rain on a day you didn’t bring an umbrella or a raincoat, leaving you soaked through by the time you got to school. 

Second, you’d normally have a change of school clothes but you wore them about a month ago and brought them home to wash them, never remembering to bring them back. Leaving you stuck wearing lost and found clothes that were weirdly tight in some places and weirdly long in others. 

Third, when you finally seemed to be coming out of the rut you were in. You had to be in English with Tsukishima. 

“Your hair is wet.” His dry voice rises from behind you. The teacher had moved seats, again, so now you were stuck in front of the guy who thinks he’s better than everyone. 

“Yes I had noticed.” “And you didn’t do anything about it?” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s amused at your terrible circumstances.

“No.” Your terse reply draws a huff from him “Just making conversation.” 

He doesn’t say anything more than that and finally, finally the bell sounds so you quickly gather your things, stuffing it into your bag and hoping to get as far away as you can from the classroom. 

Normally you would be able to brave the crowded halls. With people huddled together trying to stay warm, but today is not that day. Instead you head into your biology classroom before you technically need to be there. 

Mr. Shinji is settled at the desk and glances up when you walk in. His face goes through a range of emotions and in the end bursts out laughing. “Thank you Sensei, that really makes me feel better.” You grumble as you sit down.

He flaps his hand “I apologize. You just look…so…miserable.” You smile a little but it doesn’t do much to lift the cloud that was over your mood. “I’m a little miserable.” Mr. Shinji sighs “Ah, do you want maybe some candy?” 

“No, I’m ok. Really.” Lunch passes in a quiet manner, with only the rain pattering against the window to fill the silence but it’s nice. Peaceful. 

A call of your name draws your attention to the now open door of the classroom. Tsukishima stands in the corridor staring at you with unreadable eyes.

“Tsukishima?” Why the fuck is he here? Does he even have a class in this area? “Here.” He stalks over to the desk you were sitting and drops the outer layer of his uniform onto your desk. “Wear this instead of that ridiculous loaner thing.” 

“What?” “What?” He mocks your tone. “Must I repeat myself.” You glance at Mr. Shinji who simply shrugs back at you. “Why?” You ask, bringing your gaze back to the blonde. “Because you look terrible.” 

As much as his tone and words and face rankles you, you are not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So you slip off the lost and found jacket which he snatches out of your hand. “Jeez, it’s not going anywhere.” 

“Shut up.” He mutters and you slip on his jacket. It smells damp but underneath is something cleaner, like some kind of laundry detergent. “Um. Thank you.” You say and he grabs the larger loaner one. “Yeah, fine, whatever.” Tsukishima turns on his heel and walks out.

You’re left flabbergasted by his strange behavior but it is fair to say you are much warmer now…Whatever, he’s still an asshole. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Practice was more intense than usual today given that in a week, the team would gather on a bus and head to the National Sports Tournament. Consisting of 24 teams, it was a miracle Karasuno High made it through. But they have been getting better.

Volleyballs skid against the smooth wooden floors, alongside the shoes of players running back and forth to bring them back to the net. You are sitting on the bleachers, writing down notes to include in the tournament article. 

Still in Tsukishima's jacket but you swear you haven’t been thinking about it. That much.  

Some of the guys had asked about it but you gave a vague answer about getting caught in the rain and having to borrow some clothes to keep dry, which they accepted. You weren’t sure Tsukishima wanted you to advertise the fact he was nice to you. It might ruin his tough guy persona.

A call of your name pulls you from your paper and Tanaka waves enthusiastically, motioning you over. “What’s up, Tanaka?” You ask as you drift towards the man. “Hey! I was thinking, instead of writing, why not for once try volleyball!” 

The words make you back away slowly “Uh, I'm not so sure about that idea…” “Come on, it'll be fun! You don’t even have to hit, just throw.” He turns to the players and raises his voice “Does anyone want to practice with our intrepid reporter!?”

Hinata raises his hand almost immediately “I’ll do it!” Tanaka turns back to you “Well?” You sigh quietly “Jeez fine.” 

A flash of orange darts towards you, Hinata's bright smile is the first thing that comes back into focus. “Ready?!” He asks. “Do I have a choice?” You reply and he laughs like it’s a joke but it really, really isn’t. 

Training doesn’t stop around you, but you can tell it slows down as Hinata spikes the first ball. Which by some miracle you catch and the boy across the net lets out a cheer “Nice!!” 

The next few tosses pass without incident but just as you were getting the hang out it, a huge gust of wind blows open the gym door. Causing your eyes to pull away from the ball for one second and bam!

In all honesty, the only thing that’s really bruised is your ego. You didn’t realize how easy the tosses had been that Hinata had been throwing. But now you’re on the ground and people are fussing over you.

“Are you alright!?” Tanaka leans over you and you nod a little “Yeah I’m-” “Move.” Tsukishima pushes Tanaka out of the way, ignoring the other man's stuttering. He kneels down next to you and reaches towards your face. Pausing when you flinch away in surprise.

“Can I…?” You blink when you understand that he’s asking for permission, which is something you’ve never seen him do “Um. Sure. Yeah.” His delicate fingers gingerly touch the bridge of your nose. “Does it hurt?” No, but you never realized his eyes had a band of gold around the irises. Huh.

A sharp voice saying your name brings you back to the present.

“What?” You ask, cringing internally at how slow your tongue feels like it's moving. His eyes narrowed in annoyance “I asked if it hurt?” “Oh, no, no it doesn't." 

“Ok. Good.” He then loops his arms under yours and lifts you to your feet. “Sit on the bleachers till practice is over. And don’t fall asleep, we don’t know if you have a concussion.” 

“I don’t have a concussion.” You mutter, crossing your arms. “Whatever.” He mutters back. Deciding it would be an actual headache to argue with him, you sit on the benches for the remainder of practice.

Tsukishima comes over to you, bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you coming or what?” “Where’s Yama?” Maybe you were concussed because you swear his ears turned red at the question “I told him to go ahead. It’s not like we’re attached at the hip.” 

You snort a little, gaining an unamused look from the blonde “We don’t have all day.” “Is it still raining?” You ask as you stand. 

“I have an umbrella, you won’t get wet.” “I don’t think any woman has worried about that around you.” His ears go even redder at that comment and you swear to god you see his brain restart. 

“Jesus christ- You’re- You can’t just say that!” Tsukishima hisses as he grabs your upper arm, practically dragging you towards the gym door. All the while ignoring the lingering looks from the players still left. 

The walk home was quiet. The only sound being the patter of raindrops on the sidewalk. 

It isn’t said but he follows you down the road to the gate of your house, stopping at the blue metal that looks grey in the early evening light. You shuffle against the pavement, watching the scrap of rain water under your foot.

“Do you-” “I should-” You both speak over each other then pause, awkwardly staring at the other. “You go first.” You say, gesturing towards him. “I guess I should go.” He says, tone flat and bored.

Something inside you tenses a little. For some reason he looks so…solitary under the umbrella. You had wanted to invite him in but you supposed if he wanted to leave. “Oh, alright. Um..would you want to stay for a little? I make really good hot chocolate.”

Tsukishima stares at you like he can’t believe the words came out of your mouth. To be honest, you can’t really either. 

“Are you…sure?” You huff softly “Unless you don’t want to?” “I didn’t say that.” He snaps a little and brushes past you, climbing onto the steps before turning his head a little to look over his shoulder.

You follow him, reaching into your backpack to grab your keys. When you unlock the door, a blast of warm air rushes out. He slips off his shoes and you turn on the light in the kitchen, suddenly conscious of the dishes in the sink and the dirty clothes in the hamper by the door. 

“You can sit wherever.” You mumble but he doesn't listen. He’s just standing there, in the middle of your kitchen. 

He shuffles his feet “Are your parents not home?” You hum softly, filling the kettle with water. “No, they have work till nine.” “So you’re just here alone?” Noting his tone, which is tighter than usual, you glance up at him. “Yes?”

“Isn’t that unsafe?” He mutters “You worried about me?” You tease and he scoffs, finally moving to sit on the couch. 

Setting the cups onto the coffee table, you sit a respectable distance from the blonde. Which is hard considering how tall he is, occasionally his knee would brush against yours. 

“Thanks for…walking me home.” Tsukishima turns towards you, pushing up his glasses “Well, obviously you need it. You looked like a disaster this morning.” You push the cup towards him and he picks it up. 

“Do you ever get tired of being so annoying?” He smirks “No, never.” 

The visit passes in a blur with small quips passed between you and him. Before long, you glance at the window and sigh softly “It looks like the rain is letting up.” Tsukishima stands, grabbing his cup “Let me wash this.”

You move to grab the cup from him “I can’t let you do that.” Then, Tsukishima grabs you by the shoulder and turns you back around to the couch. “Sit down.” Too surprised to argue  you do as he says and sit down hard.

The place where he touched was still warm. As you watch him in the low light of the kitchen, the warmth seemed to travel from your shoulder down to your whole body. Hell you didn't even feel where Hinata hit you.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad day after all. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 9 - Spoonerism

A/N: Had to talk to family friends about my fanfiction. It was real weird. I'd also like to note I'm very aware how silly fake dating is. Indulge me here.

Spoonerism - A speech error or intentional wordplay where the initial sounds, consonants, or vowels of two or more words are swapped

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You have no right, really, to feel this way. You tell yourself that over and over as you climb into the car, as you get into your elevator and stare blankly at the shiny silver wash. You repeatedly scrub the thought into your hair when you get into the shower.

Because feeling this way means that you thought you had some hold on Ja- Dr. Abbot. That those drinks and his looks meant something more than just a way to pass the time. How stupid you were.

The kicker was he didn’t even say anything. No texts, no calls, no dramatically running after you into the rain. Ok maybe that was an overblown fantasy but…still, he could’ve said something! But again you are reminded there really is nothing to say. 

So, as you lay in your bed, fan blowing aimlessly above you, you resolve not to let it affect you. Just…you won’t linger during hand-offs, you won’t bring him coffee, and you will not, repeat, will not let him get underneath your skin. As if he hasn't already. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your plan holds for about three days. You counted. 

You had done it perfectly too. Only gave him brief hellos then even briefer goodbyes. Save a lot of money on only one to-go drink versus two. Very staunchly ignore the way his eyes follow you at the end of the day. 

“Hey, are you available for a chat?” Kiara gently places her hand on your elbow, drawing you away from the computer you were filing on and into the stairwell. “Sure, what's going on? Does it have to do with Mrs. Anderson because I gave her the pamphlets you told me-” Kiara cuts off your rambling, holding her hand up. 

“Mrs. Anderson was a tough case and you did your best. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Oh. Silently, you nod, letting her continue. “You’ve been a little…unmoored lately. I was wondering if there is anything you need to talk about?” 

You blink before forcing a tight smile onto your face. “I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not a lie, technically. “I’ll do better, I promise.” The other woman looks at you skeptically but accepts your excuse, nodding a little “Ok, but if you need to talk to me, I am always available.” 

Your phone in your back pocket buzzes twice but you don’t let it break your concentration. “Thanks Kiara.” She smiles, tilting her head “Get back out there.” “Yes, ma'am.” Your phone buzzes again. 

As she’s leaving, your hand moves to pull out your phone but then Dr. Abbot walks into the spot that Kiara had left. You didn’t even realize she had gone but now you desperately want to call for her, beg her to come back and rescue you. 

“Dr. Abbot.” You stumble over the blockage in your throat. “Can I help you?” “You’ve been avoiding me.” His (incredible) biceps are crossed over his (equally incredible) chest. There's no way to escape how his gaze pins you to the floor and you flounder for a response. 

What can you say? That you’ve only just recently realized what this man means to you and the fact he was flirting with another woman makes you want to rip your eyes out. No, that sounds completely insane. 

“I’ve been busy. You know how this place can get.” You wave a hand towards the muted sounds of the ER then drop it back to your side like it weighed a ton. His eyes still haven't left yours, cold and unyielding. 

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me, I know when someone doesn’t want to see me. We need to talk and you dodging me isn’t making this” He gestures between the two of you “any easier.” Heat starts to build underneath your skin, nails digging into your palms to stop you from saying something stupid. 

“Dr. Abbot, respectfully, I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” Abbot scoffs and his arms grow tighter around his chest. “Respectfully,” he snarks, “I think we do.”

“What? You want to talk about the fact you haven’t gotten coffee in a few days. To be frank, that’s a little dramatic.” You try to step around him but he grabs your shoulder. 

“Please, ba-” “Dr. Abbot?” Parker pokes her head into the stairwell, pausing when she gets a read of the room, the tense energy that one could cut with a knife. 

“Uh, we need your opinion on something? Mind if I grab you?” Abbot lets out a frustrated breath that definitely doesn’t make you shiver. He lets you go “This isn’t done.” 

The safety of your car wraps around you like a blanket. You finally got the chance to check your phone. Two messages from ‘Gross Freak’ are displayed on your homescreen.

Hey! I know ur super busy being a super awesome social worker and have no time to talk to ur fav sister but when you have the chance give me a call??>>

Im serious. We do need to talk>>

Fuck. You really didn’t want to talk to Clara right now, her perky voice echoing in your mind. Already grating on your nerves. Instead of answering, you shut off your phone and start your engine. Whatever she wants can wait for tomorrow. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Tomorrow's problem, fuck that you should’ve dealt with it yesterday. 

Because your fucking sister would not stop blowing up your phone. Every ten minutes it feels like it's buzzing in your back pocket and distracting you from getting important work done. 

Dennis raises his eyebrows at you as you scowl at your computer screen. “Everything good Bennet? You look…upset?” “I'm fine!” You snap, then pull back a little at the hurt on Dennis’s face “Sorry, sorry. I just…my sister keeps texting me and it’s bugging the shit out of me.”  

As she passes by, Samira lets out a low whistle “Hey I feel you babes, my mom can blow up my phone like no other.” “Ugh, moms.” Victoria rolls her eyes. She and Samira firmly high five before passing each other on the way to their patients. 

Letting out an amused huff, you turn back to Dennis “It’s just annoying.” He shrugs “I’m sorry. If you need time to answer it, I’m sure Robby would let you take a call.” You raise your eyebrows “Yeah I’m sure he would for you.” 

Dennis stutters, ears flushing a deep red then promptly turning on his heel and walking straight into Dana. 

Eventually you give into the incessant buzzing, and duck into the locker rooms to take the call. Mel mouths good bye as she exists and you wave a hand towards you listening to the phone trill. 

“Finally! Jesus Christ, can’t you call a girl back?” Clara's voice comes through the speaker. “Sorry you know how busy I am. You were kinda blowing up my phone.” “I know, I know. But guess what!?” You sigh softly, running through a rolodex of things Clara could possibly want to call you about. 

“What?” “I'M GETTING MARRIED!” You flinch back from your phone wondering if you could lose your hearing over calls. “You are?” “Why do you sound so surprised? Yes, I’m getting married and we set the date. November 30th.” 

A blue screen descends over your mind. Your sister set her wedding date…twenty five days from now. How was that possible? “Sorry, you said what day?” “November 30th. It will be a small ceremony, with just our closest friends and family. So about twenty five people. Oh! You’re bringing your boyfriend right? We really want to meet him.” Jesus, she doesn't breathe. 

“...said that if you broke up with him, which we wouldn't know cause you don’t tell us anything, then we could just set you up with Gerome!” Gerome, your sister wants to set you up with her fiance's brother. Great, let's all get married to each other, why don’t we. 

“Listen, C, I might not be able to get PTO. We get really busy- ""Please I know I gave you enough time. I need you there. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Her voice softens at the end. 

Well she has you there. “Yeah, no, I know. I’ll be there.” “And you’ll bring your mystery man?” Your ‘mystery man’ that doesn't exist. A harmless lie you told your family after another holiday season spent being asked about marriage and babies and “You aren't getting any younger…” 

Fuck that you are twenty eight not a wizended grandma but you suppose Aunt Justine doesn’t understand that. 

Now, if you tell Clara you and this man broke up she would set you up with Gerome. You don’t dislike Gerome but you are almost positive he’s seeing someone and just hasn't announced it yet given how much his style has changed over the last year. But if you say yes…you would need a mystery man. 

“Um…I’ll see if he’s free. His work gets super busy.” Clara lets out a low hum “What does he do for work again?” “Listen C I gotta go, I love you. Send me the details for the wedding.” You hang up before she can get another word out. 

Dragging yourself out of the locker room, you slump down at your computer again, banging your head against the keyboard. “Finally took that call huh?” Dennis looks up eye bags deep enough to be sink holes. He looks as good as you feel. 

“Yeah, Im fucking screwed.” His brow furrows and comes to stand next to you. “Whats wrong? Bad news?” You debate coming up with some kind of lie to ward off the question but a lie got you into this mess in the first place. And maybe Dennis knew someone who would be willing to be a boyfriend for a couple days. 

“My sister's getting married and she wants me to bring my boyfriend to the wedding.” “You have a boyfriend?” Dennis asks, voice louder than you want it to be. “That’s the issue. No boyfriend, and I don’t want to be set up with any of her friends or fiance's friends. So now I’m stuck.”

“Jeez, that's like some kind of Hannah Montana situation.” “You watched Hannah Montana Huckleberry?” Dennis scrubs the back of his neck “Trinity is catching me up on old Disney shows.” 

You laugh softly, “Yeah well, it is kind of one of those things now that I think about it. Anyways, do you know anyone who could be a fake boyfriend for a couple days?” You turn your body towards him, hoping and praying he does. 

“I can do it.” Dr. Abbot speaks up from behind you. Jesus Christ, when did he get here? You whip around to face the doctor whose face was scrunched with an emotion you couldn’t read. “I'm sorry?” “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” The words sound so ridiculous coming out of his mouth for a moment you think you’re dreaming.

But then you realize you aren’t.

“Dr. Abbot,” You drag him away from where Dennis is staring, slack jawed. “Are you absolutely insane!?” You hiss “There is no way I am letting you-” “And there is no way I am letting you consider doing this fucking plan with one of Whitakers friends?” He cuts you off, crowding into your space.

“What’s wrong with Whitaker's friends? Why do you care?” Dr. Abbot scoffs “Does he even have friends who aren’t Trinity?” You try to search for any names you’ve heard but come up with nothing. He takes your silence as an answer.

“Let me do this for you.” You stare at him, the emotion from before softened into something tinged with desperation. Maybe he feels guilty for leading you on, but this is a hell of a way to apologize.

“I’ll pay for everything.” He offers. “Fine.” You say and he stares at you like he can’t quite believe you actually agreed. “I’ll send you the details later. Have a good shift Dr. Abbot.” 

You walk away from him, feeling his eyes follow you until you reach the exit. What have you just agreed too? 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, @li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 8 - Mondegreen

A/N: Mondegreen - A word or phrase that results from a mishearing especially of something recited, or sung.

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No one could ever say Jack Abbot was not festive. He had thrown on a shirt with a stupid Halloween pun and he even set out a bowl of candy for the trick or treaters! Sure, it was the bare minimum but he hadn’t felt the energy to go all out on a holiday for years. 

When he got the text from Robby that a couple of people were going to The Monterey Pub for after work drinks, Jack figured it would be good to show his face before he started his shift. 

Glancing at his closet, he double checked that he didn't have anything that could pass as a costume. With that confirmed he headed out to the bar. 

It was crowded. He hates crowded bars, someone inevitably spills something on him and he ends up sticky and wet. Most everyone in the place is dressed up to some extent and it takes Jack a minute to find Robby in the crowd.

He claps him on the shoulder “Hey brother. What’re you dressed up as?” Robby snorts “A doctor.” “Oh very creative.” Jack rolls his eyes and looks around “Who’s here?” 

Robby nods towards the bar, where Jack spots Whitaker and Santos taking shots at the bar. Trinity is wearing what looks like a giant fur coat and holding a long thin cigarette holder. Whitaker…is wearing dog ears? 

Jack turns back to Robby, whose cheeks are a ruddy red color. “What are they supposed to be?” Robby coughs into his fist “101 Dalmatians. Santos is Cruella and the rest of that group is the dogs.” 

Just as he says that, Jack watches as you stumble off the dance floor with Samira and Mel, all three dog ears a little lopsided, and you wearing a tight white dress with black spots highlighting, well, everything. “Jesus.” He mutters and Robby nods “Yeah, it's been rough.” 

Laughing, Jack replies “Ha, rough.” The other man shoves his shoulder. 

“You and her, uh, what’s up there?” Jack is not about to talk to Robby about his feelings for you, especially when he is less than clear about them himself. So instead he pivots and says over the music “I’m going to get a drink!” 

Robby just rolls his eyes at him before waving him away. Jack sidles up to the bar, where he gets the unique opportunity to watch you take a white tea shot. Following the drink all the way down your throat. 

“You’re gonna be feeling that in the morning.” You blink, as if caught by surprise at seeing him there. “Hi Jack, I didn’t- didn’t know you’d be here?” Your voice tilts up at the end in a question, and that's how he knows you are very drunk right now. Because if you were sober you wouldn’t be so unsure.

“Had to make sure you all were behaving.” He smiles at the flush across your face. “I like the costume by the way.” He gestures to the dog ears even as he is fighting very hard not to look past your neck, which now that he’s closer, he can see a red choker around it and fuck he really wants to bite-

Jack blinks out of his thoughts when you let out a groan, quickly pulling off the ears “I told Trinity it was a stupid costume!” Grabbing your wrist he sets the ears back on top of your head, ignoring your big eyes, pupils blown out in the dim light of the club looking up at him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s cute, I swear.” 

You flush an even deeper pink and a well of satisfaction rises in Jack. Yeah, he’s still got it. His phone buzzes against his thigh and he fishes it out to see that sadly he had to head to the hospital. 

Leaning down to look you fully in the eyes, Jack says “Do you have a plan to get home?” You nod emphatically “Langdon is picking us up at the beh- behest of Mel.” Of course he was, Frank Langdon would blow up the hospital if Dr. King asked him to do it. 

Well, at least Jack knew you would be getting home safe.

“Ok. Shen won’t wait on me forever, I’m going to start my shift.” He steps back, holding a hand up in a soft wave “Bye Jack.” You whisper it, for some reason, but it’s oddly endearing to him so he whispers bye back. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

When he heads in for handoff the next day, he won’t lie and say he isn't excited to see how four doctors and one social worker are handling their hangovers. And it does not disappoint. He watches as Santos leans on Whitaker's shoulder, mumbling into his scrubs while Whitaker messages his head.

“Ah, to be young again.” Robby sidles up to him with an amused smile. It must’ve been a good day. “I thought you’d be all torn up seeing your puppy dog miserable.” That gets a hard shove from Robby “Dont call him that!”

 “I didn’t say it was a him.” Jack grins at the man, who is now huffing and puffing like he’s going to blow the damn house down. “You missed karaoke." Robby mutters. Jack's gaze snaps up “They sang karaoke?” “I thought you would’ve gotten the videos in the group chat.” 

Jack fishes out his phone “I muted that shit when you made it.” “That’s comforting.” Just as he’s about to pull up the videos sent in the ‘Official PTMC Group Chat’ your voice snags his attention. 

“Jesus, has it always been so bright in here?” You come out of a patient's room, squinting against the offensive fluorescent lights. Immediately, he steps towards you. Some type of pull demanding he check on you, just like when you were sick. 

As he reaches your desk, you have already put your head in your arms. Trying to get away from the light of the ER he assumes. “Hey kid. You doing ok?” At the question, you blink up at him and he is suddenly reminded of the night before. Wide glossy eyes staring into his. 

“Feel like shit.” You grumble, burying your head back into your arms. Jack clicks his tongue in sympathy. “You were going a little hard last night.” There's a delay, then a muffled reply “I forgot you were there.” “Oh yes. And trust me, I will never forget that.” 

“Has anyone told you how mean you can be?” Jack laughs at that, memorizing the way your hair falls and replies “Trust me, I can be much meaner. This is me nice.” You finally lift your head up “I doubt that.” “You don’t trust me?” He clutches his chest as you shake your head with a light laugh. 

“Thought you would’ve worked off the hangover by now.” “I think you’ve forgotten how hangovers work.” He laughs at the reply and sighs “Perhaps. I don’t think I’d be able to keep up with you or those cute ears you had on any day of the week.” 

Santos makes a gagging noise from behind you and he can see the way you tense up.  

“Dr. Abbot, Al-Hashimi wants to see you for hand-off. You know, your job?” Santos snarks, and Jack rolls his eyes but heads towards the attending. When he looks back at you, you’re whispering furiously with Santos, who looks very smug. Huh. 

“Dr. Al-Hashimi, what can I do ya for?” The doctor in question glances up at him from the chart she was pulling up. “I was just explaining to Mr. Theodore here that he experienced diabetic hypoglycemia and was wondering if you could walk him through care while I chart?” 

He nods, pulling up a stool to sit beside the nervous looking man and starts running through the standard procedure for patients like this. It was a relatively easy case and soon Mr. Theodore is left to be monitored carefully but without the fear of something going wrong. 

Dr. Al-Hashimi smiles at him, eyes warm. “Good work back there.” Jack nods a little “Thanks you too.” “It’s nice to be able to sit and talk with patients.” She says, and Jack concurs, sharp memories of combat zone smoke and screams slipping through his careful control. “You’re telling me.” 

“I never did get to ask you about your time in Kabul.” “Well you never did text me back about that drink.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly “Would you believe me that it’s because I work nights?” She rolls her eyes good naturedly “I’ll let you make it up to me tomorrow. You have a night off right?” 

“Should I be worried you knew that?” Al-Hashimi shrugs, her hair falling gracefully over her shoulders “I don’t know. Should you?” She steps closer to him, squeezing his bicep slightly “Tomorrow night?” He asks and she hums an affirmative.

“And how about this time, I text you?” She breezes past him before glancing over her shoulder “Have a good shift!” 

Lena snorts softly from where she took over Dana’s post. “What’s that look for?” Jack asks, reading over the board to see where he’s needed. “Nothing, I just think you might not want to flirt with other people in front of your girl.” 

“What are you talking about?” He huffs, god he’s starting to sound like Robby. Lena nods a little, gesturing her head towards one of the desks. Jack looks to find you and Mel standing in conversation. Well, Mel is speaking while you stare at Jack with an expression of…Surprise? Annoyance? Hurt? 

Shit. You had heard the conversation. Jack wants to do something, but he’s frozen as you quickly say your goodbyes to Mel. You stop in front of him, shoving a warm paper cup into his hand “Have a good shift, Dr. Abbot.” The words are sharp and you don’t look at him while you say it.

Jack opens his mouth to reply but you’re gone before he can get any words out. Fuck. 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, @li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

Hey, if you live in the US please vote in the midterms if you are able too. I can't stress enough how important voting is, especially with the current state of our government.

Its bad, very very bad, but don't let that stop you from thinking we cannot make a change. Please vote.

[spencerreidmymannnn]

My Playlist #58

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[Track #2] Mr. Eclectic

You rub your eyes as the chip bags blur into a mass of color. Fuck you’re so tired. 

Between trying to keep up with your classes and staying everyday after school for volleyball practice then writing articles for the newspaper,  your life has become way more hectic then you’re used to.

As you stare at the mass of colors and words in front of you, you debate getting something sweet alongside the chips then decide it's too much work when all you really want to do is climb onto your roof and watch the stars. 

Moving over to the drink aisle, you let the cold air wash over you. In the glass, a blurry figure catches your eye. With a very familiar shock of blonde hair. 

What the fuck? 

Grabbing your drink, you turn on your heel coming face to face with Tsukishima. Actually, not face to face, face to chest more like because he is freakishly tall and has to tilt his head down to look at you. 

The man seems to have a permanent scowl on his face “What are you doing here?” Probably the most words he’s ever spoken to you since you’ve joined the team. The other boys have quickly warmed up to you and you do like talking to them. 

Though they can get a little rowdy at times. But all he does is talk to Yama. You don’t mind if he wants to be left alone but does he have to be so rude about it? “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to be in a public space.” 

He rolls his eyes “Are you always so unpleasant?” “I- You should- You should be looking in the mirror when you say that!” Tsukishima looks blankly at you then starts snickering “Took you a minute to get that out.” 

“Shut up!” You turn on your heel and stalk over to the check out counter. “Just these please.” You mutter to the tired woman behind the counter. He follows you, because of course he does, and stands irritatingly close behind you.

As soon as you get your change, you practically sprint towards the doors and into the cool spring air. Faintly, you hear the doors swoosh open again and footsteps that stay on your trail for far longer than you thought they would. You spin around to face him. “Would you stop following me?” 

Tsukishima scoffs “As if I would be following you. I just happen to be going the same way.” He brushes past you, and leaves you scrambling to catch up “Now you’re the one following me.” He points out, rather smugly in your opinion. 

“Like you said. I just happen to be going this way.” You reply, kicking a stray rock down the road.

Silence falls between you and you breathe a sigh of relief when you get to your street “I guess no one is following each other now.” The joke lands flat between you and he mutters “That was stupid.” Narrowing your eyes, you say “Well, at least I'm trying.” 

“Whatever.” He brushes past you, being very careful not to touch you. 

The roof is gritty, and you know when you climb back into your window you will find stray rocks on your rug. But it doesn’t matter because the roof was yours. A place to escape when the world was just…too much. Too loud. Too everything. 

Looking out at the twinkling lights of the city, you wonder which house is Tsukishimas. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You check your backpack again, making sure you have everything before you leave. Families and students part around, all chattering about the game. It was a really good one. The so-called “Flightless Crows” are actually getting pretty good at this. 

You were happy you didn’t have to write about another loss, it was starting to get a little depressing. After triple checking you had everything, you pull out your headphones and start your ‘walk home’ playlist. 

The walk home is a crisp twenty minutes and usually it was uninterrupted but not even ten minutes in, you feel something hit your back. Looking up, you chalk it up to the trees above you, but then it happens again. And a third time. So finally, you turn around and see Yama waving at you with Tsukishima pointedly not looking at you.

“Oh, hi Yama. Tsukishima. Congrats on the win!” The green haired boy grins at you, jogging to get to where you are standing “Thanks! Are you headed home?” You nod, shifting your bag “Mhm.” “Oh that's funny! Tsukki and I live right near here.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you reply “Really? What a…fun coincidence.” “Do you want to walk with us?” God, you really do not want that. But Yama is looking at you with his big eyes and you would feel very, very bad saying no to him. “Yeah, sure.” You say through gritted teeth. 

Tsukishima grabs Yama's arm and pulls him to the side. He whispers something to him which causes Yama to look at him weirdly. Then he says something back and Tsukishma huffs before nodding just once. 

“Does this mean I get approval to walk with you?” You say, thinly veiled annoyance slipping through, targeted towards Tsukishma. He starts walking past you “Don’t let it go to your head.” Yama shoots you a strange look but shrugs a little. 

As you walk, Yama mostly keeps up the conversation and the blonde haired boy only speaks when asked a direct question by the other. 

Once you reach your street, you pause. Turning to Yama you say “This was really nice, thank you.” He nods, an easy smile on his face “Anytime! You should join us again.” Tsukishma makes a disgruntled noise at that. “Oh, was my presence that bothersome?” 

He turns his cold gaze to you “It seems like you are everywhere nowadays. Maybe I dislike you encroaching on another aspect of my life.” You stare at him “Wow. Pay attention to me much? I’m sorry I happen to be in your orbit now Tsukishma.” You spit his name out “But really, if you just suck it up, I promise it’ll be easier.” 

Yama is looking between the two of you, unsure if he should stop the volley of insults, eyes bouncing back and forth like a tennis match. “Uh guys?” Tsukishma interrupts him, of course “Suck it up? How can I suck it up when you know nothing about the game you’re supposed to be writing about?” 

You throw your hands up “I’m learning!” “Learn faster!” Tsukishma snaps “GUYS!” Yama shouts causing both of you to pause. “Are you done?” He crosses his arms and looks disappointed. You feel the flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, you really didn’t mean for it to go that far.

“Sorry Yama.” You mutter and Tsukishma nods “Yeah. Sorry.” The green haired boy just shakes his head. “Come on, Tsukki.” He grabs the taller boy's elbow and tugs him away. You watch as they both shrink smaller before turning up a street. A weird feeling settling in your chest.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Over the course of the next two weeks, it seems that Yama is determined to get you to walk with him and Tsukishima after practice everyday. You thought after the last time, Yama wouldn’t want to experience that again but he tells you by the water fountain the very next day that “Tsukki just doesn’t like change. He’ll get used to it.” 

So here you are. The fourth time this week walking back but this time, Yama had to stay back for some vague reason and it’s just you, Tsukishima, and a very thick silence hovering between you. 

You have to pick up your pace to keep up with him “Jesus, slow down!” You can only see the back of his head but you can very clearly envision the face he is making. But he slows down, allowing you to come up beside him.

“It sucks Yama abandoned us.” You mutter and he glances down at you “He said he was busy. Do you not respect that?” “What?” You sputter “No! I’m just saying he’s nice to have around.” 

Tsukishma stares at you before nodding “Yeah. He is.” “Did you do the assignment for English?” You ask tentatively. “Of course I did.” “I don’t know how you find the time, I’m barely getting by and I’m not the one playing volleyball.” 

He shrugs “I guess I’m just better then you.” A laugh is punched from your gut and for a moment Tsukishma looks…surprised? You shake your head slightly “better then me at school maybe. But that’s not all there is to life.” 

“I’m also better at volleyball.” “Alright. It’s not a competition.” He smirks at that “yes it is.” Another laugh escapes you and again Tsukishima looks taken off guard “What?” You ask, to which he looks away from you.

“Nothing. Just didn’t realize I was so funny.” You smile slightly. You think this was a record of how long you and he could be slightly nice to each other. “Yeah well don’t let it go to your head.” Echoing his words from the first time you walked together. 

Just like that, you reach your street. “How far down is your house?” The blonde boy turns his whole body to face you. You blink up at him “uh it’s about three houses down.” He nods then starts walking down your street. 

You stand, frozen at the corner. When he realizes you aren’t with him, Tsukishima turns around “Are you coming?” “Oh! Uh- yeah.” 

And so he walks you to your gate before giving you a sharp nod and turning on his heel to walk back to the corner. What a weird guy. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 7 - Paradiastole

A/N: Yes, John Shen is both chronically online and a theater kid. Paradiastole - The reframing of a vice or negative trait as a virtue

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You were being truthful when you told Abbot that you could take care of yourself. But…it was really nice to have him there. Now that you’ve recovered, the only thing you can think of anytime you see him is how his face looked in sleep. Relaxed in a way you’ve never seen, lines smoothed to a dreamless sleep. 

“Earth to Bennet.” Samira snaps her fingers lightly in front of you. “You good? You were zoned out for like five minutes.” Shaking your head to clear the fog from your brain, you offer a smile to the concerned women. 

“I’m good, Mira. Must be lingering sickness.” Her brow furrows “Do you need a break?” You wave your hand “No, no I’m alright.” Kiara calls your name and you give one last reassuring smile to Samira before heading off to where Kiara had popped her head out. 

The day passes as most days in the Pitt do. In a way that speaks to the merits of controlled chaos, people passing in and out of rooms like an intricate dance, and by the end of it you feel a deep satisfaction sinking into your bones. 

“It’s so weird.” Trinity mutters as she charts next to you “What's weird?” You ask, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. She flashes a grateful smile at you before replying “Abbot keeps showing up for his shift earlier and earlier.” Her head tilts towards where the attending is standing with Robby. 

He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Trinity glances between the two of you “Actually maybe I do know why he keeps coming early.” You shove her shoulder “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s probably just being a good doctor.” 

The woman rolls her eyes. “Yeah and I can fly.” “Are you implying Dr. Abbot is not a good doctor?” Trinity moves her chair back to properly look at you, leveling a glare in your direction “I am not saying that. He’s better than Doctor riding my ass over there.” She gestures towards Dr. Al-Hashimi “He even let me get away with that sick procedure during Pittfest.” 

You hum softly in reply, encouraging her to keep going “I think that he likes you.” The hum in your throat quickly turns into a cough “W-what?” Trinity grins “I said-” “Enough gabbing ladies, I’m sure we can find you something to do.” Dana breaks up the two of you with an affectionate smile. 

As you walk away, Abbot falls into step beside you “Scolded by Dana, Bennet? Thought you were better than that.” The crinkle of his eye tells you he’s joking. So you shrug a little “What can I say? I simply must rebel.” He laughs, deep in his chest and a spark goes through you. 

He nudges you “Rebel without a cause.” “Alright old man. Did you take the horse and buggy to see that one?” Abbot presses a hand to his chest “How old do you think I am?” You scrunch your nose up in amusement, pretending to think “At least 98?” 

The man next to you lets out another laugh, this time throwing his head back, drawing the attention of people around him. Including Robby. “Did you know James Dean’s front two teeth were fake?” 

Abbot raises his eyebrows “Really? Where’d you learn that?” “History.com” The laugh gets stronger and he has to pause to catch his breath. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You look at Abbot as the laughter fades from his face, “Sure, shoot.” Mulling the words over in your head you try to figure out the best way to ask the question “You’ve been coming earlier for your shifts?” 

Abbot smiles a little “I have.” There's a pause and you know he’s waiting for you to ask the second part of your question “Is everything…alright?” He pats you on the shoulder, firm and solid against your skin. “Yup, just figured I should be good at my job.” 

Your brow furrows a little and he softens “I’m fine, kid. Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” Goddamn him. Now all you can think about is the fact he called you pretty. “If you say so.” You murmur, and Abbot nods before getting pulled into a consult. You’re left standing in the middle of the Pitt with a warm buzz tingling up your skin. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Robby’s been acting weird. You suppose no weirder than normal but…he’s been hovering around you more? Sitting in on family consults and looking over your shoulder while you chart. It was fine for the first couple of days but at this point anytime you feel his eyes on you, it feels like you're walking on eggshells, just waiting for him to yell at you. 

A call of your name bounces across the busy central area and you glance up at Robby, hands buried in his pockets and face firm. You make a quick excuse to the patient in front of you and duck your head to avoid the curious gazes of the nurses and doctors as you pass by them. 

“Step outside with me for a moment.” It’s very obviously a demand so you step inside, trying not to freak out. Robby shuts the door behind him. “Is there an issue Robby? Because I made sure to triple check the Millers insurance, and I got Mrs. Robinson to accept a nurse into her house and-” 

Robby holds up his hand, and you cut yourself off. “I am not asking about a patient. I want to talk to you about Dr. Abbot.” That makes you fully stop “What about Dr. Abbot?” He runs a hand down his face, scrubbing at his beard.

“You and him…are friends, yes?” You blink at him, yes, you would consider Jack a friend. A friend you want to lick until he’s clean but a friend nonetheless. Nodding, you say “Yes, I think we’re friends.” Robby nods, looking like he severely regretted asking. 

“Right, ok. Jack is a handsome man. I will not argue with that. But I cannot emphasize enough that he is a giant flirt. Hell, that man has flirted with half the people in this hospital.” Jesus Christ. You want to crawl into a hole and die. You would bury yourself in sand and just let the tide wash over you. 

He sighs softly “Listen, he is a great guy. Just…I want you to be warned.” “I- I am not- I do not like what you’re implying! Dr. Robby, I am a very professional person and for you to say that I am flirting- that Dr. Abbot is flirting with me!?” 

Robby puts his hand up again “I am not implying that you are unprofessional. It is just a precaution.” You snap your jaw shut then run a hand through your hand through your hair.

“I appreciate your warning.” The words are stiff and suddenly the room is suffocating. You have to get out as quickly as possible.

You move past Robby and open the door, the lights of the ED too bright, and the noise too loud. “Dana!” The charge nurse glances up at you, brow furrowing when she sees the state you’re in. “You ok kid?” “Yeah, just need some air. If Kiara asks for me I’ll be in the loading bay.” 

Barely hearing her assent, you are able to catch your breath in the cool October air. Halloween is right around the corner, and Trinity has been insisting you and the others do a group costume. Something about 101 Dalmations? You weren’t sure. 

Another thing you weren’t sure about is why the conversation with Robby freaked you out so much. It didn’t bother you when Trinity joked about it. Maybe it’s because she was joking and Robby was insinuating. Acting like you were knowingly encouraging it.

So what if you were? As you think about it more and more, you just feel yourself getting upset. “Hey B. Whatcha doing?” And there, like an angel holding iced coffee, is John Shen. 

“John!” You hug him and he squeezes back, holding the coffee cup above your head “Careful! I don’t want coffee all over you. What's with the theatrics?” “Says the guy who does community theater.” He shrugs, “I know ball.” 

You laugh at his insane use of Gen Z slang. “Im just- Robby called me into his office and gave me like…a weird ass speech.” Shen wrinkles his nose “Gross. I hate those.” “Yeah. Yeah, it kind of freaked me out.” 

He claps you on the shoulder “Well, you get off soon right?” You nod and he nods too “You know what I’ve really been craving? Chocolate chip pumpkin bread.” He knows exactly what he’s doing, giving you something to focus on rather than spiraling. Rolling your eyes, you reply “Don’t you know you can get that at Trader Joes?” 

Shen scoffs “All the way in North Hills? No thanks.” You sigh “Fine. I’ll make it.” He smiles and claps your shoulder “Knew I could count on you. Now get back in there! Kick some ass!” He shoves you a little, and you glare at him over your shoulder. “I think you’re stalling before your shift.” 

His smile grows “Hey, you said it. It’s before my shift.” 

Though the conversation didn’t ease your mind completely, it did allow you to get through the rest of the shift without completely freaking out. As you are walking out to the car park, Abbot calls your name from the hospital entrance.

You turn to find him walking briskly to you, holding a cup “You almost forgot your tea.” “Oh. Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” He smiles “You’re off of work, you can call me Jack.” 

Staring down at the concrete, you really hope you aren’t as flushed as you feel “Thanks, Jack.” “Jack! Let's go!” Robby’s voice cracks through the air and Abbot rolls his eyes at you. “No rest for the wicked.” 

“Have a good shift.” You say softly and he waves as he walks back into the Pitt. Leaving you shivering against the rapidly approaching dusk. 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, @li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

Wasteland, Baby

Chapter 7 - Orion

Tanaka nudges you out of the way gently. “You don’t work here anymore girl.” You roll your eyes and continue chopping up the vegetables laid in front of you. “Then stop giving me things to cut.” 

It was a light day for you, Jin had been in mysterious meetings all day, leaving you nothing to do but wander around. So you had drifted back down to the kitchens and had been helping ever since the morning. 

“Did you hear that Lord Sukuna's nephew is coming to the castle?” You blink at Izumi, one of the newer cooks that replaced you. Tanaka snorts “Yes, I heard that. Apparently there is conflict in the other clans and the family thought it was safer for the child to be here. No wonder given who his uncle is.” 

You smile a little, leaning forward “I cannot imagine Sukuna as an uncle. He is so harsh I am sure any child would be scared off.” The other two women pause to look at you and you feel the smile slip a little “What? Did I say something wrong?” Tanaka scoffs, “You called that monster…Sukuna.” 

Oh. You did. You didn’t even realize it till she called it out. You suppose you had gotten so used to calling him Sukuna in your head it just…slipped out. “I meant Lord Sukuna, of course!” Izumi snorts, “Have you become infatuated with the King? If you play your cards right, my dear, you might be able to become a consort!” 

That thought makes you burst out laughing, and you throw a chopped carrot towards her, which she skillfully dodges “As if! Lord Sukuna would never even look at me twice if I was laid out on his bed like a consort.” You dramatically drape yourself across Tanaka's lap.

“I have heard that Lord Sukuna has not called upon any of his consorts in quite some time.” Izumi muses. Then you are pushed off Tanaka’s legs “Can we please get back to work? I would rather chop my fingers off then continue to speak about that bastard.” 

So dutifully, you return to your board. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The afternoon came and went, and after going to the bathing house, you collapse into your bed excited to relax for a few hours before you checked back in with Jin.

But your blissful break was interrupted when Sakaime bursts through your door, saying your name “Master Jin requires you immediately! Hurry up!” You huff but hop after her, struggling to put your shoes on. 

“Slow down!” You call, trying to catch up to the older woman. You arrive out of breath in Jin's chambers and Sakaime pushes the doors open. With a flash of pink hair, a small child bursts out of the room and straight into your legs. “Oh!” You look down at the very cute little boy who is clinging to your legs.

“Hello.” You coo softly, and the boy looks up at you offering a shy smile. “And who are you?” “That is my son, Yuji.” Jin comes out, looking more haggard than the last time you saw him. 

“Hi Yuji.” The pink haired child darts back to Jin's side, who absentmindedly picks him up. “Madam Sakaime said that you needed me?” Jin lets out a heavy sigh “My brother, lord knows what goes through his mind, has decided to visit the rebellious clans and will be gone for a time.” 

Panic lances through you as soon as the words escape his mouth. Gone? Just like that? You knew you were relatively unimportant but with the way he had been treating you, you thought he would’ve told you. How foolish.

Jin continues “So I will be taking over his duties and with my son here…I cannot do both. You will look after my son, yes?” Quickly, you nod. “Of course, I am more than willing.” The man in front of you gives a weak smile. “Wonderful.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The first week is…strange to say the least. After spending most of your days with either Jin or Sukuna, the transition to Yuji was disjointed. Thankfully, you found that you are able to keep Yuji relatively entertained most of the day with games and stories from your childhood on the farm. In fact, it took a whole day to get a jump rope for the boy because apparently no one in the palace had heard of such a thing. 

Yuji himself was a very sweet child, delighted in all new things and very good at asking very hard to answer questions such as: “Is uncle going to kill people?” and “How deep does the lake go?” Both concepts are hard and uncomfortable to explain to the child. 

The second week was even stranger. Jin is constantly sequestered in meetings with whispers flying about something big happening regarding the clans and specifically Sukuna. It causes you to grow even more worried about him. 

No one was telling you anything.

“Will you stop squirming?” Tanaka huffs as she lifts Yuji up to the counter. He had quickly become a favorite in the kitchen, all the cooks sneaking him small treats and food when they thought you weren't watching. Of course, it just amuses you how fast Yuji melted Tanaka's heart. You had never seen her fold to someone's will in as short a time as she has for Yuji. 

“You gave him too much sugar.” You say amused, sitting across from the pair. “I did no such thing.” Tanaka mutters, letting Yuji roll a small piece of dough. She looks up at you “I know you are a smart girl, but I don’t know about this.” “What do you mean?”  

She sighs “You seem to be very in deep with this family.” She sneers at the last word “It’s my job Tanaka.”  Yuji looks at you “You should stay!” That makes you smile a little and gesture at the boy “See? At least someone here likes me.” “Make sure you don’t get hurt.” Tanaka waves her rolling pin at you.

You know deep down she’s just worried about you, and a warmth fills your chest at her indirect care. You come around the side and squeeze her shoulder “I promise I will be very careful.” But as you say that, another thought creeps in: you might be past that point. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The halls are quiet at night. Servants usually in bed or gathered around tables in the furthest halls, drinking and gambling to forget their woes. Having just put Yuji to bed, which was a struggle because you were correct when you said Tanaka gave him too much sugar, you stop by Jin's office. 

“Do you need anything before I head to my room?” He glances up at the question, glasses askew and hair mussed in a way that tells you he was running his hand through it. 

Jin shakes his head “No, no. Go get some rest. One of us needs it.” You smile softly “Alright. Good night.” 

As soon as you turn down the way to your room, you feel a shift in the air. You can’t put a finger on it, but the back of your neck prickles with a warning you find hard to ignore. And you’ve been ignoring warning signs a lot lately. 

You slowly grow closer and closer to your door. 

Sukuna. There, leaning against the wall, is Sukuna. Eyes glowing dim in the dark. You rush towards him. “You’re back!? When- Are you alright??” Your hands hover over his chest, conscious of the fact that he might be hurt but still wanting to confirm he is actually in front of you. 

He grunts quietly “Open the door.” 

As soon as you open the door, he pushes inside and collapses onto your bed. It would be comical, seeing the giant king in a bed meant for one woman but that is not at the forefront of your mind. 

What is is the fact that there are deep copper stains splattered on his robes. “Are you hurt!?” You reach for his robes, intent on helping, when he grabs your hand his thumb pressed into your pulse point.

“It is not mine.” Oh. Joy. Now there is the blood of who knows how many people staining your sheets. Perhaps you should be more worried about the fact that Sukuna just admitted that he killed people but the relief that he is unharmed surpasses it. 

“Well, could you get out of them anyways. You are ruining my sheets.” His face scrunches up in a look of distaste but you are not bending to his will on this. “Up.” You tug on his arm, which doesn't do much. 

But then he sits up, sheds his robe and hands it to you before laying back onto your bed. “There. Satisfied?”

You huff but he did listen to you. Turning to your cabinet, you fold the fabric into something for tomorrow's self to manage “You know, you could’ve told me you were going to be-” You turn around, feeling the frustration you pushed aside at the beginning of this ordeal making a return with a vengeance only to find Sukuna already asleep.

“Good lord.” Muttering to yourself, you grab another blanket, certain yours wouldn’t be enough for the man. 

After making sure he will be alright, you lay out your last blanket on the floor and fold one of your kimonos into a makeshift pillow and lay down on the floor. 

You resign yourself to a sleepless night, content to just listen to him breathe. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

Wasteland, Baby

Chapter 6 - Pillars Of Creation

One would assume Sukuna isn’t very…smart. Especially if someone gets far enough into the palace to see his royal highness, his muscles would take up most of the attention. 

But Sukuna is smart. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t have been in power for so long. You can see that now as you are back in his chambers since that first run in with him. You shudder to remember it. 

The colors in front of you settle something inside. A carefully organized palette of shades that brings some control into your life where it has been sorely lacking. You press your palms onto one of the new kimonos you had been recently gifted, given shortly after you agreed to this foolish idea. 

“Are you ready?” The king asks from behind a thin screen. You can see his large shadow loom. “Yes, my Lord. Though Jin- " "Tch. You’ve gotten far too comfortable with that man.” 

You roll your eyes, safe in the fact that he can’t see you. “May I point out you were the one who put me in his service.” “You may not.” Sukuna replies. 

He emerges from behind the screen, clad in only a silken robe. Which allows you to get an eyeful of his huge chest, and his very very toned stomach. You immediately glue your eyes to the blank canvas in front of you. 

“Do you want me to pose?” You don’t need to look up at him to know for a fact that he is smirking. “Whatever feels comfortable.” You mutter back. The shifting of fabric fills the space for a moment before it falls quiet again.

“You may start.” Stealing yourself, you glance at Sukuna. He’s lounging across his throne, the fabric falling away, an expanse of skin on display. “Is that truly how you want your royal portrait to be?” You hear the exasperation in your tone. 

“I am King. Who are you to critique me?” He scoffs, rolling his four eyes. “I am just…commenting.” “Just paint, woman.” 

An hour passes in silence. Which is broken by Sukuna sighing dramatically. “Is there an issue, my Lord?” Putting down your paintbrush, you fix him with a stare. “I am starving.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, a flurry of servants rush in with trays upon trays of food. 

“Does that happen often?” His face breaks into a wide grin at the question “All the time.” He stretches off the throne and gracefully settles by the low table. Without even looking at you, Sukuna crooks two fingers in your direction. 

Cautiously you slide across from him. “Is this allowed?” “Must you ask so many inane questions?” He asks through a mouthful of food. “Did your mother never teach you manners?”

His hands pause at that. The room grows significantly colder. “No.” The reply is tense, like for a moment the string could snap and it would all be over for you. “My mother died. Soon after I was born.” 

A wave of guilt crashes over you. You really didn’t mean to bring up painful memories for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Sukuna scoffs “How could you have?” Shrugging a little in response, you start eating. Mainly to give your hands something to do. After a brief moment of silence, Sukuna clears his throat “And your family?” 

“What about them?” You ask cautiously. Perhaps it was a ploy of some kind. His eyes narrow like he knows what you are thinking “I am simply wondering if you have any. Surely you didn’t just appear in my castle.” 

“Ah, my family are farmers. I left home at fourteen to search for a job, my brother had recently passed and it was a need for income that led me here. I send the money I make back to my family.” 

“That is very…noble of you.” Sukuna says, eyes focused somewhere far away. “Have you been back to visit them?” You shake your head in reply “No, no rest for the wicked.” You smile, trying to lighten the mood a little. It obviously doesn't work when he fixes you with a firm stare “Believe me. You are not wicked.” 

The smile on your face softens “Thank you, my Lord.” You finish eating in silence, the clink of utensils against porcelain filling the large room. 

“Let’s keep going. I don’t have all day to waste.” He snaps, standing up to his full height. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

About a week passes, each morning spent carefully capturing Sukuna's image. Which gives you the chance to study him, as you’ve been wanting, but that has come with a host of other issues. Dreams, to be exact. Very…intense dreams, involving him slamming your door open and ripping your clothes off you. 

Dreams that make you wake up hot and flushed, dreams that have you taking several minutes to compose yourself. It’s very distracting in your opinion. 

Low light filtered through the hallway as you walked towards Sukuna’s bedchambers. Normally you would be finished by now, having started painting in the morning but today was different. Sukuna had meetings all day, which he had grumbled about all through your session yesterday.

A part of you hoped it was because he wouldn’t be able to see you, but you aren’t naive enough to truly entertain the thought. 

Voices drift towards you, making you pause. Surely the meetings were done by now? You stop just outside the doors. “This is ridiculous! Whose business is it who I consort with?” Sukuna's voice cracks through the air and you flinch back even though it is not directed towards you.

You had never heard him so angry. A murmur of voices, too low to clearly hear, respond and he lets out a snarl. A crash of objects quickly follows. “My King! You have a duty to this kingdom-” “GET OUT!” 

Two advisors stumble out, freezing when they see you standing directly in their path. Remembering the order of things, you bow low to the ground. They sneer as they pass, muttering to themselves. 

A call of your name snaps you back to attention and you move to the doorway. “I can come back tomorrow, my Lord.” Sukuna is pacing up and down in the middle of what looks like a carriage wreckage. Wood splinters across the floor and the same porcelain you would eat on is now in pieces around the room. 

“Why would I want you to come back tomorrow!? Are you stupid?” You assume this is not a question you should be answering. “Ignorant, arrogant, useless!” Sukuna turns his angry red gaze onto you, and you take a step back expecting something to be thrown at your head. 

Nothing comes prepares you for the way he freezes in place, blinking at you. 

“Are you…alright?” You mumble and he gestures for you to come in. So against the alarm bells going off in your head, you step around the scattered remains of his room. Sukuna slumps onto his bed, glaring past you. 

“My Lord?” You try again and his gaze lands on you, heavy with unspoken emotion. “I thought I told you to stop asking stupid questions.” He snaps back but it is not the same tone as you heard before. This is brittle, weaker at the edges. Though if you hadn’t been spending so much time with him, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

Deciding to try a different tactic, you settle next to him. He sneers “Aren’t you supposed to be painting?” “I will in a moment. I’ve had a terribly long day, would you mind if I relaxed?” 

He stares at you then nods, just slightly “Fine. But just for a minute.” So you sit there. In silence. Until… “Humans are foolish.” You stifle back a smile, you didn’t want to scare him off. “They think they know what is best. They question me and my judgement. I ought to snap their necks, all of them.” 

“All of them?” You ask softly “Yes! All of them, broken beneath me.” An almost manic gleam enters his eyes. You let out a low whistle “Sounds like a lot of work.” “Not for me.” He mutters, then sighs “Perhaps I would spare you. I could use someone to capture the mystique of my destruction of the human race.” 

A quiet laugh slips out of your mouth. “I don’t know if I would like that. If I am being honest.” “When are you not?” He snarks “Perhaps instead you and I would travel somewhere no other humans exist. Then we would be left to our own devices.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the exact moment Sukuna seems to register what he said. Stiffing, he glances at you “It’s been more than a minute. Move!” You scramble to get off the downy bed and quickly gather your paints. The idea of leaving all this behind with Sukuna still buzzing in the back of your mind. 

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 6 - Meiosis

A/N: Meiosis - The presentation of a thing with underemphasis especially in order to achieve a greater effect (Also a biology thing but not that one!!)

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Kissing you would’ve been bad. That is the one thing that Jack has been trying (key word: trying) to convince himself of for the whole entire week. Through GSW’s and broken bones and coughs and colds, the one constant thought was the shape of your lips in the low light of the ballroom. 

Which is followed by the immediate crushing of that thought. It would have been bad. 

The times he had seen you after the ‘almost kiss’ as he has dubbed it in his head, it’s been perfunctory little waves and small greetings plus the obvious coffee and tea. It's been fine. Jack's been fine. 

“Hey jackrabbit.” Dana smiles over the computer in front of her. He glances up at the board and lets out a low whistle “Messy today.” Dana sighs in response. “Yeah, a nasty flu took out about half our nurses.” 

“I’m sure Robby was so excited about that.” The flat tone in Jack's voice makes Dana laugh “Well, now it’s your problem. Oh, also, that sweet girl,” She says your name and Jack perks up “What about her?” 

Dana puts her hand up “Slow down. I just figured you’d want to know that she also caught the bug and won't be delivering your coffee for a day or two.” 

A lance of concern shoots through him, much stronger than he expected. “Did she say if she was ok?” “She’s doing alright, Dr. Abbot. Last time I checked in she was asleep and that was around 5 so…” Mel pops up next to him with a sunny smile.

“Do you know if she’s eaten, did she take any medicine, does she have someone there with her?” Mel blinks against the onslaught of questions “Um…I don't know, I don't know, and no. I believe she lives alone.” 

Jack takes a deep breath. It’s not Dr. King's fault that she doesn’t know anything beyond the surface level, she’s been busy working and probably doesn’t have time to check in. 

“Multiple car pile up! We need hands!” Dana’s voice rings out. Jack reacts without thinking, grabbing the first gurney that comes through the door and pushing any thoughts about you out of the way. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was one after the other of hard cases and people barely making it back from the edge. But at the end of the night, Jack was confidently able to say that his team was one of the best out there. He came away from the Pitt with a buzz of adrenaline. 

Which is what brings him to your apartment. 

Jack really didn’t mean to drive to your place. But he had the address still in his car, and after he completed handoff all thoughts of you returned and he had an insane need to see you. To make sure you were ok. 

He looks up at the building, suddenly realizing that he has no clue which apartment is yours. And judging by the height of the building, and the windows, there's at least 150 apartments to guess from. Shit. 

<<Are you awake? This is Dr. Abbot btw

Jack immediately shuts off his phone. Then turns it back on, staring at the blinking cursor in the message bar.

Hi Dr. Abbot, I just woke up>>

Scrambling, he hastily types out 

<<Shit sorry. Have you eaten?

No I haven’t.>>

<<Don’t be weirded out. What apartment are you?

You’re right Dr. Abbot why would I be weirded out by that>>

I’m in Apt 97>>

Grabbing the food from the diner right down the street from PTMC out of his front seat, Jack locks his car door and heads up. 

He’s dead, Jack has died and gone to some place very very bad because you are standing in front of him with a thin tank top and sweatpants that show just enough to see the curve of your hips. He must be dead.

“Jack?” “H-Hi kid, how's it going?” You glare at him, your eyes much duller than he’s used too. You’re also holding onto the door frame, probably for support “Going like shit. I feel like I want to die.” 

Smiling, he holds up the food bag “I bring gifts.” It takes a moment for the bag to register but once it does, you step back and allow him in. “No snooping.” You mutter flopping back onto the couch that's a nest of blankets. The TV is on some sitcom he hasn’t watched. 

“I would never.” He replies, setting the food down on the counter. “But I will need to know where your plates are.” You wave at the cabinet over the stove. “Ah.” He places two plates down and starts plating. 

Keeping his eyes firmly on the plates, Jack gently sets one down in front of you alongside a tall glass of water. “Do you need Advil?” You blink up at him, eyes unfocused. He pressed his hand to your forehead, trying to ignore the traitorous thump of his heart as you lean into his palm. 

Jesus. You’re burning up. “Alright kid, I'm going to get some medicine for you, yeah?” “Mm.” Placing your head back onto the pile of pillows, the noise you let out is one that Jack has to take as an affirmative. 

After rifling around in your medicine cabinet, he comes back out with the small bottle. “I'm gonna need you to swallow these ok?” “Ok.” You sit up slowly, holding out a hand. He watches you swallow hoping it doesn't come off as creepy. 

Nodding, he then feels it's safe enough to set the food in front of you, to which you scrunch up your nose. “You’re doing so good, you just gotta eat this so you can rest.” That seems to get you to eat, which makes Jack feel better. 

He half watches you and half watches the TV as you continue to eat. He is starting to feel the fatigue that constantly pulls at his bones but chooses to ignore it in favor of you. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” Your eyes are clearer now, still focused on the now clean plate. “Sure I did. We’re short staffed enough.” It’s a weak excuse, even to his ears. Too thin and too tired to hold any weight but you don’t call him out on it. Instead letting out a yawn.

“I’m…going to take a nap.” You mumble, gesturing to where he assumes your room is. “Alright, I’ll clean up.” He stands, trying not to wince as his prosthetic throbs in protest. “And then you’ll go home right?” You ask, following his lead.

“Once I clean up, sure.” Jack does not plan on going home. What if you need him? Narrowing your eyes you take a step towards him “Why don’t I believe you?” He takes your shoulders and redirects you towards your room. “Bennet. Get some sleep.”

With a huff, you follow his directions. Quietly, he starts cleaning. Throws the blankets into your washing machine, cleans the dirty dishes in the sink, and even gets the chance to look at some very cute family photos. Your home is just that, a home. With little signs of you crammed into every corner.

A half finished puzzle of New York in autumn on the dining room table, a shelf full of records with vinyls he deems as respectable. Plus lots and lots of baking books, from cakes to cookies you seemed to have it all covered. His place is so bland in comparison, Jack feels a lot more comfortable surrounded by your clutter, for reasons he does not want to unpack now.  

After he finishes cleaning, he sets aside his leg and breathes out in relief. The pain finally dulling to a low level, he allows himself to sink back onto the cushions and close his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Jack. Jack!” He sits upright fast. You stumble back a little, surprised. Shit, he forgot that the way he wakes up, from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds could be a little surprising to people. “Sorry. What’s wrong?” Jack tries to stand, then remembers another crucial thing he forgot. His fucking leg.

He sits back down again with a frustrated sigh, reaching for the prosthetic. “Your alarm is going off.” You grumble as you hand it to him. “Jack. You were supposed to go home! I told you to go home!” 

Your hair is mussed on the side, from where he assumes you were laying on it. A thought rises unbidden to the front of his mind: what if he was able to see you like this everyday? “Jack!” You say, sharply “What if you needed something?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Huffing, you sit next to him. Immediately he presses a hand to your forehead. Cooler, good. “I would’ve been fine.” “But what if you weren’t?” You fix him with a look “I could’ve handled it. I've been alone and sick before, it’s nothing new.” Jack almost feels like shouting at you that You shouldn’t have to go through that! I can take care of you! Let me take care of you!!

But of course, that would be crazy. Instead he just says “You don’t have to be alone.” 

“You have to go to work.” Your tone is softer now, and you reach for his hand giving it three solid squeezes “How about I text you when I eat dinner, and when I go to sleep. Just in case.” Jack nods “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea kid.” 

Standing, you open your front door “Thanks, I have those sometimes.” He laughs, just happy that you feel well enough to joke. “Swear you’ll text me.” It's less of a question, more of a demand but Jack doesn't care enough to walk it back. 

“I swear.” The flush of your cheeks is the last thing he sees as you close your door. 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, @li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple

Chapter 5 - Amphiboly

A/N: Finals season has been kicking my ass. I apologize for the slow uploads but on we go!!! Amphiboly: a sentence, phrase, or argument has multiple meanings due to its grammar, word order, or punctuation

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Right. Ok. You glance down at the video playing on your phone again and squint. Shit, how did she do…that? You twist your hair again and sigh as you look in the mirror.

“Are you almost ready??” Trinity bangs on the bathroom door before busting in and pausing “What is happening with your hair?” “I don't know!” You throw up your hands “I can’t do it like she does.”

Trinity is in PJs. She had offered her house to get ready at because you really needed the moral support. This was your first banquet and everyone important will be there and you were freaking out. 

She sighs “Come here.” You turn towards her and she shakes her head “You don’t have the same hair she does. How about we do this instead?” She scrolls on her phone before showing you a much easier hairstyle.

“Alright. I trust you.” What follows is lots of tugging and pulling on her part and gritting of teeth on yours. But when you turn to the mirror, you see someone…different from your normal self.

Trinity lets out a low whistle “Damn girl. Smash.” You laugh “Thanks, I do look good don’t I?” “Very good.” She confirms. “Let's go show everyone!” 

Whitaker and Victoria are tangled together on the couch, scrolling on TikTok while Mel occasionally chimes in with an opinion. Samira is in Trinity’s room, also getting ready. 

“Bennet! You look so good!” Javadi squeals, shooting up and spinning you around. “You really do.” Mel smiles “But you won’t be cold right?” The dress Trinity and Samira had helped pick out had a low open back that was…a little outside of your comfort zone but you can’t deny it was a good choice.

“I have a shawl.” You reply, and Mel nods satisfied. “And your hair! Did Trinity do it?” Javadi skirts her hands around your head, careful not to touch the carefully placed strands. “She’s a miracle worker.” 

Trinity took Victoria's spot and smiled smugly “I know, what can I say?”  “Can anyone help me with this zipper?” Samira walks out in a deep amethyst dress, with her hair in loose waves around her shoulders, she looked like a painting. 

Everyone immediately clammers around her. You help zip her up as she smiles at the compliments “Now let me see you.” She turns towards you and smiles “Wow. You clean up very nicely.” “Why thank you. So do you.” 

A long honk sounds outside and you all startle. “Well,” Samira laughs, “You ready to go?” 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You had to hand it to Gloria, she went all out. A sleek black limo is parked outside the apartment complex and Mckay is hanging out the door, “Hurry up! I don’t think the driver likes us very much.”

Samira and you climb into the backseat laughing as Mckay explains how Langdon had spilled apple cider onto the floor five minutes into the drive. 

Joy and Emma are pressed together on one side, representing the “newest generation of hospital workers” to quote Gloria. Their heads are bent low, Joy's hand is on Emma's thigh but they look up to greet the two of you. 

And there, sitting across from Mckay, is Abbot. Wearing a sleek matte black suit, legs spread casually like he was completely comfortable.  

Samira nudges you “You’re staring.” She whispers and your eyes snap back to her. Shit, you can’t help but stare when he looks like that. “I was just zoning out.” Samira snorts softly, “Yeah right.” 

Abbot waves slightly and you wave back before Emma drags you into a conversation about the perfume you were wearing. 

Outside the event space, people wait outside in beautiful gowns and tuxedos. As you climb out, you let out a noise of surprise at the man that has appeared before you, holding out his hand. “Dr. Abbot!” “Need some help?” He asks, eyes gleaming in amusement. 

“Oh yes, um, please.” You take his hand, which is solid and firm against yours. Somehow, maybe because the universe hates you, when you climb out of the car you are pressed against his side. 

“Did I tell you you look beautiful?” His voice is directly in your ear, strumming up your spine like a bass. Fuck. Fuck. You freeze, and he steps back laughing to himself. Asshole. 

Your hand smooths down the cool satin of your dress. Huffing you step past him “Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” He follows close behind “What? No compliments for me?” Pausing, you let him catch up to you “I don’t think your ego needs it.” “Whats the point of an ego if it is not being fed?” 

He holds the door open for you, your group already dispersed amongst the crowd of wealthy socialites. Gloria immediately snatches Abbot up, dragging him away from you and towards a gaggle of men. It feels colder without him, until you look up and realize you are standing right under a vent. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

By the time the clock hit 11 PM, you were very ready to be home. Your heels are starting to dig into your feet and you’ve had one too many men brush past you, touching the bare skin of your back. 

And no one was very exciting to talk too. Except of course, your colleagues who every time gathered together with more amusing stories and quips before being broken up by Gloria again.

You sigh softly as you lean against the bar, waiting for your drink. Langdon and Mckay are dancing, though obviously not taking it seriously. Mckay is spinning Langdon around so much, he looks dizzy. 

Emma and Joy, who have stuck together throughout the event, are talking with a very elegant looking older woman who is laughing delightedly and Abbot is- 

“Looking for someone?” Jesus, Abbot is right behind you. 

You grip your chest, glaring at him “Give a girl some warning first!” “Sorry.” He replies, obviously not very apologetic. He sits next to you, shucking his suit jack off, leaving his very broad shoulders on display. 

“Are you enjoying your first gala?” You hum softly “It's alright. I understand how it can get tiring year after year.” Abbot nods, opening his mouth to respond when a man taps you on the shoulder.

He’s probably around seventy years old, with very very white teeth. Almost plastic looking. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if a beautiful lady such as yourself wanted to dance?” 

A laugh slips awkwardly out of you, and you shake your head “Oh, I'm sorry. I’m all danced out.” He scoffs a little, spit landing on your shoulder. “I am sure you are not. It’s polite to dance with a man who asks, you know.” 

“I- Well, my feet are killing me. I wouldn’t be a very good partner.” The man leers at you “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” 

Abbot's chair scrapes against the ballroom floor. “Listen man.” His voice is cold and hard. “She said no, so back off.” The older man stutters “Who do you think you are? Her boyfriend?” 

Abbot glances at you, you blink back at him. He faces the man again and he places a hand on your shoulder. “I am, actually. I don’t appreciate you bothering my girlfriend.” 

The other man stares for a moment before turning away, wandering over to another group of women. 

“Are you alright?” Abbot asks, pulling your chair out a little and tilting your face up. Your cheeks burn a little, and a part of you wishes you were still underneath that vent. 

“Fine!” You squeak out “I am totally fine!” Abbot hums, “What an asshole. You seem to attract them.” “Is that a good thing?” He scoffs, a sharp sound “No.” 

“I feel bad. You keep having to rescue me.” He shakes his head “I don’t mind, it's kind of fun.” You laugh softly, embarrassment still shimmering under the surface. “Ugh, he was like three times my age.” “You aren’t into older guys?”  Abbot's voice is almost tentative.

 Oh. Oh, how do you answer that? It feels wrong to say no because well…the man in front of you, with his silver hair and wrinkles around his eyes is older than you. And for some reason you don’t mind him.

“I mean…not seventy year olds.” Smoothing down your dress, you don’t look up at Abbot. He chuckles softly, ducking his head down to meet your gaze again “That I can understand.” 

For a brief moment, everything melts away. The gala, the old man, the sting in your heels, all gone as you sink into Jack's hazel eyes. They sparkle with a warmth you felt all the way down to your toes. 

A thought floats into your head: You want to kiss him. Like, really badly.

“Ready to go party people!” Langdon claps Abbot on the shoulder and he immediately stiffens, sitting straight up, and breaking eye contact with you. The moment is over, and you shake the absolutely insane thoughts that were in your head. 

Absolutely insane. 

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TAGLIST: @ilovechaiandyogurt, li22ie2017

[spencerreidmymannnn]

All The Little Things

Description: You work in the PTMC gift shop and after an emergency that requires your specific talents is handled, you find yourself intrigued by a very intimidating doctor. female!reader x trinity santos.

WC: 2.5K

A job was hard to come by in the city of Pittsburgh, you had been searching for months. Multiple places never got back to you, several had you interview but didn’t follow up after that and exactly two let you get all the way to the final step before deciding they didn’t want you.

So, here you were. In the PTMC gift shop, working the cash register. It wasn’t a terrible gig by any means. Enough to pay the bills at least. But you had really imagined a more…glamorous future after college. 

“If you want something nice, we have stuffed animals over in that section. There's also puzzles if she likes that.” You point to the section where beady eyes watch you day in and day out. The woman rubs her tired eyes again and wanders towards the stuffed lions. 

God, this job was so depressing sometimes. You shudder to imagine what it must be like as a doctor or a nurse, having the lives of these peoples families in your hands. Scary. Downright terrifying. 

The woman comes back with a card and a stuffed pink rabbit. Smiling softly, you ring her up and wish her luck with the rest of the day. It made you feel somewhat better then you were providing things that brought people comfort. Well, maybe it wasn’t you that brought people comfort exactly but instead the items-

“I need a sweatshirt. Or something. Now!” A woman you presume is a doctor strides up to you, tugging her stethoscope away from her neck. Splattered across her scrubs is what appears to be copious amounts of blood. 

“Oh! Follow me.” “This is fucking typical, Huckleberry must be rubbing off on me.” The woman - Dr. Santos - her badge reads mutters she follows you. You aren’t sure if it's a joke or something so you don’t respond, simply pointing to the rack of PTMC sweatshirts. 

“Great, thanks.” Dr. Santos says, though her tone is still vaguely sarcastic. “I don’t have to pay for this right?” Your boss might be upset but you suppose it is an emergency. “Uh, no. No, on the house.” 

She smiles and you are suddenly struck by just how pretty she is. “Great, today's been shit so I appreciate that.” You frown “That sucks. What, uh, what happened?” You really want her to stay and talk. 

Dr. Santos waves a hand “Ugh, this guy had an interior bleed that got all over me.” “Is he ok?” She blinks like she hadn't thought about that part “Oh he’s fine. I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.” 

“Santos! You got people waiting for you!” Dana pops in, and you wave a little. You recognize her from the smoke breaks. She offers you a small smile then fixes a pointed gaze on the dark haired woman. 

‘Kill me’ Dr. Santos mouths at you before turning on her heel and marching towards Dana. You sink back into your spot behind the counter. The rest of the day, you feel lighter. Huh weird. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Usually, a hospital gift shop is pretty quiet but today people were in and out almost non stop. All of them looked haggard and stressed, which, you didn’t blame them. 

Finally getting a chance to breathe, you take the opportunity to reorganize a couple sections then try to complete the NYT crossword. A tap on the counter breaks you from your internal musings. 

Looking up, you find Dr. Santos shuffling her feet in front of you and holding a coffee cup. Immediately, you straighten your posture. “Dr. Santos! No blood today?” Her dark eyes snap to yours, and she sighs “Only inside the patients.” 

“Well that is the place for it to be.” She smiles a little at the quip then places the coffee in front of you “It’s a thank you. For the sweatshirt.” Your heart picks up a little. 

“Thank you! You didn’t have to do that, Dr. Santos.” “Trinity.” You blink at the doctor. “What?” “My name is Trinity, you don’t have to call me Dr. Santos.” 

Silence settles between you as those words land. “I- Thank you, Trinity, for the coffee.” Her name rolls off your tongue far too easily for having just met her a couple days ago. A middle aged woman steps inside and you wave in greeting.

“You guys are busy today.” Trinity remarks, causing you to focus very intently on the grain of the counter as you mumble “Not as busy as you guys.” She laughs slightly and it pleases you enough to meet her gaze. “Yeah being a doctor is…not for the weak.” 

“I really don’t like seeing people's insides.” You smile. “You should meet Crash- Sorry, Victoria Javadi. She’s another doctor but on her first day as an intern, she fainted.” She smiles, a mischievous gleam entering her eye. 

Laughing, you reply “Sounds like something I would do.” “You know, we all get together after our shift sometimes. Would you want to join us?”

 A part of you worries about having so little in common with the doctors that would be there, but a stronger part of you whispers that this might be the only chance to see Trinity outside of work. So you find yourself saying “Sure!” “Great, let me give you my number so I can text you the address.”

As she’s typing on your phone, you take a risk “If you wanted my number so badly you could’ve just asked.” Trinity glances up at you, handing your phone back “I think I just did.” She turns on her heel but not before throwing a wink your way.

You let out a giddy laugh once she disappears into the bustle of the ER and mentally sort through your wardrobe to figure out what to wear. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The bar is crowded. Understandable for a Friday night, people spill out of the door where you wait by occasionally, laughing amongst themselves. Checking your phone again, Trinity is about 40 minutes late. 

Chewing on the hangnail by your thumb, you shoot off another text asking where she is when you hear a call of your name, “Sorry! How long were you waiting?” Trinity is still in scrub pants, but she’s obviously changed her top. It’s a deep red that brings out the color of her hair. 

“Uh- Wow, um, not long!” She smiles “Good! This is Huckleberry-” “Dennis.” The mousy looking man behind her pipes up, and she shoots him a glare “Huckleberry. And this is Crash-” “Victoria!”

You smile, amused “Should I be worried about what nickname you could give me?” Trinity grabs your arm and tugs you into the bar “After tonight? Definitely.” 

Maybe you expected something different from doctors but when the third round of white tea shots that Trinity grabbed from the bar made its way over to the table, you were thoroughly impressed by your companions.

“Wait, tell her again how many times you got something spilled on you your first day!” Trinity cackles at the look on Dennis’s face, you join in with her feeling looser then you have in awhile. Dennis finally cracks a smile and the laughter increases around the table ten fold.

“OMG!! I love this song!” Victoria shoots up and reaches for the both of you, “Come on, come on, come on. Dennis? Can you watch our stuff?” “Fine but only for ten minutes. Then I'm joining you.” 

The heat of everyone around you should’ve made you feel boxed in but as soon as Trinity places a hand on your waist all that slips away. 

“You look really good tonight! Did I tell you that?” She shouts in your ear. “No, but I don’t mind hearing it now.” Her hand grips your waist tighter, you step closer. Bold, which you assume she would like. 

Trinity grins wider, so you give yourself a mental pat on the back for assuming correctly. “I have work tomorrow.” You pout a little, and she throws her head back “Yeah? So do I!” “I know, you’re gonna have a killer headache.” 

But your words get lost over the music, so you just relax into the bass of each song that comes on. 

Eventually, you all stumble out of the bar and into the cool night air. You hug both Victoria and Dennis, happy to have found fun people in them. Then it's just you and Trinity, bathed in the neon glow of the bar sign.

“My rides almost here.” You murmur, checking the uber again. She nods and for a moment you think this was just an outing with friends. That she didn’t really like you like that. That maybe you should evaluate your gayder.

But then she steps into your space. She’s gently cupping your face and pressing her very soft lips onto yours.

She tastes like the sugary drinks she was knocking back.

You both somehow stumble against the brick building and Trinity bites your lip gently, getting you to open your mouth to her. Her perfume surrounds you both, something dark and ambery. 

Your uber driver lying on the horn broke you both out of the spell and she laughs, flipping her hair a little. “He is so pissed.” Catching your breath seems to take forever and you are still trying to fight against the lightness in your head as you lean back against the cool leather of the uber. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Two days. 

Two days since Trinity kissed you. Two days of no text messages, no greetings in the hallway, you’ve even seen her deliberately skirt around the sight line of the gift shop. Which, like…ouch. 

You don’t even know what you did wrong. A part of you wants to ask Victoria or Dennis but you don’t really know them like that. 

So here you are, stuck in a weird limbo. Just trying to get through the day. 

As you are helping a little girl pick out a coloring book for her and her sister to do when she wakes up, you spot Trinity walking after a taller woman, also in scrubs. 

You watch as she grabs the other doctor's hand. Then continue to watch as the doctor rips it away. Oh, that's why she was ghosting you. You were a distraction. Something to take her mind off of what is clearly a lovers quarrel.

Shit. Shame, anger, and disgust all swirl together to create a confusing cocktail of emotions. 

There was one thing you know. You would not be some fucking rebound. Pushing your anger to the side for a moment, you check out the little girl and her father offering her a lollipop from behind the counter. 

When you look up again, Trinity and that doctor are gone. Good. You needed time to think. 

It got quiet around 4 PM, both in the gift shop and in the hospital. So you figured this was your chance to confront her. 

She was standing in front of the board, bouncing on her feet. Walking straight up to her, you say “Can we talk?” Trinity startles, like she didn’t expect to see you ever again.

Her brow furrows “Oh, uh…I’m kind of busy.” “No you aren’t.” You retort, “We are going to talk.” You walk past her and out into the stairwell. She drags her feet after you.

Once you hear the door close, the silence echoes up into the ascending floors. “Well? What is it?” Her tone is tense. You whirl on her “What is it? Were you ever going to tell me that you had a girlfriend? Who works here!? Or were you just gonna ghost me and expect me not to ask questions. Do you think I’m stupid?”

She opens her mouth to respond but you hold up your hand, “I don’t need some fucking excuse. I just wanted to let you know it was really fucking shitty of you to do that. I’m not some pity kiss or whatever the fuck I was.” 

You turn on your heel, not giving her enough time to defend herself. 

Once you were firmly back behind the counter, you realized you had another two hours of being in the Pitt. A place you really did not want to be in at that moment, but you were proud of yourself for speaking up. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Every day after that you dread going into the Pitt. Dreaded the fact that you might see her that day. You didn’t really love your job before but everything that has happened made each shift feel like a slog through molasses.

Checking the clock again, you decide you deserve a trip to the vending machine and maybe a bathroom break. You head to the bathroom first, just so you don’t have to bring a snack into the bathroom. Unsanitary. 

But just as you are splashing water onto your face, a sound catches your attention from one of the stalls. A small catch of breath, and a sniff of the nose. Was someone crying? 

A tug in your chest makes you step up to the stall. “Hey…um, I'm sorry if this is a bit impolite…but are you ok?” You ask softly, staring at the cool white of the door. A soft curse comes from behind the door and it swings open. Trinity standing in front of you with red rimmed eyes.

She steps past you to the sink “Excuse me.” Her voice is flat. Shit, you know you're supposed to be mad at her but…”Are you ok?” Trinity scoffs softly at the question. 

“I mean I know I’m kind of the wrong person to be asking that but-” She turns to you “I need to talk. You cannot interrupt me.” You blink at her, her voice still weavering “Alright. Jeez.” 

Trinity breathes out “I am not dating Garcia. The doctor you saw me talking to. I was…We had a thing. And now it’s over, and the conversation you saw between me and her was her being jealous-” 

Her voice grows louder and she cuts herself off “Fucking Dennis let it slip that I kissed you, and Garcia got pissed. Even though we had broken it off like a month before that.” She presses her palms to her eyes, then lowers them to meet your gaze. 

“I like you. I do, and I’m sorry that I hurt you by not telling you about my fucked dating history in this place, and if that makes you not want to…try…with me, then it would really suck but…” She shrugs “I would get it.” 

Wow. You take in the speech and Trinity watches you expectantly. 

Something inside says that you should forgive her. After all, what's the harm in trying? 

“Would you want to get dinner after your shift?” At the question, her whole face lights up and she pulls you into a hug “I would love too.” As you pull back, you notice her eyes are shining in the bathroom light. 

“What's wrong!?” You ask, you thought she was happy. “I’m fine!” She sniffs softly, with a small smile, "I'm just…really excited to get dinner.” 

You pull her back into another hug, this time with her being a little stiffer before melting into you. “Yeah. Me too.”