#《med shot》
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TW/CW: nudity of minors (not sexual!), all characters (except the teacher) are in high school
KEY TAGS: spoiler-free/pre-canon, female reader (afab and themes of womanhood), second pov (reader's pov), meet-cute, fluff, strangers to ???
WORD COUNT: 6202
CROSS POST: ao3
OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it! reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated :>
SUMMARY: "'So…' you trail off, shutting the door behind you, 'How should I do this? Do you have a certain pose in mind or…?'
The blue-haired painter (painter-in-training?) turns to you, 'Well, in order to start, it would be best if you began taking off your clothes.'
'E-excuse me!?'"
Or where Kitagawa Yusuke needs a nude model, and you unknowingly sign up.
“Why don’t you just get a job?” your friend, Yanai Toshiko, points out the most obvious solution to your money problem while chewing in one side of her mouth, “It’s pretty easy these days. All you have to do is take a magazine from the job stand in Shibuya Station, look for a job that interests you, and call them up.”
“Right, and,” your other friend, Akagawa Yokkako, takes a moment to swallow her food before continuing, “if you tell them you’re a Kosei High student, they will most definitely hire you.”
“But that’s so much work!” you groan loudly, burying your head in your arms on the table and then lifting your head up high enough to be able to see your friends, “Besides, my brother’s birthday is in a week. I wouldn’t get the money in time even if I got the job.”
“That’s your fault for leaving it to the last minute,” Yanai clicks open the next tier in her bento box, “I don’t understand how you’re still at Kosei with all your procrastination.”
You perk up at this, “Uh, just because I don’t do my work weeks ahead of time like everyone else here doesn’t mean I don’t do well, thank you very much.”
“What’re you even getting your brother that costs so much anyways?” Yokkako finishes the last of the bun she bought from the school store, crumpling the transparent wrapper in between her hands.
“Limited-edition action figure set of this anime he watches,” you drag your chopsticks absentmindedly across your school lunch, depressed from just remembering the price tag.
Yanai admires her octopus hotdogs, her chopsticks holding one in midair, before eating it whole, “Can’t you get him, like, crayons or something?”
You stop swiveling your chopsticks across the pile of rice on your tray at her suggestion, “He’s not six. He’s turning twelve!”
“What’s the difference?” Yokkako snickers behind her hand, earning one smack on the shoulder from you.
“Seriously, guys,” you now resort to hopelessly picking up singular grains of rice with your chopstick, “Do any of you know how I can get cash quick and easy?”
“Well—”
“And legally.”
Yokkako wilters at the last part, her eagerness to tell you to be a cam girl or start selling drugs vanishing in a flash. While she isn’t involved in stuff like that, you knew she would suggest such a thing anyways, which would have annoyed you more.
Yanai nimbles on her chopsticks in thought, “Y’know, on my way to the teacher’s office—I had to drop something off—, I overheard one of the art students asking around for a model. He said he was willing to pay in cash.”
“Really!?” you straighten up from your slumped position, eyes sparkling at the prospect of possibly getting enough money for your brother, “Who? Do you know how much he’s paying? Did anyone say yes?”
“Hmm,” Yanai places her chopsticks down, “I only heard his voice, so I don’t know who he is, sorry. I didn’t stick around long enough to hear everything, so...”
“Ask one of the art teachers!” Yokkako chirps up, “They might know who it is. I think their office is on the…third floor?”
You turn to Yanai for an answer, who nods silently as she focuses on packing up her lunch, and, with her confirmation, you immediately stand up from your chair, “I’m going to go now then! Can’t have anyone taking my precious money! I’ll see you guys later!”
Dashing off, you try not to bump into unsuspecting students, spitting sorries when you do. You’re going to find this art student no matter what!
“Oh, right, I heard Kitagawa asking one of my other students to be his model yesterday,” the first art teacher you encountered answers, “She said she was too busy.”
Still catching your breath from sprinting up three flights of stairs, you stare blankly at her. Her answer as to who was asking for a model was hardly an answer. For all you know, there could be tens of Kitagawas in this school (it would be funny if they were all in the same art class too). Also, why did she talk more about the person he asked? She isn’t your main concern.
She returns to her work, so you press the subject further, “Kitagawa…?”
“You don’t know?” she makes the effort to turn her chair to face you completely, “Kitagawa Yusuke? He’s one of Madarame’s students.”
“Who?”
“Madarame, the artist?”
When you shake your head, she gapes at you but immediately pulls herself together, “Never mind. What do you need Kitagawa for anyways?”
“I was hoping to ask him if I could be his model,” you don’t bother to explain all the itty bitty details about how you desperately need the cash; she doesn’t need to know that.
The teacher squints at the grid paper taped on the wall in front of her, “I have him next, so I can ask for you. I’ll email you what he says. What’s your name? Include your first name as well, so I know what email to use.”
After telling her your name, she writes it down on a blank notepad, and you thank her for the help before leaving. At least you don’t have to track down this Kitagawa Yusuke.
You slide the door open and then close. Checking your watch, you yelp at the time. Class on the fifth floor is starting in three minutes, and you don’t even have your bag!
“Crap, crap, crap!” you repeat under your breath and push your legs to move faster, brisk walk accelerating to a full-out run.
As you make an abrupt turn around the corner to the downstairs, you harshly crash into someone. You shut your eyes, groaning when you make contact with the ground. Still reeling from the fall, you see the obstacle you bumped into, who is somehow gracefully sitting upon the linoleum floor.
“Pretty boy…” the words flow out of your mouth without a second thought, and your hand slaps itself over your mouth.
But really, is there anyone who wouldn’t have the same reaction? Navy blue hair framing the boy’s cheeks so perfectly and shining like it belongs in a shampoo commercial. The lack of blazer all students have to wear with their uniform revealing his lissome frame. The longest eyelashes you’ve ever seen. The most luscious lips—.
“Are you okay?”
At his words, you cease your shameless ogling, “Y-yes! S-sorry, are you okay? I should have been watching where I was going!”
“I’m quite alright, thank you,” he gets up from the floor, brushing one stray hair away from his face, “Do be careful though. It would not be safe to bump into anyone else like that.”
Before you can retort, you remember why you were in such a rush earlier and rise to your feet, “Oh god, I’m really going to be late now! Again, sorry, but gotta blast!”
You abandon him and take off at the same speed as before. Screw getting your bag; you can just ask Yukkako for paper and a pencil.
Your mind races back to the slender guy you bumped into as you scurry up the stairs. You’ve never met him before. However, you don’t think your paths will cross any time soon. It’s been a month since school started, but you haven’t seen him in any of your classes. Besides, he’s too…graceful. And pretty! Definitely not your crowd.
The bell rings once you reach the fifth floor, and you frantically scramble to the classroom door. You practically fall through the back door. Somehow, no one but Yukkako notices your tumble in and waves her hand rapidly. The teacher strides in the front door the moment you sit down, and you breathe out a sigh of relief.
The moment you step foot in your dorm room, you toss your bag to a corner of the room and launch yourself into the comfort of your bed. Thank god your roommate isn’t here right now. As always, a day spent at the illustrious Kosei High deserves a nap.
Too exhausted to take off your uniform, you snuggle on the top of your bed (also too exhausted to get inside the blankets). Closing your eyes, you feel yourself hazing out of reality and into the wondrous land of slumber.
Ding!
Your eyes snap open, tranquility gone and irritation kicked in. When you reach down into one of your pockets, you pull out the rectangular device. The brightness burns, and you don’t hesitate to lower it.
When you read the subject, “Art Model Information”, you sit up from your bed like a vampire from their coffin. Unlocking your phone, you hastily scan the message.
“‘I asked Kitagawa…need to go to Madarame’s studio tomorrow…might let you model!?’ I’m not even hired!?”
You almost throw the phone down on the mattress out of frustration, sleep disturbed for this. You have to travel to his place and aren’t even guaranteed the job? What if you travel for nothing? That would be a waste of a good subway fee!
To calm yourself, you take a deep breath and release it with most of your annoyance. There aren’t any better options, so what choice do you have?
Scrolling down the email, you find the address of this “Madarame’s studio”—you still don’t know who Madarame is—and copy it to paste into your navigation app.
Your finger repeatedly jams the doorbell as you cower underneath the veranda too small to properly cover anyone. Even though the forecast reported no rain, it began to downpour mere minutes ago with no relent in sight. Fortunately, you had a jacket to drape over your head, but it’s not going to hold for much longer at this rate.
“Oh, come on, answer the door already!” you whine.
You pressed the button just once when you first arrived, but, the longer you went on without a response, the more fervent your pressing became. Maybe you should be more patient. However, how good would a drenched model be? You need to get in soon, or else.
Before you resort to holding down the buzzer, a voice slices through the heavy rainfall, “Who is it? If it’s Sensei you want, he’s not here.”
You pause briefly at the strange familiarity of the voice before answering, “Hi, I’m from Kosei High! I don’t know her name, but one of your teachers told you about me? It’s raining pretty heavy out here, so, if you could let me in, that’d be great!”
“One moment.”
The transceiver disconnects. Footsteps approach behind the door, and the voice’s speaker unlocks it. You can’t help but gasp when the door opens to reveal who was talking to you.
The pretty boy you bumped into yesterday!
“It’s you!”
“It’s you…”
You’re too stunned to move, despite the rain pouring (partially) on you. So, this is Kitagawa Yusuke? You even said yesterday that your paths wouldn’t cross any time soon! What’re the odds?!
“...Will you be coming inside or…?” Pretty Boy, now identified as Kitagawa Yusuke, raises an elegant brow while stepping to the side to let you through.
“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” you step inside and take off the jacket on your head, “I just didn’t think that you’re Kitagawa! Crazy coincidence, right?”
“Indeed, this truly is a trick of fate…”
“‘Trick?’”
What did he mean by that?
Kitagawa doesn’t answer you and immediately begins to circle around you. He mumbles to himself, too incoherent for you to understand. The longer this goes on, the antsier you get. It’s as if you’re being picked apart with his eyes punctuated by those sharp lashes.
It’s not exactly the most comfortable experience.
Before you can ask him if something is wrong, he returns in front of you, done observing you like an abstract work of art, “I suppose you will do for now. Normally, I would try to find a more inspiring subject, but I cannot afford to on such time constraints. Do not worry about taking your shoes off, and, please, follow me.”
Your eye twitches at his slightly objectifying attitude, but you follow him anyway. Before leaving, though, you wring out your soaked jacket directly over the poor excuse of a doormat. Seeing the water permeate fills you with mischievous satisfaction. Seeing how far away he was, you run over to catch up.
It doesn’t take long for you two to enter a small studio room. Towards the backend of the room there’s a window to let natural light in. However, there isn’t exactly a lot of “natural light” shining through due to the storm. The ceiling light seems to provide just enough lighting, some darkness accumulating in the corner.
Various painting and sketching supplies are shelved in the back of the room as well. Three stools are pushed to the side. One stool sits in the middle, and an easel without its canvas in front of it.
Kitagawa goes ahead of you to set up, and you stand awkwardly by the doorway with your jacket over your arms.
“So…” you trail off, shutting the door behind you, “How should I do this? Do you have a certain pose in mind or…?”
The blue-haired painter (painter-in-training?) turns to you, “Well, in order to start, it would be best if you began taking off your clothes.”
“E-excuse me!?” you almost drop the jacket onto the wooden floor from pure shock.
No…is this a nude modeling gig!? Even though themes of nudity happen to make up a majority of famous paintings, you never even considered this would be the case. You’re also a high school student, just like him! Is this even legal?
“Were you unaware that you would be modeling nude?” he strokes his chin, clearly confused, “I made sure to specify that to the teacher though…”
You gulp. Maybe you should have read the email entirely…
“You are more than welcome to leave if you do not wish to do this anymore,” Kitagawa already makes moves to clear up shop, disappointed and…annoyed(?) at this turn of events, “However, if it comforts you, I have absolutely no interest in your naked figure. I am purely doing this for art. I assure you I have no ulterior motives other than painting another piece of work for Sensei.”
“Uh, w-well,” you fidget about, not completely unswayed by his words (even though you should be!), “h-how much will you be paying?”
“Did the teacher not tell you that either?” his brows furrow even more (you really should have read the email entirely), “It might not be much, but, when we finish, I will pay you about one hundred and fifty thousand yen.”
One hundred and fifty thousand!? That would cover your brother’s birthday gift and still leave you some cash to spend! All of that for modeling? Granted, you’ll be naked, but it would totally be worth it!
Wait. Jeez, are you really that desperate for money that you’ll strip for some guy you just met? …No, no, that isn’t the case here! You’re contributing to the art world! So what if you’re in the nude? If this painting is a hit, you’ll be famous, have money, and make your brother happy for this birthday. Well, secretly famous. You don’t want this spreading around, especially to your parents.
“I’ll do it,” you declare despite your heart beating wildly at what you’re committing to, “B-but on one condition! I won’t be officially associated with this. I don’t want people to know that you painted me…naked. So, I don’t want to see my name anywhere near this, got it?!”
“You have my word, thank you,” he softens his curt tone in gratitude, and his lips even curve into a small, pleasant smile.
Your heart stutters for a moment at the unexpected nicety. While Kitagawa hasn’t been outright scornful, you couldn’t help but feel iced out at first.
“Do not mind me as you undress,” his back faces you out of consideration, “I will prepare in the meanwhile. Let me know when you are ready.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Even though his back is already turned to you, you turn your back to him as well for added protection. Well, it would only be your rear side instead of your front side he would see if he turned around (if he does, you’re leaving without a second thought!). When getting ready for today, you opted for a comfortable but still nice outfit rather than your uniform. Had you known you would be modeling naked, you would have just come in sweatpants and a hoodie.
Sitting on the stool, you first remove your shoes. You strip out of your clothes one by one, stacking them into a messy pile on the stool closest to you. Your hands pause at your undergarments. As the room’s chill travels across your skin, goosebumps prickle your skin.
You take a deep breath.
One.
Two.
Three!
You unclasp your bra.
Another deep breath.
One.
Two.
Three!
You push down your underwear.
Adding the two articles to the unorganized mountain of clothes, which had somehow not collapsed yet, you turn around to face Kitagawa. Your hands wrap around your torso, insecurity trickling in like water from a sōzu. Now that you’re actually naked, you don’t feel as confident as you did before when you agreed.
Still, you don’t want to back out now, not after you’ve gone through the process of taking off your clothes. Ugh, you better like that gift, Hanzu!
“Is everything all right?” Kitagawa asks, back still to you.
“Y-yep!” you breathe deeply again to steel your nerves, “I-I’m all ready now!”
He turns around, seeing your naked body for the first time. Despite that, his insouciant expression doesn’t change. He merely clutches his chin between his fingers again; you could almost see the cogwheels turning inside his mind. His ever-observant gaze causes you to cover yourself up even more, your hands sliding up more and legs gradually crossing over each other.
“Stop right there,” he commands with such purpose it freezes you into submission, “This heightened vulnerability and bareness… It perfectly encapsulates both innocence and womanhood at the same time! To think that you would be able to deliver such a concept… Yes, I can work with this. How foolish of me to doubt fate earlier.”
“Th-thanks?” you’re not sure whether you should be pleased or creeped out or if that even sounded like you.
“Please, remain still for now,” he sits at the easel, pencil in hand.
“Sure thing…” you search for an interesting crack in the wall to distract yourself with. With the state of the place, there are plenty of cracks to choose from, which means plenty of story material.
You’re unsure how much time has passed. All has been quiet save for your breathing and Kitagawa’s sketching. Since the session started, you’ve gotten more comfortable. Not completely, but definitely better than before!
However, you now face a new dilemma.
As you learned in psychology class, your brain requires stimulation. When it’s not getting stimulated, like right now, the urge to do something eats away at you like an annoying parasite. And it’s definitely not helping that you’ve been standing the entire time! But Kitagawa told you to stay still. You may have just met him today, but you feel that disobeying an artist’s orders, especially one as passionate as Kitagawa—that’s the impression you get anyway—is just as bad as waking a sleepwalker.
If you can’t move your body, you can at least move something else.
“So, how’s the drawing going?”
His hand falters in the line he was sketching out. With a sigh, he quickly erases it before redrawing. You quietly wince, not intending to irritate him. Maybe you should have realized that talking to him would have snapped him out of his artistic mojo.
He continues to sketch your figure, eyes flickering to you and then the canvas. The silence is even louder, and you’re too ashamed to ask again. Is there perhaps another crack you already didn’t make a story for?
“The sketch is almost finished,” he finally speaks, and you almost relax completely at an answer despite not wearing any clothes, “Sorry, I understand modeling for a painting can be difficult. Would you like to take a short break? I completed the part I was working on and can afford to pause now.”
A break? You thought he would reprimand you for speaking, but that was oddly considerate of him. Well, not like he hasn’t been, but…
“How close are you to finishing? Because, if it’s not too long, then I can handle it.”
He surveys his drawing, “Fifteen minutes should be sufficient enough.”
“Then we can continue, no worries,” you adjust your position to its original state.
“You have my thanks,” he nods and even flashes a gentle smile before resuming the sketch.
After a few more soft pencil scratchings and a few more riveting narratives of the Cracken terrorizing the town with no end in sight, Kitagawa picks up the small, deformed eraser and rubs it strongly against the canvas. His effaces become more and more frequent until he slumps over completely. Despair and hopelessness radiates from him.
“Uh, Kitagawa? Everything all right?” you make it your best effort to not move while also straining to get a better look at him from behind the easel.
“Something’s not right,” he lifts only his head to meet your eyes, “For some unknown reason, I cannot properly draw this last piece. Perhaps it’s the angle of your legs? Or maybe your arms?”
“I swear I didn’t move at all! Not even an inch!” you prepare yourself for a scolding, even though you are one hundred percent certain you didn’t move your legs at all no matter how badly you wanted to.
“I never said you did,” his expression shows no irritation, but his words still cut into you like the crack in the wall, “Allow me to think on this for a moment.”
Mumbling unintelligibly to himself, he pinches his chin between his fingers as his eyes scrutinize you once more like they had in the beginning. You immediately avert your gaze to the other side of the wall. Is it like an artist thing, or does he have this innate ability to pick you apart with his eyes alone?
“That’s it!” he sits up again with such a fervency it almost inspires you to do the same, “Please cross your left leg thirty degrees more inward.”
“D-degrees?”
With hesitant estimation—what exactly is thirty degrees?—you slowly slide your left leg.
“No, apologies, I meant your right leg.”
At his new orders, you, silent and compliant, move your right leg back to where it was originally and repeat what you did earlier to your left leg this time.
“A bit more, please, and point your right foot as well.”
You struggle to maintain your balance at the new position. Praying he doesn't make you do this for much longer, you attempt to keep the shaking to a minimum.
He tuts his disapproval, and your obedience slowly transitions into annoyance.
“Could you curve your foot a little more?”
“Please lower your right leg a little.”
“...Try moving your left leg outward.”
“No, move it back.”
“Why don’t you just do it for me then!?” you practically yell out, frustrated from having to adjust your already-sore limbs every second.
“Good idea, it would save us precious time,” he stands up straight from his seat with such poise and grace, it sends shivers down your spine.
“W-wait a minute, you’re coming over here?” your arms hug you tighter as an unsettling realization crawls on your back.
Not only is Kitagawa going to be extremely up close and personal, but he’s also going to put his hands all over your arms and legs and bend them at impossible angles!
He pauses in his steps with confusion scrawled all over his features, “Yes? Is that not what you asked?”
“W-well, it is, but…but I’m naked!” you state as if it’s the obvious reason (because it is the obvious reason).
“But you have been for the past hour or so,” he raises an eyebrow in even deeper confusion, “What makes now so different?”
“I’m naked,” you strongly emphasize the word “naked” as if Kitagawa somehow did not see an issue in the concept, “I don’t know about you, Kitagawa, but I am not comfortable with you putting your grubby mitts on me as you spread my legs and whatnot. It’s already enough that I’m modeling naked for you!”
“Spread your legs? Why would I ever—?” he stops mid-sentence, finally understanding what you were trying to get at, and his pale cheeks flush red, as if dragged from the center to the red side of the color wheel, “O-oh, I-I see…”
With a clearing of his throat, he continues, “My apologies for being so oblivious to your concerns. However, you currently seem to be incapable of properly executing what I envision for this painting. What to do…?”
Ain’t no way is he touching you! There has to be another way!
“M-maybe!” you interject before he decides that A) you’re not a fit model for him anymore and thus denied the pay you were promised or B) there is no other choice but for him to treat you as if you are nothing more than a wooden lay figure, “Maybe you can…pose like how you want me to? And then I can…mirror it? Yeah? How’s that?”
He stares blankly at you, and, as if a three-second timer went off, he livens back up, “What a splendid idea! Please do your best to imitate me.”
After adjusting his stance to better match yours, he first, as asked of you before, moves his left leg slightly higher to the crux where his legs crossed over. Oh, so that’s what thirty degrees are. Then, with a shift of his torso, he freezes with his eyes intently on you, silently commanding you to imitate him. You immediately follow suit, dumbfounded at how easy it was to copy him when you had failed multiple times.
“Perfect, now please stay like that for just a moment more,” he returns to his stool behind the canvas, pencil already in hand.
You sigh with relief, having successfully escaped any more torment, and focus back on doing what you were hired to do.
This time, instead of continuing to mentally write fanfiction between the crack on the left side of the wall and the crack on the right side of the wall—a true Shakespearean tragedy split by the great schism in the middle—, you find yourself staring at Kitagawa. Since you’re barely a meter away from him, you can see him up close for much longer than yesterday.
He’s so focused. His dark-blue eyes would unblinkingly scan across the canvas as his pencil dragged across the surface. Somehow, a mere glimpse to you can provide enough material to last him minutes of drawing. While his extremely hunched-over posture is left to be desired, his zeal clearly shows with how much he’s leaning in. Any further, and his nose would be touching the canvas!
You also take the time to comment (mentally, of course) on the strange seventy-thirty hair split he has going on. When it comes to parting hair, most go for a twenty-eighty or thirty-seventy split. However, he went the other way and managed to make it look as charming as ever. Even now, side parts aren’t the latest in style, but anyone who saw him would strongly disagree. Somehow, the right side of his hair perfectly frames his cheek. Yes, he has to push a strand or two out of the way every now and then. But, for the majority, it stays perfectly still, coiffed with enough curvature to not appear so limp.
Urgh, he’s a pretty boy in every sense of the word!
After some back and forth from behind the easel to you, the saccades shorter and shorter each time, his eyes then shift to your own. At the sudden eye contact, you flinch, caught red-handed.
“Is something the matter? You’ve been staring at me for quite some time,” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“O-oh, it’s nothing!” you laugh awkwardly, trying to act as if you weren’t staring at him for the past couple of minutes, “I-I was just zoning out, haha! Don’t mind me!”
He accepts your excuse without a second thought (is he really that gullible?), “Well, I am just about done with the sketch. All that is left is to paint it. I greatly appreciate your service and—.”
“Ooo! Can I see?” you jump up from the wooden stool and bounce over to see what he was drawing for the past hour.
Kitagawa immediately stiffens at your close proximity, but you’re too enraptured with what’s before you.
When people meet you, there are some words that easily come to mind: rambunctious, tomboyish, immature, incorrigible. However, you don’t see any hint of that in Kitagawa's depiction of you. You see exactly what he raved about earlier: vulnerability, innocence, and womanhood. How was he able to illustrate you in such a way so different from how most characterize you despite only formally meeting you today?
You also can’t imagine how striking the painting will be when finished. Will he use pop, bright colors to imply your teenage youth? Or will he use muted mature shades to highlight a sense of coming-of-age?
A stammered yelp of your last name draws you back into reality.
“Sorry, sorry! This is just so amazing!” you practically squeal while covering your mouth with your hands, “I can’t believe someone so talented is my age! Can I take a picture? Whoa, this is so cool!”
“I-I thank you for your kind words,” he avoids your gaze, finding the floor most intriguing, “You can take a picture. Please be sure not to post it anywhere should someone come across it and choose to plagiarize my work.”
“Got it!” you hum all happy, ego also inflated from being drawn so well and so beautifully.
Instead of answering, he fully turns his body away from you. You move to his side to find a faint dusting of pink across his nose and the top of his cheeks.
“Hey, are you feeling okay? Your face is kind of red, and—.”
“I’m f-fine,” he clears his throat and shakes his head, all while still concentrating on the weathered floor, “I-I would greatly appreciate it if you can get dressed, though, so I can pay you for your services.”
You look down at yourself, suddenly remembering that you were indeed not wearing clothes, and feel your body heat up from embarrassment, the slightly-cold draft in the room be damned. Your face is as red as a tomato, and your ears are tipped in a similar shade. Squeaking out an apology, you hastily move to the pile of clothes on the chair and fumble through putting them on, too flustered to do so calmly.
Right as you slip on the last of your shoes, you snatch your phone out of your pocket to take a quick snapshot of Kitagawa’s drawing. Up from his stool but still with his back turned to you, he busies himself with something in the furthest corner.
With the press of a button, his sketch is saved on your phone. You observe it on the digital screen, but, even then, it doesn’t even compare to the actual artwork. Well, digital copies never amount to the original anyways.
Pinching in and out of the photo to pick out the finer details, Kitagawa approaches you with a thick, money envelope in his hand, “Here is one hundred and fifty thousand yen, as previously agreed upon. I once again thank you for being my model. You truly brought the perspective I needed for this painting. Don’t worry, I intend to bring this painting the beauty it wholly deserves.”
“Oh, thanks…” your heart skips a beat at his words, moved at his dedication.
With two hands and a slight bow, you accept the money from Kitagawa, who then moves to clean up his supplies. As you stare at it in your hand, unease settles in your stomach.
Was this really going to be the last time you saw him? You don’t share any classes with him. Hell, you never even knew the guy existed until yesterday!
You can’t place your finger on why, but you want to get to know him more. Was it because of his formal speaking mannerisms? His talent? His creativity? His pretty boy appearance (you most certainly didn’t forget that)?
Clutching the envelope tightly, you stride up to Kitagawa with a surge of unknown need, “H-hey!”
Great start.
He turns around from putting his pencils away with utmost confusion, “...Is something the matter?”
“W-well,” you gulp and spit out your first coherent thought, “I-I wouldn’t mind modeling for you again!”
“...Excuse me?” he looks even more confused, and you panic on how to explain yourself.
“Wh-what I mean is,” you clear your throat to stall for time, “I-I really want to see how you paint this and make sure it’s good! It is a painting of me after all, a-and I can be there as a real-life reference! I can even model again, i-if that’s what you need!”
Stupid, of course it’s going to be good. He already drew you perfectly. Actually painting it shouldn’t prove a problem, especially since he’s taught by Madarame, who you found out last night is actually a super famous artist.
Still, despite your floundering attempts, he appears to strongly consider this proposition, “It would be extremely beneficial if I had my subject with me as I painted… However, I wouldn’t be able to pay you again. Unfortunately, I’m a little low on funds this month.”
“That’s fine!”
“Then, it’s a deal,” he takes out his own phone from his pocket, “Let’s exchange contact information, so I can message you when I begin the painting process. It will most likely be in the next day or so, so please keep your schedule open.”
You mentally do a fist pump, “All righty, do you have LINE or something? I have social media too, if that’s better.”
“I must confess I am not all that interested in what the online world has to offer,” he pulls out his phone from his back pocket, “I also don’t have any messaging apps outside of the one already on your phone, so your phone number would be best.”
Nodding, you exchange phones and open his contacts. You’re astonished at the names that flood his screen. Arita Takemi, Mihara Kurumi, Natsuhiko Nakanohara���wow, both his names start with “N!” That’s kind of cool—, Yoshihisa Haru… The list goes on and on! How does he know this many people? Or keep up with them? You don’t even think you have this many classmates!
Choosing not to ask him about it, you put in your number as a new contact. With the addition of your name, you raise his phone in the air to take a selfie of yourself (with a peace sign, obviously). Handing it back, you take your phone to find his contact only with his full name and phone number.
Well, you didn’t really expect much more than that from him.
“Hmm, it appears the rain has yet to stop,” he checks the time on his phone, “and it’s quite late. My sincere apologies for keeping you here for so long. I would walk you to the station myself, but I need to prepare for Sensei’s return.”
Surely it can’t be that late; you got here around noontime. Checking your phone as well, you quirk a brow at his definition of late.
You jam your phone back into your back pocket, “Um, it’s only a little past 5:30, Kitagawa. I’ll be okay on my own, but I appreciate the thought.”
He doesn’t look convinced and leaves the room, “At least let me get you an umbrella. I won’t be long.”
True to his word, he comes back as quickly as he left with an umbrella too big for only one person.
“Oh, thanks!” you blink at it in your hands, surprised at his offer, before back at him, “Well, I’ll be on my way now, but I’ll return it next time I see you!”
“Farewell,” he waves you off, and you do the same.
Leaving the room and out the front door, you notice how the rain isn’t coming down as hard as before. In fact, it’s such a light drizzle, using an umbrella would be superfluous. Still, you open it up before walking out from underneath the extremely narrow veranda.
Kitagawa Yusuke.
He’s so strange and perhaps a little blunt.
But he’s also far more polite than the rest of your male peers.
You put a little more pep in your step and smile with anticipation for the next time you see him, hopefully sooner rather than later.
ENDING NOTE: i present to you a project months in the making with a huge hiatus in between completion! i thought this would be ready to release to the world a month ago but. i was wrong LOL!
so, for a little context, i have always wanted to play persona 5 ever since it came out six years ago. however, i never got a ps4. THEN! p5royal got announced for switch and other devices, and i pre-ordered it almost immediately. now, it hasn’t been long since it came out, but i just finished up makoto’s palace.
playing this game also reignited my love and worship for the man that is yusuke kitagawa. the amount of screenshots and videos i took during his arc is embarrassing. then, i read a yusuke x reader oneshot at like 2 am (it’s on ao3 titled “Emperor” by deareststars! so good, the friends to lovers in me enjoyed it so much!). i sat up from my bed with such urgency at the lightning strike of inspiration and starting writing this.
this wasn’t written all in one sitting; this took about...3 months, and, with college apps, my progress was quite stifled! i originally wanted to do this sunshine, tomboyish, easygoing reader with a begrudging, “i need you to do my painting (for madarame)” yusuke. so, yes, an enemies to lovers. however, i don’t think it was that enemies. i think it was quite normal LOL. there isn’t a lot of romance in this either. i was rlly struggling on what to tag this because there isn’t romance; this is just like. the start of it all! miniseries? no…probably not LOL. right before i was going to post this, i realized i forgot to include the posing scene. my original thought was for yusuke to actually move your legs to how he desired, but i was like reader wouldn’t like that, and yusuke wouldn’t do it if reader expressed discomfort (and she did so). so. you got that teehee.
tl;dr: this was self-indulgent 101%.
#kitagawa yusuke#kitagawa yusuke x reader#yusuke x reader#yusuke fluff#yusuke oneshot#persona 5 fanfiction#persona 5#persona 5 royal#《angel writes》#《med shot》
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Waking up after anesthesia
English added by me :)
#douyin#video#tiktok#when i got my wisdom teeth removed i sat in the back of the car and was trying to be all scientific and coolheaded about it all#held my tongue between my fingers and was like 'wow my tongue ith vewy dwy' and then i started crying#when we got into the garage i crawled up the 2 stairs into the house (i thought it would mask the fact that my sense of balance was shot)#and i refused to take my pain meds bc i figured it wouldve hurt a lot more if i'd gotten my legs blown off so i should just be grateful 🤷🏻
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I like them just a normal amount… Just a normal amount…
#help me they have taken over my brain#my thoughts be like no maths or responsabilities only lawlu#i wrote a whole one shot that ill never publish of these two#when i should have been writing an essay to get my fricking international certificate what the h-#maybe my psych should ajust my adhd meds#its just#them<3#lawlu#law x luffy#luffy x law#lulaw
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𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞
*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Will Halstead x Female!Reader.
• Requested by @klovesreading: I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader is married to Will but is a detective with Jay and is really close with Jay. But one day a case goes bad and the reader gets shot and almost dies and just a lot of angst but the reader survives in the end!
• Warnings: mention of blood, drugs, gunshots, tiny bit of angst and swearing.
• Word count: 5018.
• A/N: this is my first Will Halstead fic and it’s ugly as fuck, I don’t like one bit how it turned out 😭 you can actually notice I didn’t want to write anything else but I know if I kept going it would’ve ended up being so much longer than this so here is this piece of shit. I hope you’ll like it anyway but please bear with me 😭 comment, like and reblog if you want. I love you all so much ❤️
You, Will and Jay had been good friends for as long as you could remember.
The three of you grew up in the same neighborhood, your families being friends for a very long time. They were like big brothers to you or, at least, only one of them was.
You never managed to hide the crush you had on the redhead since you were a teenager, no one missed this detail – not even Jay who never wasted time teasing you about your crush on his brother – only Will seemed to not to see it.
You spent years of your adolescence and youth pining for him, trying to suppress your feelings knowing he didn't feel the same. You tried to move on, you had some boyfriends but it always ended the same way: you leaving them because you could never completely get Will out of your head. And as time passed you had resigned yourself to it, accepting you’d never be anything other than best friends.
There was a time when the three of you drifted apart, Will had gone to medical school, Jay had joined the army and left to go overseas and you spent a lot of time training to get in the police academy.
But fate really seemed to work in wonderful ways.
You thought you’d never reconnect with the Halstead brothers again but this was proven wrong when one day you met Jay at the police academy. You were a patrol cop with about two years of experience and he had just joined the Chicago PD after returning from his mission overseas.
And just like that you learned that Will had recently returned to Chicago and started working at Med's. It was as if time had never passed for the three of you, returning to having the deep bond that had united you since childhood.
But just as you thought your love for Will had somehow passed, it was enough for you to spend just a day with him to understand those deep feelings had never faded and that Will would forever be in your heart.
As time passed though, Will realized he was starting to look at you differently, continually craving your company. He didn't know when it happened or how it happened but he found himself inexorably losing his mind for you, in a way that shouldn't have happened with his best friend.
So for an amount of time you found yourselves lusting for each other from afar without either of you growing any balls and confessing your feelings.
The turning point came when the morning after spending a night at the bar and drinking too many shots and cocktails, you woke up in Will's bed with only a sheet covering your body. You were both too drunk the night before to remember what had happened but that blurry sexual encounter didn’t only happen once.
In fact after this rendezvous, it was as if a magnetic force attracted both of you and no matter how much you both fought it, one way or another you ended up having sex at one or the other's house.
Jay's teasing was pure torture as he could see from miles away that something really had happened between the two of you.
It was Will who confessed his love first, in the grip of emotions and no longer able to pretend you were just friends with benefits for even a second. You told him it took him a long time and that you loved him madly too, and the rest was history.
So here you were several years later, married to the love of your life and living the fairy tale you've always dreamed about.
“Babe please…” you sighed, eyes half closed as his lips worked their magic on that particular spot on your neck. You had to go to work but that seemed to take a backseat as your mind was completely dazzled by the hurricane that was your husband.
His arms wrapped around your hips and his hands went down to your ass, which they squeezed and groped without any shame. That made you sigh as you wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his soft hair and pulling it lightly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, making him lose the last bit of control he had in his body and you grinned knowing how much he liked it when you pulled his hair. Before you could say or do anything, his lips had captured yours in a deep, passionate kiss as you took slow steps towards the bed
You both fell onto the mattress, bouncing slightly and you both let out a laugh before kissing again, him on top of you. It didn't take long for both of you to undress and throw all your clothes on the floor, losing yourself inexorably in each other.
Needless to say, you arrived at Intelligence incredibly late, thanking all the angels in heaven when you realized Voight hadn't arrived yet by the time you entered the unit.
“Why were you late?” Jay asked as soon as you arrived, handing you a cup of coffee he had set aside for you. He only had to look at you for his question to be answered, the stupid smile on your lips clearer than sunlight. “Actually never mind, don't answer. You're disgusting.“
“Hey! First of all you asked and second, go talk to your brother, he’s always so insatiable,” you replied with the sole purpose of annoying the younger Halstead. You succeeded in your aim when an expression of pure disgust and horror appeared on his face.
“You make me sick I don't want to know about you having sex with my brother for God's sake!” He exclaimed as you continued to laugh out loud.
You and Jay were now detectives and members of the Intelligence Unit for quite some time and as luck would have it, Voight even assigned you as partners. It was great to work with a friendly face, to have someone to deal with all the shit that humanity presented, to be there for each other when the other felt like everything was too hard to handle.
You and Jay continued to have a little banter but that little idyllic moment was interrupted when Voight entered the unit with Sergeant Platt and from their expressions you immediately understood they didn’t bring any good news.
Badly cut drug was circulating through the Chicago streets, causing numerous overdose victims, and there was pressure to get this case solved immediately.
Something told you this case would take much longer than necessary, so you took advantage of every free moment to text Will and update him on the evolution of the situation.
Will was afraid he’d be committed to Dr. Charles' psych ward sooner or later due to the stress your and Jay's job brought him.
He couldn't help but feel the anxiety eating his stomach up every time you told him you had some kind of field operation to do. It was a horrible feeling, having no idea what was going on out there, not being able to protect you or his brother if something horrible happened.
Every single day was a prayer. He prayed you both would come home safely, he prayed he could hug you both again at the end of each shift.
He tried not to give too much weight to his paranoid thoughts and convince himself it was only his sense of protection speaking. You and Jay were more than capable of defending yourselves even in dangerous situations, Will knew that, but that didn't make it any easier.
Many times he had wondered why neither you nor Jay had opted for a safer career, so he wouldn't risk a heart attack every time you left the house. You could’ve been teachers, or cooks, coaches, anything, but no, you both had to choose one of the most dangerous professions in the world. And so he didn't have to worry about his wife or just his brother's, but both.
His heart could only bear it to a certain extent.
And that day was no different when you texted him you and Jay were on your way to question a suspect.
Knowing you were in the district would calm him down a little since you were safe there, but knowing you were both out there with the risk of dying just around the corner was pure torture.
“How much you wanna bet he’ll run away as soon as he sees us?” You asked Jay as you got out of the car and walked towards the driveway of the house where the suspect was supposed to be. He wasn't directly involved with the drugs but, after the team started the investigations, you discovered he knew who was indeed involved and both you and Jay were determined to find out who that person was.
“Nah I pass, I know for sure this will happen so let’s just get ready to do some running,” he replied and you laughed before knocking twice loudly on the door.
“Chicago PD! Open up!” You exclaimed and you and Jay waited a few moments in which there was nothing but silence.
Jay moved away from the door and went to the window to check if there was actually anyone inside and you knocked again with two more loud thuds. “Open the door we just want to talk!”.
What happened was so quickly you wouldn't have been able to tell it if someone had asked you.
The suspect you were supposed to question – a guy in his mid-twenties – opened the door but you had your guard down so you couldn’t react as quickly as you wished. You saw him hold the gun and point it at you, you had tried as quickly as possible to take your gun from its holster but before you could do so a shot had already been fired and a bullet had already passed through your abdomen.
As you said, everything happened quickly.
The bullet shot immediately triggered Jay who quickly pulled out his gun and only then realized with pure horror you had been shot.
Before he could attempt to shoot the suspect, the bastard had already run away at the speed of light even if at that moment Jay didn't care.
He ran towards you and picking you up he dragged you away from the porch of that house, not wanting to run the risk that someone else might shot at you, and he carried you behind your car.
“Hey, hey, hey it's okay, don’t move. Everything's going to be okay, you hear me Y/n? You’ll be fine,” He tried to reassure you, to no avail as you had a bullet in your abdomen and were bleeding profusely, before immediately calling for help as panic coursed through his veins.
You were still shocked even as you lifted your head for the asphalt and saw your wound bleeding more than it should have. You tried to cover it with your hands but Jay did it for you, after taking a jacket he had in the car and pressing it to the wound.
“Shit,” you hissed. The pain was excruciating, even if the adrenaline helped to dull the sensation a little. A flood of emotions overwhelmed you, panic, fear, confusion. Your eyes looked around frantically as if to try to convince your mind you were still alive, that everything was going to be okay.
“Help is on the way Y/n, please hold on okay? You’ll be fine I’m sure,” Jay continued to babble, more to himself than to you.
“It-it hurts…” you stuttered, closing your eyes for a few moments as you felt your heart pounding in your chest.
“Hey, hey, hey, don't you dare fall asleep, just hang on for a minute. Please… Everything will be fine...“ he kept repeating.
But his voice began to reach your ears far away. That warm, burning sensation coursing through your abdomen was starting to fade and the weakness was instead starting to take over you. You were fighting so hard to try and stay awake, even though you were in that state you knew this didn’t mean anything good.
“Y/n!” Suddenly you heard Jay's voice and your eyes widened. You didn't even realize you had closed them.
“Jay can you believe…” you winched “Can you believe for just one second I will live?” You continued trying to smile seeing the way Jay was looking at you. You saw him so scared and worried for other few times in your life, and if it hadn't been for the bullet, you would probably have made fun of him.
“Of course you’l live Y/n, of course I believe it. Who will make my life a living hell if you're gone?”.
You giggled at those words. “L-look at my little brother-in-law worrying about me,” you whispered, as you got weaker with each second that passed. Your eyelids felt heavy, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, or even just to speak.
Your mind was racing, a thousand thoughts were invading it, which was in stark contrast to your physical state as you struggled to even lift your hands.
But the first thought was your husband, your beloved Will. How would he react? What would’ve he said? You hated the thought of not being the first to tell him, to comfort him knowing how worried he would be.
“No of course I’m not,” Jay replied, letting out a sound of mock disdain, making you smile weakly again. “I'm just worried about Will, I don’t care about you. I know he’s going to fucking kill me once he’ll find out.”
You tried to let out a laugh but a cough stopped it.
You fought for Will above all, because you refused to leave like this, to give up right when you were living the life of your dreams with the love you had wanted for so long. But in that moment, as your strength slowly left your body as quickly as your blood spread across the asphalt, you needed him so much.
You wanted Will, you wanted him to hold your hand, you wanted him to whisper it was going to be okay and you’d be fine in no time, you wanted him to hug you and make you forget all the pain and fear that was paralyzing you, you wanted to run a hand through his hair and tell him to calm down when he’d freak out.
And you really tried to resist.
But you were tired, so exhausted, you just wanted to be able to rest a little.
And that was exactly how you let yourself slip into the darkness of oblivion, the last thought being Will's eyes.
“Y/n? Hey! Please don't play with me right now,” Jay shook your shoulders slightly when he realized you had closed your eyes. “I know you're joking, just wake up it’s not funny.”
But nothing, he didn't receive any response.
And after several attempts to wake you up he had to accept you had lost consciousness and you weren't joking at all.
He looked around waiting for the damn ambulance to arrive and when he finally saw it from afar, he thought it was a mirage, too good to be true.
Meanwhile Will was unaware of everything that was happening out there, that his world was collapsing on him without even realizing it.
“Your tests came back normal but we'll keep you here for observation for another couple of hours just to make sure everything is fine, and we'll keep you hydrated in the meantime, okay?”.
“Okay, thank you so much Dr. Halstead.”
Will gave the lady lying on the bed a smile before leaving her room and closing the door behind him. He sanitized his hands and walked over to the nurses' station where he took the patient's medical records, updating her tests and treatment.
He couldn't help but take his cell phone from his uniform pocket, noticing with disappointment there was no message from you. He let out a sigh, trying to stay calm and convince himself he was just overreacting even if anxiety was gripping his stomach.
He put down the patient’s chart he had just seen, playing with the ring on his ring finger while a nurse informed him of the arrival of another patient who was already waiting for him.
If only he had waited a few seconds longer, if only he hadn't immediately entered that room, he would’ve seen that the person who had just entered the emergency room, unconscious, was the very last person he would’ve ever wanted to see in those circumstances, the person whose safety he worried about night and day, one of the people he loved most in the world.
Jay couldn't reach you at the hospital right away since he was waiting for Voight's orders on what to do but nevertheless he didn't stop thinking about you for a second and hoping that you were still alive.
Will treated the patient who came to the hospital following a chainsaw accident while chopping wood. With the help of a nurse, he sutured and dressed the fairly deep cut on the patient's leg while in the next room Connor and the rest of the team worked to revive you from the cardiac arrest you had just fallen into.
It took about twenty minutes for him to finish treating the patient, who he recommended to return to check the wound and assigned medicines in case of infection or pain. When he left the room, he did again what he had done earlier: disinfect his hands and update the medical records.
“Woah, what happened in there?” Will asked one of the new nurses that had recently started working when his gaze fell on the now room.
He saw the state in which that room was, copious traces of blood stained the floor on which numerous bright red patches were scattered, soaked in the same blood of the victim he thought he didn't know. The defibrillator was nearby and positioned crookedly on its trolley indicating it had been used and Will hoped that whoever it was, had managed to survive.
“A gunshot victim, bad story. She went into cardiac arrest twice but they were able to revive her and Dr. Rhodes just took her to the OR,” explained the nurse who, being new, didn't know that said victim was his superior's wife.
Will nodded, looking away from the room for a second before handing her the patient’s medical record he had just seen and putting the pen back in his white coat’s pocket.
He took out his cell phone again, noting with equal disappointment that no message had arrived from you. He sighed again before putting it down and his gaze fell on that room again.
His gaze fell on the victim's objects which were in a transparent bag placed on one of the bedside tables next to the now absent bed. He didn't want to snoop but curiosity got the better of him and he thought maybe he could help track down the family.
His heart almost stopped when he recognized your clothes in that bag.
“What the fuck?” He whispered as his brain struggled to process what he was seeing. There was a police badge, among other items. Anxiety gripped his stomach in a vice, twisting it until he almost felt like he was going to throw up.
“No, no, no, no,” he babbled to himself as his eyes continued to scan the numbers on the badge again and again.
It was yours.
No, it couldn't be true, there had to be an explanation. There had to be a reason why your badge and clothes had to be there.
While his heart continued to beat voraciously in his chest, Will continued to look among those objects. There was also the gun and a cell phone, yours.
His hands began to shake as all of his worst nightmares seemed to come true. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't, until the very end he hoped there had been some kind of misunderstanding, that it was definitely someone else but for some strange reason they had managed to take your gun, badge, cell phone and even your bloody clothes.
But it was when he saw the ring that he felt as if a train had hit him. There was no doubt it was your ring, a ring that was stained with your own blood.
Will felt as if the ground had slipped beneath his feet, for a moment so out of his mind everything seemed to happen in a blur.
He immediately ran out of that damned room, making space among his colleagues and passers-by and running like a madman towards the ORs. He looked crazy, but he didn't care, he didn't care to stop and apologize to the people he was clashing with, he just wanted to reach you.
This can't be true, please God.
He had to make sure, it couldn't really be happening.
He didn't even wash his hands before entering the OR, he simply took a surgical mask and placed it in front of his nose before entering where Connor was operating.
If Will had to describe how he felt, he would’ve said he felt like he was dying, that he felt the air stuck in his throat and his lungs collapsing. He felt his legs give way and had to lean on the doorframe leading to the OR to avoid falling on the floor.
It was you.
It was really you.
Unconscious and with a tube down your throat, but it was you.
“Why the fuck didn't anyone call me!” Will almost shouted, his hands shaking with fear and anger, holding back the desire to run to you and grab your hand since he wasn't sterile.
“Will, get out of here,” Connor replied, looking up from your open abdomen for just a second so he could look at his friend and the desperation he had on his face.
“How is she? Connor please tell me something,” the redhead begged as his eyes filled with tears.
“Will. Out. Now.”
“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me how you she is. She's my fucking wife, I'm her husband! I have to know!”.
“This is exactly why you can't stay here! I can't operate if you're here and I'm trying to save her fucking life so get out of my OR immediately!” Rhodes exclaimed loudly, feeling guilty for the tone he had used since Will was only worried about you, but thinking it was necessary. He looked up at one of the nurses and nodded at him at which he nodded back and walked over to Will, inviting him to come outside.
“Don't fucking touch me,” Will spat through gritted teeth, his eyes shining before walking out of the OR.
He slumped against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, legs bent and elbows resting on his knees while he had his hands on his face.
What the fuck happened?
It was unbelievable, he couldn't process it.
How did you go from making love that same morning to you having surgery a step from the death?
Where the fuck was Jay? Why wasn't he there?
Will let out a sob, praying with all his heart that at least his brother was okay. God only knew he wouldn't be able to survive if Jay got hurt too.
“Will!”.
But when he heard Jay's voice calling him out, a wave of relief washed away some of the anguish that had been plaguing him. Will stood up and saw Jay running towards him. He hugged him, in tears, holding him so tight his bones almost broke.
“What the hell happened Jay? Where the fuck were you? Why didn’t you call me? You okay?” Will peppered him with questions, taking a look at his brother and noticing with horror the blood staining his shirt.
“I'm fine… I-I'm so sorry Will, this shouldn't have happened I…” Jay blathered, also scared to death even though he knew what he was feeling was nothing compared to how Will must’ve going through at that moment. He told him what had happened. “How is she?”.
Will shook his head, as if to tell him he didn't know, and collapsed, letting himself go into tears full of terror, fear, fright. Jay wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit down, trying in vain to comfort him.
What would he have done if you hadn't survived? How could he go on with his life if you weren't there?
He didn't even want to imagine it, he didn't want to find answers to these questions because there actually weren't any answers. Will couldn't be without you.
He had known you since they were only a few years old, he had grown up with you, he had laughed, he had cried, he had fun with you, he had confided to you his deepest secrets, his deepest fears, he couldn't even think of not being able to do all this anymore. He remembered your friendship with so much warmth and joy before falling in love with you without even realizing it.
You made him happy, you understood him, you were his best friend, his lover, his wife, his confidant. Loving you felt like winning the lottery, marrying you was the most beautiful gift life could ever give him, he couldn't even think that all this was hanging by just a thread.
What would he have done without your laugh, your horrible jokes, without your smile, your eyes, the warmth of your hugs? How was he going to survive?
No, no, no, she’s going to be fine. She will be okay.
You were strong, one of the strongest people he had ever met in his life, there was no difficulty you wouldn't have solved, there was no obstacle you wouldn't have overcome. If anyone could do this it was you, Will knew you were going to be okay.
He jumped up, no longer able to sit still. Time seemed to stand still, passing so slowly that every minute was pure agony.
“Will…”
“Shut up Jay!” Will exclaimed loudly, not caring about other people. Jay remained silent as he stood up as well, letting his brother vent. “Where the fuck were you! You were supposed to protect her why weren't you there?!”
Will was not thinking clearly anymore because of the anger, not anger directed towards Jay – he knew it wasn’t his fault but only of the bastard that pulled the trigger.
He approached Jay and pushed him but Jay didn't react, his heart actually clenched as he saw the suffering Will was going through. He would probably have reacted the same way if his wife was fighting between life and death.
“If anything happens to her Jay… Fuck!”.
Jay raised a hand and shook his head when one of the doctors passing by tried to intervene, telling him he had everything under control.
“She’ll be fine brother. C'mon, this is Y/n, we know her, there’s nothing that woman can’t do.”
“How do you know huh?!” Will exploded, running his hands through his hair in frustration and desperation.
“I just know Will, she’ll make it, I'm sure of it,” Jay replied more calmly, moving closer to his brother. This time he was the one to hug him although Will resisted for a while, telling him to let him go. Jay didn't do it, he continued to hug him and hold him until he gave up and returned the hug.
Will cried on Jay's shoulders for the longest time, praying with every fiber of his being and whoever was up there to make you survive, to make you okay.
“I just want her back…” he whispered, not sure if Jay had heard him.
Jay helped him sit back down. “And you’ll get her back, just have a little faith. She is so strong man, do you really think she’ll leave us like this? C’mon, she has to be here and annoy us for the rest of our lives.”
Will chuckled through his tears, his eyes so blurry he couldn't make out the objects in front of him. He and Jay sat in that waiting room, waiting for hours to hear from you as he kept desperately praying.
Will sat with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees while he continued to move a leg obsessively.
He had always tried to calm the patients' families, never fully understanding how they must really feel. But now that he knew, he felt guilty for not trying harder.
Please stay with me baby. Please just hang on for a little bit, please fight for us.
He had never understood what it felt like to be completely useless, what it felt like to be unable to do anything for the person you loved most in the world, to be unable to do anything to prevent that person from suffering.
He had always sworn to protect you, to not let anything hurt you and he felt like a failure for not being able to do this. He wished that damned bullet had hit him, that it had been him on the operating table having to fight for his life.
At every slightest noise he jumped, hoping it was Connor bringing good news but when he finally actually saw him appear in front of him, he feared it was just a hallucination.
Connor approached Will and Jay who jumped to their feet as soon as they saw him arrive.
“How did it go? Is she okay? Please tell me he's okay, Connor,” Will stammered, his heart beating so fast he thought he was going to have a massive heart attack.
“It was tough but she did well. The bullet had hit an artery and I managed to extract it but she lost a lot of blood and the next few hours will be delicate. But I'm pretty optimistic and she'll make a full recovery.”
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Dream Partner
Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader
A/N: Connor is my bae now. I started watching med and i’m OBSESSED. God I love him. also sorry i’ve been like MIA? I just haven’t had the motivation to write :(
Lmk if you guys like this by REBLOGGING AND LIKING AND COMMENTING!!! Support your writers 🤞🏻🩵
warnings: alcohol, fluff, confessing feelings
“Y/N, truth or dare.” Ethan asks from across the table at Molly’s.
Most of you guys from the hospital decided drinks after shift would be fun, but now that they’re bringing in games, this isn’t going to end well for you.
Sucking in a deep breath you scrunch your nose in response, “Sorry, but I think it’s time for me to go home!” You say a little sarcastically because you don’t want to leave, but you don’t want to play the game.
“No, no, no, no, you’re not leaving me here with these maniacs.” Natalie said grabbing the back of your coat and sitting you back into your chair.
You glanced around the table of your colleagues and sighed. Whatever.
You and Ethan were sitting across from each other on the end of the table. Will sitting next to Ethan, and Natalie sitting next to you. Maggie sitting next to Will closest to the wall, then finally Connor sitting next to Natalie across from Maggie.
“Herrmann, get me another shot!” You yelled from across the bar earning a thumbs up and an eye roll before looking back at Ethan.
“You’re on. Dare.” You say confidently as Herrmann sets down another shot of tequila in front of you.
“I dare you to try and get as many phone numbers as you can from guys in this bar in under 2 minutes. Depending on how many you get is what determines your punishment.” Ethan says with a coy smile making your jaw drop.
“Woah, punishment?” You ask a little lost.
“Like if you get 5 or less, you take 3 shots, 6-15, only 2 shots, and then 16+ you can give me a dare twice as bad. With a punishment.”
“You’re so on.” You say taking your tequila shot and hopping off your stool.
“You timer starts…Now!” Ethan says starting your two minute timer.
As you walk away you pull your shirt down exposing a little more cleavage in hopes that would raise your chances as you make your way around the bar.
Exhausted and out of breath, 2 minutes later you make your way back to the table.
“Damn it.” Is all you say with a sigh as you sit down.
“How many did you get? 3?” Ethan asks with a smirk not confident in your abilities at all.
Exhaling deeply you roll your eyes and pull out the napkin you had every number on.
“Not quite…” You say looking disappointedly down at your results.
“Only…23 numbers.” You say looking up at Ethan’s dropped jaw. As the rest of the table hypes you up, you bask in the success.
“Now what did you say, I get to double the punishment?” You ask in a smart ass tone.
“Yep.”
“Hm, okay! Truth or dare Ethan? Choose wisely.” You say with a wink earning an eye roll.
“Truth.” He says sighing obviously still butt hurt.
“Is someone a chicken?” You ask pointedly making everyone else laugh.
“Nope. Just have fun coming up with someone that’s worth double the punishment for a truth.” He says taking a sip of his drink making you huff. If he wants to play it that way, then so be it.
“Have you ever filmed a sex tape?” You ask with the words rolling off your tongue. Ethan’s face turns bright red as the people at your table feel the awkward tension between you two.
“Remember, be truthful or you can choose to not answer for 4 shots.” You add while taking a sip of your own drink.
“No answer.” Is all Ethan says as he starts taking his shots as everyone else as the table dies from laughter.
After a few minutes of silence and miscellaneous conversations the table settles down. Making you forget about the game completely.
“Okay, okay, Y/N, truth or dare.” Natalie asks you to which you respond with an eye roll.
“Shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn?”
“Nah, you’re good at this game. You make it entertaining, pick one.” Natalie says making you chuckle.
“Truth. I don’t want to get up again.” You say giving her a pleading look.
“Describe your perfect dream partner. From head to toe, first thing that comes to your mind.”
“Do you want me to paint your nails next too? What is this a 12 year olds birthday party?” You ask laughing making her lightly hit your shoulder.
“I don’t even know where to start.” You whine making her give you a look of disbelief. You stare at your fingers that your fidgeting with as you start to think of your dream type.
“Okay, uh, Brown hair. Brunettes are alway cute.” You trail off not really knowing what to say next.
“Go on…” Natalie urges you making you rub your forehead from stress.
“I like green or blue eyes, wait just blue eyes. I like the deep ocean-y blue ones, not really icy. A stubble is always cute, or a little bit of facial hair. Oh and he needs to be tall, or taller than me at least.”
“Okay… give us some personality.” Will says with you rolling your eyes in response.
“God you people are needy!” You say faking annoyance. The alcohol has really helped in you not really caring with these things. “Confident but not cocky. Funny, able to take a joke and match energy. Communicates. Empathetic, and passionate. Pretty smile. Oh and respects me and my body or boundaries. ”
“Oh those are good,” Maggie adds making you blush a little.
“Hm. Give us some ideal careers.” Will adds making you think. Also a little suspicious. Why is he so interested.
“Surgeon.” You say without thinking.
“I need to be with someone who understands our job and is able to work with me on not having the most accommodative schedule. Or an NHL player so I can become his trophy wife.” You say with a smile toasting your beer with Natalie who mutters a ‘true that’.”
Before anyone really responds you a hear a soft chuckle from across the table. Will.
“What’s so funny?” You ask slightly glaring at him.
“You know, I was putting the puzzle pieces together, and you know who sounds like your Dream Partner Y/N?” He asks making you confused.
“Humor me, Will.” You say because you weren’t specifically thinking about anyone while describing your ideal type. It’s just your type that’s all.
“Mr. Connor Rhodes over here.” He says with a smirk making your face drop at the realization.
“Hm. Yeah, actually that makes a lot of sense.” Natalie says after thinking it over.
“Yeah the brown hair, stubble, blue ocean eyes, not the icy ones!” Ethan adds making you kick his shin under the table.
You can’t see Connor’s reaction to all of this but you know it’s probably not good. You wipe your hands down your face before you decide to get up, “I’m gonna go get another drink.” You say announcing your departure as you walk away.
Fuck what were you thinking. You and Connor? Dating? More than friends? Of course it crossed your mind, but for it to be a reality? Hell no. You can’t even imagine how much he doesn’t like you. He’s always second-guessing your choices as a doctor, and you’re never on the same page with anything.
It seems like he always has a problem with you, so now that you basically told him to his face he’s your dream type. That’s embarrassing.
Resting your head on the bar counter in front of you, you try your hardest not to cry from embarrassment right here right now.
Feeling a soft hand on your shoulder, you keep your face buried in your arms not willing to face Natalie or Will right now.
“Go away, Will.” You mutter but instead of the person walking away, you feel their presence shift to sit in the seat next to you.
“It’s not Will.” You hear Connor say making your face blush even more. Fuck why did he have to come over here. He’s probably going to give you the talk that, ‘As flattering as it is that you have a secret crush on me, I’m gonna have to say we’re better as friends.’ No way, you’re not putting yourself through that tonight.
“Oh. Well you can go away too.” You mutter again.
“Can we talk?” He asks in a softer tone making you basically become the whole emotion on embarrassment. God why tonight?
“I’d rather not.” You say still not lifting your head up.
“That’s fine. I can talk…just, listen?”
Finally lifting your head up and looking Connor in the eye you sigh.
“I-”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this awkward position where you feel obligated to come reassure me and gently let me down, saying ‘you’re flattered but we’re better as friends.’ Because I know, not that we’re really friends and I’m pretty sure you hate me but that’s besides the point. I understand. Now I’m going to excuse myself saying I’ll go to the bathroom, when i’m probably just going to walk out the door. Have a good night Connor.”
“Y/N wait!” He says grabbing your elbow to stop you from walking away.
“No, it’s okay,”
“No. Let me talk.” He pleads looking you in the eye. This sends butterflies to your stomach and also makes you overly aware of him touching your arm right now. Oh my god, Connor Rhodes is touching your arm right now. You could faint.
Sighing you sit back down next to him. Turning your chair so your knees are facing each other and you guys are sideways to the bar counter you run your hand through your hair as a nervously.
“I’m sorry that Will put you in that position, I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it and that was kind of a dick move on his part, I’m also sorry I gave you the idea I don’t like you. Because I do, a lot. Thats partially the reason Will was pushing you to share so much. I always thought you never liked me, and they’ve been trying to convince me to ask you out. So now I guess, that’s what i’m doing? Y/N, would you want to-”
“Wow, Connor um…” You say interrupting him quietly, shocked from his confession.
“And now this is the part you try to let me down gently?” He asks chuckling a little but obviously hurt.
“No! No, i’m just surprised is all. We’ve just never really agreed on anything as doctors and I was convinced that you always had something against me…I never really thought of the idea of us together. I guess I never really allowed myself too. I mean, like, I would love to go out with you don’t get me wrong…But if this is just out of pity because I ran off embarrassed, again I hope you don’t feel obligated to-” You say rambling but he cuts you off.
“Y/N, that’s not what I’m doing. I want to do this. I like you, a lot.”
Another blush creeps onto your face as you make eye contact with Connor. Your heart is in your throat, not really knowing what to say you smile shyly.
“So will you please, go out with me?” He asks furrowing his brow in anticipation of your answer.
“Yes,” You say smiling a little awkwardly because you don’t know where to go from here.
“And now is the part where one of you invites each other to their house, and then you guys make beautiful drunken love, allllll night!” Will says coming in between you guys, holding each of your shoulders.
“Will, if you don’t get out of my sight in the next 5 seconds I’m going to punch you in the mouth.” You say with your eyes not leaving Connor’s as he sits back in his seat and snickers.
As you and Connor both get up to leave, Connor grabs your hand to guide you out behind him.
“Wanna come back to my place?” Connor asks once you both are outside.
“I’d like that.” You say grabbing his other hand holding them between you guys.
Before you would even be able to prepare let alone register what was going to happen, Connor leaned down and placed his lips on yours.
It was a soft but needy kiss that you only broke because you needed air. Only pulling away far enough to rest his forehead against yours you both chuckle.
“I like you too, Connor.” You whisper as he places his lips back on yours and smiles in between the kisses.
#connor rhodes one shot#connor rhodes x reader#one chicago#chicago med#connor rhodes fanfic#connor rhodes#y/n#one shot#fluffy#angst#cute ending#i love connor rhodes#will halstead#one chicago x reader#chicago med x reader#connor rhodes chicago med
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I love how you draw small decor forgo in your resurrection au. And the whole Au is such a cool concept! I also love void’s little horns.
Thank you!
#in case it's not clear he's getting his nails done#thanks for the kind words! my brain is shot from allergy meds atm so i can't articulate a good response. but i appreciate it nonetheless.#elfilin#fecto forgo#res!au
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Comfortable - Connor Rhodes
Requested: yes
Word count: 515
Warnings: mention of sex, that’s really it
A/n: sorry I’ve sucked at requests lately, I’ve been heavy into my fics and very into Matt who I don’t get many asks for so,,,
Masterlist
You knew that your boyfriend had an… iffy childhood to say the least. His father had been the bane of his existence for as long as the surgeon could remember. Connor hated him and the feeling was mutual. So there wasn’t much affection from the older Rhodes, and considering she was gone there was none from his other either.
That would mess with anyone, going years without that sort of attention. And Connor looked for it everywhere. His college years were filled with sex, one night stands that got him through the nights.
Even before he moved back to Chicago there was never someone that he felt that connection to. Nobody that knew how to go about what he wanted.
Until you. Coming into the ED with a sprained wrist was probably the best thing that ever happened to you. Getting knocked over by a toddler and using your hand to catch your fall? Bad idea, but it led you right to a bed in the emergency room with none other than Dr. Rhodes checking it out and wrapping it up.
And soon enough that lunch you asked him to, turned into dinner, which went from a one off thing to getting drinks every few days, and eventually led to where you were now all those months later. Laying in his bed, wrapped up in his arms.
Yeah the sex was good, he had experience and therefore knew what he was doing. But he was used to the girl beside him being someone he met that day that was itching to leave either right away or at least in the morning.
But you were different. Since day one you’d shown him that you cared. That he was more than just a warm body. Instead of his arms around you, he had his head to your chest, lazily wrapped around you. “You’re comfortable.” Connor mumbled, lips squished as his check was pressed to your skin.
Lightly you laughed, lifting a hand up to rake it through his hair. “I’m glad to hear that.” You breathed out, feeling him nuzzle up to you. That was his way of showing his contentment, his face rubbing into your skin wherever he was, was the equivalent of a cat slipping through your legs, desperate to show you affection.
“I like when you do that.” He sighed out through his nose as you scratched gently at his scalp. One of the things you actually adored was the way that he felt comfortable enough with you to vocalize what he felt and what he wanted.
You looked down at him, fondness encircling your chest. “I love you.” There hadn’t felt like a better time to finally say it, being with him in his bed just holding him. Feeling his skin on yours. You just had to.
Connor lifted his head, looking back at you, eyes filled with adoration. “I love you too.” He responded softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips before leaning back down, once again snuggling into your side.
Your touch the only thing he needed.
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Tags: @winchesterszvonecek , @everything-fandom , @thebejeweledwatercat , @mrspeacem1nusone , @wnbweasley , @alexxavicry , @halsteadbrasil , @natashamea18 , @katieemazz, @firetruckstuckley
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could you do a connor piece with these two prompts? theyre not from the same list so i hope thats okay 🩷
"I'm not gonna let you cum no matter how much you want it."
+
“So, what's going on between you and [name] recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden."
and its like the reader is a firefighter at 51 and close to kelly or casey / got closer to one of them and yeah :)
All Yours - [ Connor Rhodes ] 18+
Prompt: “So, what’s going on between you and [name] recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” + “I’m not gonna let you cum no matter how much you want it.”
Word Count: 2550 i couldn’t stop myself
Warnings: female!reader, strong language, jealousy, possessiveness, smut - [ vaginal fingering, oral - fem!receiving, edging, dirty talk… so much dirty talk, unprotected sex ]
A/N: i was so nervous to post this cause it feels so goddamn filthy but i did it anyway so hopefully y’all enjoy it and i didn’t go way off the rails lmao
Masterlist | Connor Masterlist
You knew something was wrong the minute you got into the car and Connor hadn’t immediately kissed your cheek then asked you how your shift was. You could tell simply by the way he stayed silent the whole ride home, his hands gripping the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles had turned white and you were surprised they hadn’t broken through his skin.
It was unlike him to not ask you a hundred questions revolving around your day at work, and even more unlike him not to kiss you, so if you hadn’t been suspicious enough, then his stiff posture and lack of eye contact with you would have been evidence enough. And when he didn’t place his hand on your thigh each time you stopped at a red light, you knew you were in trouble, only you had no idea why.
You didn’t know what was bothering him, what you could have done to make him this way, and in all honesty you were scared to ask which is why you stayed as quiet as he did during the ride home. But the second you stepped foot into your shared apartment, where you’d just about managed to find the courage to ask him what was wrong, Connor beat you to it and he wasn’t at all subtle in hiding his obvious annoyance over what he’d seen when he came to pick you up.
“So, what’s going on between you and Casey recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” Connor asked, his tone a little bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the couch as you tilted your head a little, ignoring the anger that built inside him when you laughed softly.
“Me and Casey?” You shook your head, glancing briefly around the room before your eyes landed back on him. “Connor, I’ve told you this before, he’s my Lieutenant, that’s it. Nothing more” You added, scoffing a little at the insinuation he was so clearly making as you made your way to the bedroom, deciding you’d heard enough of what he had to say.
You’d had this conversation with him once before when he caught Casey hugging you in the hospital after a rough call and that hadn’t gone well so he could forgive you for not wanting to go down that road again.
“Oh really? Well it seems to me like he thinks differently… Especially if the way he looked at you when I picked you up said anything on the matter.” Connor said with a touch more anger as he followed you into the room, even the sight of the eighty-one shirt covering your torso enough to have his blood boil over the memory of how Casey had looked at you.
“How he looked at me?” You repeated, your tone matching his as you couldn’t believe he was making you go through this again. “Tell me Connor, how was he looking at me? Cause if it was anything less than with drool coming from his mouth then I don’t want to hear it.”
“He might as well have been drooling.” Connor scoffed, pulling his shirt over his head with such haste that he was surprised his head hadn’t come off with it. “The way he watched you… Practically fucking you with his eyes right in front of me.”
“For God sakes, Connor.” You muttered in frustration, pulling your own shirt off and tossing it in the hamper. All you wanted was a quiet morning after work, but it appeared as though your fiancée thought otherwise and little did you know… “How many times do I have to tell you? Casey does not want to fuck me. And even if he did…”
Unaware that Connor had been moving towards you, your words were cut off when you suddenly felt your chest hit hard against the wall, sending a tingle down your front which quickly made its way between your legs when you felt Connor push up against you, lifting your hands to pin them above your head, making you unable to see how he stared at you the very same way he’d accused Casey of.
“What? Would you let him fuck you?” He whispered, his voice so deep he was practically growling as he attached his lips to your neck, the pure heat coursing through your veins making you unable to reply.
You could feel his free hand snake around your waist, his fingertips trailing down your stomach before they delved beneath your trousers, ghosting over your already throbbing pussy and causing a soft moan to escape your lips as you leaned back against him, his hardened bulge pressing firmly against your ass.
“Would you let him pin you down in his office and fuck that tight little pussy of yours?” Connor whispered into your ear, his teeth digging gently into your lobe as he tugged on it, hearing the muttered swear words that left your lips in response. “Answer me baby… If he wanted to… Would you let your Lieutenant fuck you?”
“No.” You gasped softly at the coldness of his fingers as they pushed aside your panties, trailing themselves painfully slowly across your soaking slit as Connor made sure not to touch your clit as he wanted to hear you beg for it. “No I wouldn’t.”
“And why’s that?” Connor asked in intrigue as he always thought you had a little school girl crush on Casey before you met him. He pulled his hand from your panties and flipped you round, once again pinning your hands firmly above your head. The first thing he noticed about you was the lust that had blown wide in your pupils, your breathing heavy as you all but panted which only had him straining that much more against his pants.
“Because…” You breathed out, clenching your legs to try and feel some friction against the raving heat beneath them. “…you’re the only one I want to fuck me… The only one whose cock I want to feel inside me.”
“Hm, good answer.” Connor hummed in satisfaction, pressing his lips hard against you as you all but devoured each other. His hold on your hands faltered, allowing them to fall to your sides before you moved to unbuckled his belt, the only thing he allowed you to do before he took your hands in his, stilling your motions. “Not so fast… I think you deserve a little punishment beforehand, don’t you?”
“Punishment? For what?” You asked, almost finding yourself angry again as you thought you’d made it clear to him that you’d never dream of cheating on him with Casey. That was, until you saw the way he smirked, his eyes darkening as he imagined all the ways he could have you squirming beneath him and that’s when you knew you were done for.
“For being so goddamn hot that every guy who meets you wants to fuck you.” And with that, the words that had you smiling like crazy, Connor lifted you off your feet and threw you down onto the bed, towering over you as his hands roamed across your skin, feeling the hotness of it mix with that of his cold hands.
He gripped the cups of your bra, pulling it down to allow your breasts to spill over the edge, his mouth cupping one of them instantly whilst his hand went to the other, kneading it softly as he flicked and pinched at the hardened bud between his fingers, making you hum softly as your threaded your fingers through his hair.
You were already a soaking mess by the time he moved lower, his fingers hooking around the waistband of both your pants and your panties, which he pulled off you in one quick motion before he got to his knees, spreading you open to see the glistening sight that was your pussy.
“Look at you.” Connor teased, pacing soft kisses up your inner thigh, his stubble scratching you lightly as his arm slid across your stomach, holding you down to stop you from arching your back too high. “Absolutely dripping… And all for me.”
“Only you, baby.” You gasped, followed by a low moan as he slipped one finger inside you, which was enough for you to almost lose your train of thought. “Fuck… Only for you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Connor chuckled, in a way that told you that you were more than likely about to have to beg for your life. “Now be a good girl and moan for me while I fuck my fingers into your pretty little pussy.”
You did what you were told as he slid a second finger into you, knuckle deep before he pulled back, thrusting them into you once again and keeping a steady rhythm. The noises they made were not at all quiet as you knew how wet you were, how absolutely soaking you got when he took control like this, but then again, neither were you.
Your moans echoed off the walls, probably reaching the neighbours which you’d normally be embarrassed about but right now you didn’t care. You were simply in heaven as he continued to finger fuck you, curling them slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. It had barely been a minute before you already found yourself clenching tightly around his fingers, about to come harder than you’d ever done before.
That was, until Connor pulled them out, making you whine at the loss of contact and look down at him, just in time to see him suck the glisten of you off his fingers.
“Oh, did you think I was gonna let you give in so quickly?” He asked, moaning softly at the taste of you on his fingers as he licked them once again. “Baby, I’m not gonna let you come no matter how much you want it.”
The second the words left his lips he’d attached them to your pussy, sucking gently on your clit before his tongue worked its way downwards. Eating you out like you were his first meal in days which had you whimpering as you all but levitated off the bed, gripping the sheets for dear life as you’d never felt anything quite like how his tongue felt inside you.
Five times Connor brought you to the edge of your climax, allowing you to see briefly over the edge before he pulled you away, his mouth leaving you as you let out a stifled sob. You couldn’t take another second let alone another minute of him denying you what you wanted. You were desperate. So fucking desperate for him to make you come that you could feel your eyes stinging with tears, your lower abdomen tightening more than ever before as it slowly reached the brink of being painful.
“Connor please.” Your breath hitched as you spoke, your body shaking from the edging he was so thoroughly enjoying. “Please… I can’t… I can’t take it anymore, please let me come.”
“You want to come baby?” Connor said softly, rubbing a slow circle against your swollen clit, making you whimper quietly to yourself as your hips bucked involuntarily. “You want me to make you come?”
“Yes… Yes, please make me come.” You begged, propping yourself up on your shaky elbows to look at him. “Please… I want you to make me come so fucking bad, baby. Want you to make me come so hard I scream your name.”
“Tell me you’re mine.” Connor said seriously, unbuttoning his pants as he readied himself to make good on his promise. “Tell me you’re mine and I’ll fuck you so good you’ll scream my name loud enough that the whole city hears it.”
“I’m yours.” You said instantly, biting down hard on your lip as he pushed down his pants, freeing his already leaking and thick cock from beneath them. “I’m all yours. My heart. My pussy… All of it belongs to you.”
“Good girl.” Connor cooed, tracing his tip down your slick folds, pushing it in just a little as he smeared your arousal down the length of it. “Now get on your hands and knees.”
You moved quicker than before, barely settling yourself down on your knees before you felt him come up behind you, his erection brushing against your inner thigh as he settled himself nicely behind you, the bed the perfect height to allow him to stand which you knew meant he wasn’t going to be gentle at all. And right now, right now you wanted it rough.
“Give it to me, baby… Let me feel that thick cock in my tight little pussy.” You murmured, knowing that you talking dirty always riled him up, which it did as the second the words left your lips he’d pushed into, bottoming out in one quick motion and he was anything but slow as he began to pound mercilessly into you.
Your back arched, your chin pushed deep into the mattress as you bit down onto it, stifling your cries as your body trembled in pure pleasure, the slight pain of Connor’s roughness and lack of allowing you to adjust to his size only adding to the heat that pumped through your veins.
“Fuck… Yes baby, give it to me. Fucking give it to me. Yes.” You cried out, pushing your ass out further before you felt a sharp sting across it, Connor having slapped it before digging his fingers deep into the flesh of it, sure to leave bruises come the next morning.
“Taking it so good, baby.” Connor groaned, his hips moving furiously as he continued to slam into you, the sound of how wet your pussy was like music to his ears, as were your moans which he’d never heard quite as pleasure driven before. He could feel you clamping down around him, about to burst any second now as he gave you exactly what you wanted. “That’s it, sweetheart, come for me.”
As though on command, you clamped down fully, pure ecstasy flowing fast throughout your veins as you came harder than ever before, making good on your word of screaming his name as you couldn’t help but allow it to cross your lips. You couldn’t begin to describe this moment, your head was fuzzy, your eyes were clouded over in white as you felt your very spirit leave your body, and for a second you thought you’d ascended into heaven, that was until your name slipping from Connor’s lips as he came inside you pulled you back to reality.
“Fuck, Connor…” You exhaled, no air left in your burning lungs as he’d fucked it all out of you. “I think… I think… God, I don’t even know what to think.” Your body fell flat against the bed, your thighs sticking together from a mixture of yourself and Connor, whose release was slowly dripping out of you.
Connor chuckled, flipping your now limp body over so you lay on your back, making it easy for him to see your flushed face as he towered over you, gently brushing his thumb across your lips before he spoke.
“You know what I think… I think… You did so well in letting everyone in Chicago know that you're mine… And mine only.”
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#chicago med#chicago med one shot#chicago med x reader#chicago med fanfiction#chicago med oneshot#chicago med connor rhodes#connor rhodes oneshot#connor rhodes#connor rhodes smut#connor rhodes x reader#connor rhodes one shot#connor rhodes fanfiction#connor rhodes imagine#connor rhodes fanfic#connor rhodes x you#x reader#reader insert#winchesterszvonecek#one chicago#one chicago x reader
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NICE GUYS FINISH LAST // KNJ
you’re still so pretty
+
strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and then.. strangers again?
navi | m. list | ask me! |
pairing:
med student nam joon + med student oc
au/genre:
high school sweethearts to exes to ???
fluff !! slight angst
note: cute little one shot in my drafts… idrk whats going on but it’s giving meet cute vibes!!! enj!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar
One thing people never talk about is the loneliness that comes hand-in-hand with being ambitious.
You lose friends, opportunities, and even love.
Feeling the need to prove the world and others wrong—getting so lost in your strength that you’ve become weak—it’s not a life everyone can live. The exchange of your success came at the cost of having your loved ones as collateral damage.
Kim Nam Joon was exactly that for you.
Though you two didn’t end on a sour note, the memories and possibilities of you and him leaves a bittersweet taste in your tongue. Thinking of him, speaking of him, and missing him comes in waves. Yet, with each memory, you gladly drown.
Others argue that you bloomed late while your parents like to defend you and say you’re too good to settle for anyone less. Your parents, however, kept their mouths shut whenever it came to Nam Joon.
They liked him.
He was practically accepted and assumed to be the one you marry… It’s silly, isn’t it? For parents to see stars in their daughter’s eyes at such a young age and understand why.
From what you can remember, he was a quiet nerd who helped others but was also good at identifying when he was being used. There was a difference. He held your bookbag, dropped you off at class, and always sat with you and your friends at lunch. His friends would tease him about how whipped he was for you and your parents would often bicker about how young you two were to be that inseparable.
So when it ended—because nothing at the age of 17 really lasts—he didn’t know if it was over or if it was truly over. Partly because you didn’t sound cold when you asked for space and the distance that grew between you two had given you both time to accept the inevitable. Still, when it happened it felt utterly confusing. For weeks, he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d changed your mind before the summer ended and went on to your separate ways… In case you changed your mind—if a single ounce of you wanted to give the long-distance a fucking try—he had a plan.
The plan.
Calls are to occur every Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Calling every night might get tiring, but it’s okay if the calls increase due to missing each other.
Good morning texts every day.
Visiting each other should be done through turn-taking. He’ll go to you first.
Fly home every big holiday.
Shit like that.
He wondered if you would change your mind before he[‘d have to force himself to get over you. Then, he wondered if you would even think about changing your mind at all. Until suddenly, he realizes that you never even asked.
You probably never even thought about him.
You two broke up the summer before University. You both told everyone that your dream schools were at opposite ends of the world. Knowing you both could make it; it was hard for others to disagree. However, Nam Joon began to feel a bit of resentment as the breakup became more and more real. Deciding that long-distance would complicate your study and work schedules was a practical decision—but it was not his.
It was yours.
He’s almost certain that the decision was made out of 80% of logic, 5% out of love, and 15% out of insecurity.
You’ve never failed anything in your life. Perhaps, love is no exception.
As the seasons changed, time flew and the breakup felt like a summernight dream. It slowly became a topic that only popped up once in a while, and when it did, you spoke of it like how it felt. It felt kind and sweet. Like the aftertaste of strawberry milk candies and craving for more, like the way you finish a good book where the characters don’t die and nothing feels tragic, but a part of you wishes you hadn’t reached the end. That, if you could, you would reread the pages as if you never knew a thing. You spoke of your puppy love like how love felt; love felt like him.
The peace you’ve made with your feelings for him suddenly begins to panic as a familiar tall and dimple smile greets you. Cheesy to say, but too difficult to deny—all the memories of him begin to flood your mind as he approaches.
With his heart on his sleeve, he stands before you.
“Long time no see, ___.”
His smile is the same.
The way his lips curve perfectly reminds you of how they felt against your neck. He had that habit—smiling into a kiss that is. His hair is shaved, earning a good laugh from you. You’ve never seen him so… Manly?
“Kim Nam Joon,” you gush. “Wow, it’s been a while.”
Offering your hand, he stares at it and chuckles. His shoulders are much broader now, so his body language is much more noticeable. It suits him.
“Too formal, ___.” Nam Joon laughs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Gently, he places a kiss on your knuckles and squeezes them. To others, this may be forward… To you, it’s just right. He always greeted you like this. A part of your heart is relieved he hasn’t changed that much. “But, yeah... It has been a while. 6 years to be exact!”
“You kept count?” Your eyebrows knit together, teasingly. He gives you a playful irritated look, causing your heart to melt a little.
“You know what I mean… I just—I didn’t know you were back in Korea. You don’t use social media so it’s a little hard to hear anything about you.”
To his dismay, it was difficult to get any news from you. Nam Joon would be lying if he said he hadn’t been asking around about you or if he hadn’t stayed up once in a while attempting to find your name on social media. Your closest friends moved on with their lives and careers; no one had time to reminisce on old high school sweethearts.
Except him.
“I finished my degree and then came back here for this med program. That was my plan, remember? It was always the plan. Nothing has changed,” you confess. “I thought you’d be way further into med school than me. You always talked about getting it done as fast as possible.”
He shrugs. “I took a gap… For like, 2 years and then failed 1 course… Twice.”
In complete shock, you gasp. “Kim Nam Joon… Failed? Twice at that?”
“It was a tough class! I fucking hate Psychology. Why do we even need it in pre-med? Like—”
You burst into tears. Tears of joy. Laughter, really.
“Y-you failed… P-psych? The easiest fucking course in the universe?”
Nam Joon shoots you a glare.
“My prof was crazy.”
“So are you for failing a fucking psych class!”
Nam Joon lets you have your moment. You continue to laugh, having a difficult time believing in his claim. As you continue to make fun, he makes himself comfortable, taking a seat next to you.
“Are we done? Can we please move on?” Nam Joon groans in embarrassment.
Composing yourself, you give in to his wish. “Some things never change, huh? You still make me laugh.”
His eyes soften. “You’re mean for using my failure as your source of joy.”
Then, you laugh again. You hit his shoulder, unable to contain your fun. Then, your eyes widen as your hand makes contact with his body.
Unhinged, you tell him, “Holy shit. You’re huge!”
Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he almost chokes on air.
You turn red.
“Y-you know what I mean!” You shove him playfully. It makes no difference. You barely moved him.
Nam Joon then begins to empty his bag. Taking out his laptop, he explains himself. “Ahhh. I met a few friends who are absolute gym rats. If I’m not studying, I’m at the gym with them.”
Teasingly, you gasp again. “Ohhh? So I have no insane drinking party stories to hear from you?”
Shaking his head with a smug smile, he answers you. “No.. There are definitely some insane drinking party stories for you to hear… Maybe after class? We could grab a cup of coffee and catch up.” He suggests. He isn’t sure what had gotten into him to be so rash, but he missed you. Seeing you again, his body automatically made its way to you.
You nod, feeling a little warm. “Sure! I’ve missed you.”
His heart skips a beat.
He missed you too.
The coffee hangout goes well.
You catch Nam Joon up with everything you’ve been up to. All the friends and people you’ve met abroad and how you finally learned how to ride a bike at the ripe age of twenty. He teases you for learning so late and you nag him about getting his driver’s license. To which, he said he acquired… Just a month ago.
At that moment, he feels like nothing has changed even though so much has.
You were braver.
A lot more confident with your words and posture and Nam Joon was calmer and oddly a little funnier than you remember. Maybe you missed his quirky jokes and random “fun facts.” Whatever it was, it caused you to exchange numbers and constantly be texting back and forth.
Suddenly, two months go by, and he’s back to being your best friend.
You feel like you’re 17 again. Your days with him are filled with late-night study dates and bike rides around his favorite spots on campus. Honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way. For the first time in a while, you finally felt like you were home.
Finally, he had persuaded you to join him and his friends at the gym. Your AirPods are in and you’re running on the treadmill as Jungkook, Seokjin, and Nam Joon crowd around the weights. Nam Joon is spotting Jungkook. As he lifts the heavyweights, Jungkook strikes the conversation first.
“Are you two getting back together?”
“What?”
“You and ___,” Jungkook grunts as he finishes his rep. “Everyone is assuming so and I want to be the first one with confirmation... Makes me feel special.”
Nam Joon rolls his eyes and turns to check on you. With longing eyes, he assures his friends: “we’re just friends.”
Seokjin pokes his head in and laughs. “Shut up. Being funny is my thing.”
“Seriously!” Nam Joon urges. “Sure, we talk about the past and all but.. Not about us—nothing about us. And.. And I don’t think she wants to? It’s weird… And it’s okay. I rather it is like this than to make things awkward and not have her around anymore.”
Jungkook drops the weights and sighs.
“Ahh! Exactly my point!”
He and Seokjin share a look and bump shoulders with Nam Joon. They’re completely aware of how their friend was looking at the girl he had loved once and can’t help but feel like something about this situation felt unfinished.
“This is fate, you know?” Jungkook insists. “You two were in love and then it wasn’t the right time so you guys broke up. You guys were young back then… It was practical. But, she’s back and you still love her. It’s the right time. Now, this is the part where you try again.”
Nam Joon can’t help but feel like an idiot.
“Fuck off, Kook,” Nam Joon orders. “It’s over. I’m lucky to even just be her friend again. Besides, she probably has a boyfriend.”
Seokjin squints at Nam Joon in disbelief. “... Well, have you even asked her if she’s seeing someone?”
All three boys look dumbfounded.
No one knows what to say.
Would it be weird to ask such a thing? Of course, Nam Joon was curious, but a part of him kind of figured that talking about your current relationship status wouldn’t be the best icebreaker for you two.
“Look man, it doesn’t matter. You’re her ex. Her first boyfriend ever! You have rights.” Jungkook encourages. He picks up his water bottle and begins to chug.
Seokjin hits Jungkook’s stomach mid-gulp. “Rights? Kook, I think that’s for people who have kids and are having difficulty co-parenting—”
“He has rights!” Jungkook defends sternly. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he pats Nam Joon on the back. “Just ask her if she’s seeing someone… If not, ask her out. Try again.”
“What makes you think I want to try again?” Nam Joon scuffs and his two friends roll their eyes.
Jungkook and Seokjin share a look.
“You have been missing her your entire life. She’s back. A few giggles here and there and you ditch us for two months straight… Only to reach out and invite her to our gym to work out with us! No shade, but this is bro time!” Jungkook cries. “Also, you talk about it all the time when you’re 7 shots in. You haven’t had a girlfriend… Since her, right? Just hook-ups and a few flings… But no one is like her and that’s probably why.” Then, Jungkook hits Nam Joon’s head and sighs.
“No one is her.”
The three turn their attention to you. Two guys approach you and begin a conversation. Nam Joon observes and it causes Jungkook and Seokjin to chuckle.
“Time is ticking my friend. Tik tok, tik tok…” Jungkook makes an effort to let out a devious laugh. Nam Joon’s eyes begin to glow green and it satisfies his two friends. “Nice guys finish last… Ex boyfriends finish first!”
Jungkook leans towards Seokjin and whispers: “Looks like someone will be pulling ex-boyfriend card soon.”
With that, Seokjin and Jungkook switch. Seokjin lifts the weights and Jungkook helps to spot him. Nam Joon should look away, but he can’t. His eyes are glued to the way you’re laughing at the two boys who are trying too hard to impress you.
Mid lift, Seokjin teases Jungkook.
“You used the term “bro time,” right? You’re such a fucking loser, Kook.”
Nam Joon felt different though.
He felt like the fucking loser.
Nam Joon doesn’t call or text you as often as he did before.
Since that gym session, he had begun to act a little distant. Like he was trying to set boundaries or something. It felt odd that his actions felt familiar. You felt a little ache in your heart and your head hurt.
The past few weeks have not been easy for Nam Joon as well. He felt like an absolute dick for ignoring your warmth. He tried to excuse it by saying that he was too busy with his assignments and studying. So badly does he want to pull away from you; but it felt draining. He wanted to be near you and the fear of you not wanting him back was definitely taking a toll on him.
It was confusing though.
In the middle of the night, he’d come over once to give back your textbooks in exchange for a few of his hoodies. It didn’t feel real seeing him at midnight. Some nights, he’d come over a little damp from the midnight rain. As you let him into your place, all you can think to yourself is: damn. I think I’m still in love with this man.
So, yes.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. With each passing day, his presence made you nervous. If his coming over at midnight wasn’t bad enough—it was the 9am’s with him that was worse. It was more about how close you two sat next to each other and how intimate these labs were. With each little moment of fingertips brushing, bumping into each other and him steadying you with his hands on your waist, and the little nose scrunch exchanges—the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy.
Fine.
Maybe you did fail once in your life.
You failed to be honest. You failed to fight for him. You failed to be someone to him that stays.
Nam Joon wasn’t having much fun either.
You’ve always been so pretty to him. He especially loved whenever you two had study dates because he could watch you furrow your eyebrows, reread the same sentences, and mumble formulas and concepts to yourself over and over again. If he was lucky, he’d look up at the right time and catch you sighing from frustration. Your puffy cheeks and sleepy eyes made his heart soft and confused. To him, it was enchanting to see you so invested.
Kind of like right now.
As you look into the microscope, he can’t help but feel nervous. He wants to reach out and move your hair to the side. It’s bothering you and he can tell. He wants to do it, but he hesitates.
It would be too much, right? He would be crossing the line—especially since you’re the one that broke things off with him.
His thoughts pause as you pull away and blink at him.
“Oh, shit! I have an interview at a clinic nearby so I can’t stay to help clean up after this. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before we began—“
“___, it’s okay. Go do your thing. I hope you get it.”
Warmly, you smile at him.
“Thanks, baby—Nam Joon,” you correct yourself, throwing your head back and laughing nervously. In exchange, he stares at you blankly. You clear your throat, trying your best to move past this. “Sorry! For a second, I thought you were my boyfriend again.”
He brushes it off and tells you it’s okay. Again, you go back to looking into the microscope. Focusing on adjusting the lens and pulling away every so often to make notes.
“Me too,” he says softly.
Then, you feel it.
He tucks your hair behind your ears. You pretend like his touch didn’t send electric shocks throughout your body and ignore it. Your cheeks instantly flush a rosy pink and spill your secret.
Nam Joon chuckles, completely in awe of you.
You’re still so pretty to him.
You’re still his.
#bts fic#bts fic rec#bts one shot#nam joon x yn#bts rm#bts rm fic#nam joon x reader#nam joon x oc#bts x oc#nam joon med au#bts med au#nam joon fluff#nam joon imagine#nam joon scenario#namjoon e2l#bts e2l
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Hey y'all! It's weird question time again!
So that doctor I mentioned before that I wanted to make a dog plushie for because he has improved my quality of life so much* (and also inexplicably reminds me of like a greyhound or a borzoi) is my endocrinologist
And, as my endocrinologist, he recommended back in December that I go see a rheumatologist, because he thinks I might have rheumatoid arthritis**. The staff at his office have been trying to get a rheumatologist for four months now. I know that, because yesterday I got a call from the rheumatologist's office and the nurse I spoke to said "Your doctor's office has been very...persistent about getting you this appointment"
So now I kinda want to get something for the whole office? But idk what I could get them or make them. Like, in non-medical contexts I'd make cookies or brownies for a group, but I can't bring cookies to a doctor's office. I mean, I guess I could, but if I were them I would definitely not eat them, and I run the risk of allergy-ing a fellow patient. Is there like a gift basket or gift card or thank you card or something you can recommend?
*I mean he maybe should have found a diagnosis before offering me steroids about it but the low dose steroids have made such a HUGE difference in my quality of life I am thrilled with Tennessee's weird (to me, with my experience in California) medical practices
**I don't think I have enough joint pain for it to be rheumatoid arthritis, but he's like the fourth doctor to tell me it's weird that when I got hives they usually started on joints, so maybe I'm wrong? I have the weird version of enough medical things that at this point I would not be surprised if I had Weird Rheumatoid Arthritis.
#the person behind the yarn#I want to show my appreciation to these people!#but in a not-super-weird way#because they are my doctors and I want them to think I am a normal human who is rational#so they continue to treat me well. because I am a little paranoid about that with doctors#because of That One Guy at the local urgent care back in socal#who decided one day I had anxiety instead of. you know. allergies.#and he saw me before the allergies got super bad when it was just moderate hives and gave me anxiety meds about it#and then like a year later I was in the beginning stages of a severe allergic reaction#which I knew by then was going badly so I went to the urgent care (like my doctor told me to!) to get steroids for it#and the same guy gave me anxiety meds again and sent me home#I had to go back the next day to get steroids#and the second doc took one look at me and like left the room to go set up a steroid shot#I was COVERED in hives#anyway it both makes me appreciate good doctors#and makes me want to try very hard to make them think I am Not Anxious#something both normal to want and possible to achieve lol
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Ulcer - Jay Halstead
Your husband Jay Halstead has never been one to complain about anything. No matter how much pain he was in, you never heard him about it. The whole day Jay had been acting off, and you had a feeling that something was going on, but he was a grown man. If there was something wrong, he knew he could talk to you. You saw him sneaking off to the break room, while working on a case. You watched him as you saw him gripping his side. That’s it. You stood up from your desk and made your way over to Jay. You shut the door behind to you give you some sort of privacy. “Jay, what’s going on?”
He was leaning against the counter of the kitchen top. with on hand, his other hand still on the side of his stomach. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Look at me and say that again.”
Jay slowly turned around, he was still leaning against the counter. He looks you right in the eye and said, “Y/N, I am fine.”
But you could see he was lying. You could see the pain in his eyes. “You’re a stubborn idiot, you know that? You can’t to me, Halstead. I can see that you’re in pain. So you either say what is bothering you or-.”
Before you could finish your sentence Jay rushed over to the trash can and puked up blood.
“Jay, that’s blood. What the hell is going on?” You helped him to one of the chairs. He sat down with a load groan.
“I don’t know. My side has been killing me the entire day. I thought it was nothing.”
“Clearly it isn’t. Let’s go see your brother.”
Jay sighed, but he stood up. You quickly let Voight know what was going on before rushing to the hospital.
In the car you called Will.
“Will, I am coming to Med with Jay. He said his side has been bothering him all day and he just threw up blood.”
“Jezus. Okay, I will let Maggie know that you’re coming and get Crocket down here. Any other symptoms?”
You look at Jay.
“Nausea, a little light headed,” Jay groans.
“I also don’t think he ate anything today, Will.”
“Okay, we’ll wait for you at the parking lot. We’ll figure this out, Y/N.”
“Thanks Will. We’re pulling up in about two minutes.”
You hang up the phone. You quickly shoot a look at Jay. All the color has drained from his face now. God, you hate seeing him like this.
Arriving at the hospital, Will is already waiting for you with a wheelchair. For once, Jay didn’t protest.
Will hurried into the ED. “I’ll come find you when you can see him, okay? He’s in good hands,” Will said as he and a nurse helped Jay on a bed.
“I know. Thanks, Will.” You looked at Jay before you made your way to the living room. You sat down and sighed. It wasn’t your first time in this waiting room, while Jay was in the ED, but every time it sucked just as much. All you could do was wait and you hated it.
“Y/N?” you looked up and saw Matt Casey from Firehouse 51 standing in front of you.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” You stood up and hugged him.
“Gallo got injured and we came to check on him. What are you doing here?” Matt asked.
“Eh…” you let out a breath. You tried your best not to cry and be strong, like always, but seeing your friend here just made it a lot harder.
“Everything okay?” Matt asked worried.
You shook your head as you sat down. “It’s Jay… He threw up blood and has this pain in his side. He’ll probably be okay, but it just sucks you know? It’s not the first time im here, and probably not the last time, but I hate this. Waiting and doing nothing, not knowing how he’s doing.”
Matt sat down next to you. “He’s in good hands, Y/N.”
“I know… but still. It’s like he’s always the one getting hurt. Sometimes I just wish it was me, you know?”
“I can imagine, but then Jay would be thinking the exact same.”
“Probably. That man is just as stubborn has hell. Are all guys like that?”
Matt laughed. “Most of us are, yeah. We just don’t like to complain.”
“Idiots.”
Matt laughed again.
“Is Gallo okay?”
“Yeah, just a few scratches. Look, I’ve go to have the station, but I’m a call away, you know that.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
“Any time. Let me know how he is doing okay?”
“Will do.”
You and Matt say goodbye just as Will walks into the waiting room.
“How is he?” you ask standing up.
“He has an ulcer,” Will says and suggest to sit down again.
“An ulcer?”
“Yeah. Basically it’s a break on the skin, in the lining of an organ, or on the surface of a tissue.”
“Isn’t that caused by stress?”
“It could be. In Jay’s case I would probably say yes. He has to take some antibiotics for two weeks and take it easy. So no work for him for at least a week.”
“And then he’ll be fine? After those two weeks of antibiotics?”
“He has to come in again, but he’s likely going to be fine.”
“So we can go home?”
Will nods. “Yes, please. Take him home. He is being a pain in my ass.”
“Aren’t I always?”
You look up and see Jay looking at you with a smile.
“He is on some pain meds right now, hence the happy smile,” Will says.
“Thanks, Will.”
“No problem. Just keep him home this week, okay? Plenty of rest.”
“You’re no fun,” Jay sighs.
You chuckle as you stand up from the chair and wrap your arm around Jay. “I’m glad you’re doing okay.”
“I’m always going to be fine,” Jay says as he kisses the top of your head as you make it back to the car.
You roll your eyes. “Until you are not. Just please let’s stay out the ED this month. Just no more getting hurt or I will be getting an ulcer.” You get into the driver side of the car.
“At least you’re driving now.”
“As if that makes up for you getting hurt,” you snort.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No… maybe a little. It’s more frustrated. You keep getting hurt and I am so done with it.”
“I'v only been to the ED twice this month.”
“Three if you include today, and that’s the bigger stuff. You had four times when you ignore the advice of a trained medic and just went home instead of the hospital. Jay, you are going to end up dead one day and I…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You park the truck in the parking garage of your building and get out the car as fast as you can.
“I won’t. I’ve never been hurt that bad.” Jay steps out of the car.
You turned around. “Until you are!” You yell at him. “You don’t know how bad is going to be next time, and don’t say there won’t be, because I know you, Jay. There is going to be a next time. And one day, I am going to get a call that you didn’t make it. One day, you are going to get hurt so bad, that nobody can help you.”
“That’s not true, Y/N.”
“Oh, really? How do you know? You’re always the one getting hurt Jay. For the 10 years we have been on the job, I have seen Kevin in the hospital once, Adam I can’t even remember, Kim has been here once, I think I had to go to the hospital three times. How many times do you think you have been there?”
“What’s your point?”
“I think you have been there at least 5 times in a year. Whether it was a small cut or a freaking bullet hole. You have to stop getting hurt. Because what about me, huh? What about me when you leave? Have you ever thought how it makes me feel to be in that waiting room every time? What about me?” Tears roll down your face. “Have you ever thought what it is like for me? How it feels for me when you get wheeled into the ED, again and again? You’re not the only one getting hurt if you get shot again. I have to watch you in pain. I have to wait in that damn room, hoping that they will come out and say you made it and that you are going to be fine. But you don’t know how slowly the clock ticks when you’re waiting for those words. You don’t know how much it hurts sitting there, knowing that the love of your life might not come back.” A loud sob leaves your mouth. You step away from Jay and turn around.
“Y/N…”
You hold up your hand. Hopefully Jay gets the hint to leave you alone for a few seconds. One day this fight, or discussion or whatever you want to call it was coming, you both probably knew it. You just didn’t expect so many emotions to come out. You take a deep breath before you turn back around. Jay is watching you with tears in his eyes well.
“I love you, Jay. I love you so much, but you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep getting hurt.”
“I love you, and I’m sorry, for all the pain that I have caused you. But all I am trying to do is protect you, make sure that you walk away without a scratch. Because I can’t loose you.”
“I can’t lose you. Just promise me one thing, because I want to go to bed right now and watch a movie.”
“Whatever it is, I promise you.”
“Just be more careful. I know this wasn’t the last time, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s part of the job, I know and I understand, but you don’t always have to be the hero, okay? At the end of the day, we both need to go home without a pitstop at the hospital.”
Jay slightly chuckles. “I promise I will be more careful.”
“Good. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jay says before he kisses you.
#jay halstead one shot#jay halstead story#jay halstead imagine#jayhalstead#jay halstead#Chicago PD#chicago med#Chicago Fire#chicago pd imagine#One Chicago#Jesse Lee Soffer#jesse lee soffer imagine#jesse lee soffer one shot
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to conceive an heir
warning(s): cursing, dirty language, degradation, oral (f/m receiving), breeding, creampie, choking, teasing, semi-public sex/voyeurism, unprotected sex (always have protection plz) , kind of toxic relationship, power dynamics (Dom/sub, emperor/empress)
summary: paul atreides seems to control every aspect of the empire except his distant empress. having yet failed to conceive an heir, you take things into your own hands. basically a self indulgent throne sex/breeding kink fic/blurb. no beta we d!e like men
word count: 2.7k words
"Where the fuck is my wife!?"
Paul's commanding voice echoes through the high ceiling throne room, gripping tightly on the armrests of his throne as he fumes in anger.
All of his advisors and council members looked around anxiously, staring at each other in fear as they knew nothing would get him more riled up then anything that concerned you.
Ever since you had consummated your marriage on your wedding night and crowned as Emperor and Empress the following morning, you have seen nothing of your husband.
You had grown up side by side under the same tutors, as your father was a Duke from a nearby kingdom of similar lineage and prestige. From wearing matching bibs when you ate messily at the table as toddlers, rolling down the temperate grassy hills of Caladan and sneaking out from humdrum tutors, the ring on your finger and your names bonded by law have set you two apart further rather than bring you together as intended.
Nothing would have prepared you for the turn of events that resulted in you becoming Empress of the entire Galactic Empire, nor with Paul by your side as the Supreme Emperor of all of society.
Nonetheless, you did your duty. Even so, you enjoyed escaping the hollow, ceremonial trappings of the royal court and doing your charity and social events outside the city.
You had spent the past morning visiting a local orphanage and the school conjunct to it, as schoolchildren of the common folk adored you and threw petals at your feet as you walked by. If Paul was to neglect his responsibility to you as a husband preoccupied with the obligations of an Emperor, you will not fail to attend to your role as Empress.
Feeding the children pouring soup into disposable bowls with your handmaidens was sharply interrupted when one of his men, Duncan, whispered in your ear that your husband the Emperor demanded your return back to the palace. It was an order, not a request.
Begrudgingly escorted back to the throne room, you drag your feet through the hollow halls, pacing impatiently as your handmaidens and your bodyguards struggle to meet your agile pace.
The moment Paul feels your presence even while looking away, he narrows his eyes at you suspiciously as you approach him meekly, avoiding his darkened eyes shooting daggers at you almost literally.
“Where have you been, Empress?!” He slouches on his throne, venom laced in his voice, and you resist the temptation to roll your eyes at him. Referring to you by his title, alone? Seriously?
“I was fulfilling my role as Empress by visiting the orphanage-”
“And you did not even have the courage to let me know before you left?”
You pause.
“I left a note on your bedside, Your Imperial Majesty.” You explained offhandedly, praying your long obsidian sleeves can hide your fiddling fingers.
Paul scoffs at you, his curls disheveled on his face and hiding his eyes. A bubbling disdain and enmity for his childish, unreasonable behaviour towards you, not only did he avoid you on every turn, but expected you to be at his beck and call.
Seeing red as you stand alone in the spacious throne room, bare, cold stone with minimal windows as you shrunk in the magnanimous size of the room.
As Paul looked down at you from his stainless steel engraved throne on plain concrete from the hills of Arrakis, the distance between you two are even greater and a reminder how you are always subservient to him.
"Is it a crime for me to know where my legally wedded wife is? I don't even know where my woman is, how can I rule a damn kingdom."
"I'm not just your woman. I am my own person." You bite back maliciously, voice laced with venom.
"You have failed as an empress. You have failed our kingdom. You put the entire Galactic Empire at risk for your negligence, for your refusal to provide an heir. You make our entire future futile."
As a wave of shame overcomes you as your face warms in embarrassment yet the cool of the darkness of the throne room creates goosebumps on your back.
Fumbling with the golden necklace on your collar, carelessly pulling on the rare gemstones that lock the elaborate setting of your cream white straight silhouetted dress.
His eyes widen in panic, yet a flash of lust and arousal appears on his usually, well rehearsed stoic expression as layer by layer falls to the ground with a loud thud.
" What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" He nearly stands up from shock against his throne, yet restrains himself and tightens his grip on the arm rests of his throne.
As the top sheer layer of the pleated white dress, your slim tie knot ribbon chemise dress is yanked off your shoulder as you step over the pile of your garment and you stand in front of him bare.
Step by step with sequenced footsteps, you raise your head proudly as you walk up the staircase towards him.
"Then take me."
"What!?" Paul nearly screams at you in ridicule of your plans, yet his want, his desire for you overtakes him as you see a glimpse of his arousal between his legs.
"Right here. I want you to fuck me right on your throne."
"You are a queen, an empress yet you want to be fucked senselessly like a common whore, like a rabid dog." He snickers mockingly, firmly gripping your bare hips against his rough fingers with a piercing grip you're sure will leave bruises for days.
Just as you lean in to sit on his lap, he suddenly jumps up, towering over you with his dark curls and piercing hazel eyes of swirls of green and gold. Paul harshly smacks his lips against yours, tongue swirling in your warm cavern, dominating over yours.
Your eyes shut in pleasure and pain as you lose yourself in the feeling, moaning as your lips mold into his.
Feeling dribbles of wetness between your thighs as you bare skin contrasts his military uniform that covers his entire body. Your fingers brush against his shoulder blades as you circle your arms on either side of his head, tilting your head to follow his ministrations and gain steady footing as he forcefully contorts and melds into you as if you could bleed into one flesh.
Sliding down from your waist down to your butt, pinching and squeezing before he rociforeously slaps against your skin, gaining a high pitched shriek from you.
Paul brushes lightly against your clit before squeezing in a couple of fingers into your clenched folds.
"You're so fucking wet already. Do you like being fucked like the whore you are!?" He antagonizingly teases you with a mischievous grin, clearly satisfied with seeing you cower over him like putty in his hands.
Resting your forehead against his medalled shoulders, sweat forming on your brow as you attempt to muffle your pleasured cries, increasingly leaning towards him with buckled knees and wobbly joints.
"I can't hear you. What did you say?!"
"I want you to fuck me like a whore, like your whore."
Fondling your nipples and massaging your chest as he tentatively ponders over his next move, waiting for your areolas to harden before his mouth sucks eagerly on your breasts before doing the same on the other and switching places.
As his hands wander around your body, feeling every inch of his skin from his fingertips to leaving crescents from his blunt nails, he gradually makes his way down to his knees in front of you.
"What are you doing?" You bewilderly ask, whining in complaint at the loss of his fingers from your area of pleasure.
Parting your lower lips with his fingers before dipping in and out against your walls, he presses the flat of his tongue before he dives into you like a starved man, squelching, slurping, wildly drinking from you and pleasuring you until you'd see white.
Oh, what a sight. Imagine if any bystander would see their emperor, fully clothed and on his knees in front of his naked empress, his wife, writhing and pulsing with teary eyes and a gaping mouth crying and begging for more.
"More, more-"
"More what?!" He mockingly teases you, his voice reverberating against your warmth.
"I want your tongue on me. I want you to mouth fuck me."
Playing and pulling your clit as his mouth consumes you wholly, your essence dripping down his chin and spilling out his mouth, his pleasured groans and grunts vibrating against your cavern until he hits the very spot you've never discovered, unleashing an unabridged, unrestrained pleasure like you've never seen before.
Screaming, weeping, screeching, moaning so loudly, harshly until your throat went hoarse and you feel a stinging pain around your neck, seeing white like a string unleashed, pulled apart so far apart like galaxies scattered across the sky.
Crying his name over and over again like a prayer on your altar, blessing him with your holy water, your blessed essence, your sacred liquid, reaching your pleasure and losing consciousness until you regain your awareness on shaky knees and exhausted limbs, resting your head against his chest as he stands beside you with arms around your waist.
Taking slow, careful breaths before you push him down to his seat, ignoring the stinging sensation of your bare knees against the hard marble floor.
"You have to let me return the favour, Your Majesty." Your low, hoarse voice sounds sultry and seductive, even as your lightheadedness makes you flighty and clumsy.
Groaning in overwhelming lust, rolling his eyes back in pleasure as you tug off his buckles from his grey tailored pants with shaky fingers.
As the heavy, weighted cloth hits the ground, you lean forward eagerly with a wide mouth as your tongue swirls around the bottom of his pink, throbbing cock.
He groans with tight shut eyes as he reaches forward to pull on your hair forcefully, firmly tugging and scratching against the base of your scalp as you take him in fully into your mouth, moaning deliriously as his cock hits the back of your throat.
Circling and massaging both your hands against the base of his lengthy, girthy cock, twisting, pulling and circling to the sound of his pleasured cries and squeaks.
"Ah, fuck, how is your mouth so good? How the fuck did you do that!?"
As your nose hits his pelvic bone as you reach deeper and deeper, mentally noting to yourself in surprise at your unusual lack of gag reflex. Feeling your own pleasure pooling between your legs, you gobble, throb back and forth against his length until he comes explosively, generously filling your warm mouth with loads and loads of his thick, white essence.
As you reach the end of your gobbling and swallowing, you pull back and open your mouth as you rest your tongue against the bottom of his cock, relishing in his release before you eagerly drink up every drop.
His curls messily sticking to his forehead drenched in sweat as he rests an arm over his eyes as he recovers from his pleasure, he opens his eyes and meets you with a menacing, forceful look as he leans over to pull you over his lap.
Twirling your around to have your back facing against him, he pulls you down by your hips to sit on his thighs , next to his already hardening length.
"Since you want to be such a fucking tease, we'll do it this way."
You never want to admit how much you wanted this and you never knew. You never knew how much you wanted to be humiliated, insulted, treated so carelessly, so harshly unlike the glass figurine you were in a gilded cage in your ivory tower.
"Fuck me like this, you do the damn work. Face forward on this throne for everyone to see. Look at their empress, jolting, splintering, piercing herself in half on her Emperors cock."
Lowering yourself inch by inch on his length as either of your knee caps rest over his legs, you wince in slight pain before a wave of overwhelming passion and pleasure overcomes you.
"What are you waiting for, slut?!" He spits darkly at you, impatient with frantic, bouncing knees as you whips your thighs in punishment for leaving him wanting for so long.
You cry and babble as you grasp his forearms for support as you weakly try to find you footing. His fingers snake around your neck tightly, under your jaw and around your throat as your breath hitches and your arousal continues to grow.
The loss of air circulation no longer fills you with panic or fear, but excites you with a foreign glee you never knew you could even feel.
"Look at how desperate you are for my cock, how it's the only thing you think of, you live for. How it's the only thing keeping you alive. Like you were made for my cock, for my pleasure."
Raising up your knees and standing up slightly to position yourself over his standing cock, you slowly but surely adjust to his length before starting a constant rhythm riding his length.
You speed up as the symphonies of your moans and groans blur into one incomprehensible sound.
"Look at me. Then look there. Let them see their empress at work. Their empress creating the future, creating the future of the kingdom."
"The galaxy will be secure when you give me so many fucking heirs we'd fill every damn room in this gigantic palace. Beg for every single drop of my cunt, slut."
"I want you walking around butt naked, heavily pregnant and swollen, round with my child every waking second. You're either pregnant or I'm getting you pregnant when you're not."
You cried out loud in wanton list at the prospect, at the possibility of conceiving a child on this very throne. The future of the empire created for perhaps no one or everyone to see if they happened to pass by the empty throne room.
"Please, please- more."
"Beg." Always firmly, he commands as he impatiently begins thrusting upwards to meet your wavering hilts, as you increasingly slouch towards him as you begin to reach your second peak.
His fingers brush forward to your clit once more, ignoring your desperate pleas at how sensitive and rare your pussy felt after agonizing hours of brutal assault but he kept going, kept plummelint, kept fingering you until you would go numb.
"I want your baby. I want a fucking future emperor or empress right now, in my womb!" Raw and hoarse your voice went as you slammed down his dick until you could feel his tip brush against your cervix and you saw white just as he released into you.
You both relaxed and collapsed, defeated yet satisfied in your pleasures and fulfilled lists and desires. His chin rests on your shoulder, slightly ticklish with the faint feeling of growing facial hair underneath.
"I'm sorry. I should be treating you better- I should have never been so controlling-" Paul breaks the silence, recovering from his highs in horrified discovery at how brutally he treated you when he was consumed by his anger and lust.
You pull up weakly with your arms on his shoulders to get off his dick, whining at the loss of the physical bulge that he would brush over possessively as he spliced you open on his throne, with the teasing possibility for everyone and anyone to see with no restraint.
"Sh.. don't be sorry. You are right. I have failed to do my duty, and I really just want to spend more time with you. we definitely should seriously try for kids, not just because of the empire, but I want to talk about that with you. Besides, it was really hot." You shush him with a finger on his mouth, looking down shamelessly as you cover your body with your arms in the sudden realization at how clothless you were, yet your cheeks redden at your admission of something you had never said out loud, yet his smug smirk assures you otherwise.
"Oh yeah, you like that? I'll fuck you senselessly and for hours, days even months or years on end till I get you so pregnant, swollen with my child and bursting with milk. Get ready for that."
#timothee chalamet imagines#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee chalamet scenarios#timothee chalamet#timothee x reader#timothee chalamet x you#timothee chalamet social media aus#timothee chalamet soc med aus#timothee smut#dune#paul atreides#paul atreides imagines#timothee chalamet one shot#timothee chalamet smut#celebrity smut#fanfic smut#celebrity fanfic#celebrity imagines#fypシ#fanfics#fanfiction#dune imagines#paul#atreides#dune 2021
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Cha Junhwan (KOR): Masquerade Waltz | Skate Canada 2023
hope the ksu lets him rest. (I mean, surely your seven-time consecutive national champion and reigning world silver medalist doesn't need to compete at a domestic ranking competition to get a spot on the national team. come on.)
#figure skating#cha junhwan#junhwan cha#skate canada 2023#fskateedit#i wish they zoomed in more for that closing shot#my gifs#editing while squinting without glasses and under pain meds for a wisdom tooth extraction i am miserable#also can these skaters wear smth other than black#i was so tired i didnt notice i used the wrong canvas size ahhhh
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I think Roman is taking anti-anxiety meds. He is fidgety and low energy, and in the car he complained that the seatbelt was choking him. A side effect of anti-anxiety meds is a sense of emotional blunting, a psychic flatness that limits emotional range. With how monotone he's talking, how he has a lack of reaction to anything, and barely makes any of his usual jokes I think this adds up.
#and when he runs out of meds#he'll finally feel all the emotions he's been ignoring#resulting in a breakdown#kendall might be forcing him to spit out a pill in that one shot#succession#roman roy#kendall roy#meta#analysis#theory#succession spoilers#succession speculation
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𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Will Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: yes by anon.
• Summary: danger is always behind the corner and you learn to never let your guard down when you find yourself in a situation between life and death. Will your husband be able to save you? Will he find you in time?
• Warnings: mention of domestic violence, stab wound, blood, cursing, Will is kind of a dumbass at the beginning (what can we say? Men…)
• Word count: 5642.
• A/N: I fucking hate how this turned out bye. I’m sorry for any mistake or grammar error.
That morning everything seemed normal.
You treated patients, cured some, discharged others and between one break and another you wasted no time going to your husband to give him a little kiss.
“What do you want eat tonight baby?” he asked. You and Will were in the doctors' break room during one of the aforementioned breaks, only the two of you in there. You were sitting on the small couch next to each other, his arm around your shoulders while you ate a bag of chips.
“Do you want to cook?”.
He looked at you for a moment and you chuckled at his expression. You both had to do a double shift that day so you knew neither of you would even want to go near the kitchen once you got back home.
“I’d like Mexican, what you think?”.
“Hell yeah! You know I never say no to Mexican food.”
He laughed at the enthusiasm you showed, meanwhile playing with strands of your hair. “Mexican it is then.”
You continued to devour the chips under your husband’s gaze who looked at you as if he had seen a mystical creature for the first time. “What? I’m hungry.” You babbled with your mouth half full.
“You don't even share with your beloved husband? So greedy.”
You glared at him before taking the last chip left in the bag and shoving it into your mouth, moaning heartily in his face. “No matter how much I love you, you know very well I don't share my food with anyone.”
He rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Wipe your mouth you pretty little bitch.”
But before you could reach for a tissue he came closer to you and licked the corner of your mouth, bursting out laughing when you pushed him away, wiping yourself with a tissue from the coffee table in front of you. “Ew Will you're disgusting!”
“Disgusting? You don't seem to complain when you take my dick in...-”
You covered his mouth with your hand before he could finish his sentence and let someone hear, feeling him smile as his eyes glistened at you. You should’ve predicted though that in true child style, he’d lick the palm of your hand.
“Will for fuck’s sake! Stop it!”.
“I can’t! God baby you're so easy to piss of,” he continued laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. You looked at him sideways before wiping your hand on his white coat. “C’mon give me a kiss now, come on.”
He wrapped his arms around your hips, trying to pull you towards him to kiss you while you tried to push him away by pressing your hands on his chest.
“No! Go away!”.
You continued to fight like children until, however, that playful atmosphere was interrupted when the door opened and Maggie entered.
“Here you are! Stop acting like lovebirds and go back to work. We have two new patients, victims of a car crash.”
After quickly washing your hands you left the break room, following Will and Maggie. You and Will exchanged a look before splitting up to go to the two patients.
The patient you took into your care – whose name you found out was Amanda – was in a critical condition: fractures of the femur and humerus not to mention the small fractures in almost her entire body, a sprained arm that would’ve required a cast, an internal hemorrhage due to the rupture of the spleen.
As you and the nurses worked to stabilize Amanda as quickly as possible, you couldn't help but notice something that bothered you quite a bit.
On her lower back, around her arms, on her thighs there were bruises that were not compatible with the dynamics of the car crash and which based on their almost faded color seemed to date back to some time ago.
“Amanda, did you have another accident a few days ago?” You asked her, your voice low so the rest of the team wouldn't hear you. She looked at you with a heartbroken expression and her eyes filled with tears before shaking her head.
“I'm just very clumsy and distracted, I often fall or bump into furniture and doors.”
Her voice was shaking and your heart tightened, knowing it was a complete lie.
“Amanda… You're safe here okay? Say one word, anything and whoever did this won't hurt you again...”
“No, no, no, no,” she became agitated and her heart monitor began to beep from her rapid heartbeat. “Please don't say anything doctor… He… Please. He's a good husband, he's just a little tired and stressed lately.”
“Hey, hey, it's okay Amanda, it's okay. I'm just here to help you.” You shook her hand and she nodded weakly. “But whatever he told you, it isn’t…-”
“It’s fine just… Just cure me.” She tore her eyes away from yours, bringing them to the ceiling even if more tears continued to fall.
It was clear that Amanda was a victim of domestic violence, she was literally terrified of her husband. You felt helpless, your heart broke for her even if you couldn’t even imagine what she was going through.
You were treating that woman knowing she’d go home and her husband would start beating her again. What kind of doctor were you if you hadn't helped her?
But how could you help someone who didn't want to be helped?
You should’ve called the police, but what would you have said to them? It was your assumption even if all the bruises and healed bone fractures were evidence of physical abuse, but you knew how the police worked, they couldn't do anything if there was no complaint from the victim. And you knew if you called them, Amanda would deny everything and it’d affect her worse than it already did.
You sent Amanda to run some tests and left her room after throwing away your gloves and washing your hands. Your mind was only focused on her as you filled out her medical records so much you didn't even hear Will come closer to you until he put his hand around her waist to great you, leaving a kiss on you temple.
“Baby you okay? How is the wife?” He asked as he picked up her bastard husband's newly created medical record.
“She was in critical condition but I believe she’ll make full recovery. The husband?”.
“He was luckier, he only suffered a few bruises and small fractures. The guy must be madly in love with his wife, all he did was ask about her and say he wanted to see her.”
“I think Amanda is a victim of domestic violence, your guy isn't in love at all,” you voiced your concerns before placing your pen on the papers and looking at Will.
“You sure?”.
“She has bruises all over her body clearly from days ago and her X-Rays show old healed fractures. Not mentioning how she’s terrified of him.”
“Wow…” Will breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “There must be an explanation…”
“Babe did you hear a word I just said? We have to help that woman. He’ll kill sooner or later.”
“Don't you think you're a little bit exaggerating a little love?” Will put his hands on your shoulders “If she doesn't tell you anything there's nothing we can do…”
“Will, he beats the shit out of her and God knows what else does to her!” You whispered/shouted with frustration. “She doesn't say anything so we let that bastard beat her?”.
“I didn’t mean that! What I was trying to say is just… Don't jump to conclusions, there must be other reasons why she must’ve gotten those bruises…”
“Oh yeah of course. She must hit herself on the side so hard she left a shoe imprint on her skin for fun. This really makes sense.” You snapped the folder close and walked away, ignoring Will who tried to call you out.
You were pissed off.
It was always the same exact story, over and over again.
How the fuck were women supposed to trust the system and report abuses when those who were part of this system didn't even believe them?
You talked to Amanda, stood by her side during her MRI and the other tests, keeping her away from her husband as much as possible.
You didn't force her to say anything, you didn't insist to let her talk about what was happening in her household. It wouldn't do her any good, you wanted her to know she had a choice, you wanted to give her as much time as possible to think about what to do.
“Whatever happened I believe you Amanda, okay? You don't have to be afraid and I'll be here to help you if you want.”
That was all you said to her about the topic and she nodded slightly before bursting into a liberating and heartbreaking cry. You stayed with her the whole time, hugging her and reassuring her that everything would be okay, that she wasn’t alone.
Yet she said nothing to you, nothing about her husband, deeply terrified of the consequences there might be.
She eventually fell asleep and you let her rest, telling the nurses to always keep an eye on her and to let you know immediately if anything happened.
“Dr. Y/Ln, Mr. Connell's X-Rays just arrived, Dr. Halstead left for another patient.” A nurse had told you as soon as you passed by their station. Your heart skipped a beat, realizing you didn’t meet Amanda’s husband yet.
You wanted so much to let him rot in hell but you couldn't, you had duties to fulfill as a doctor even if he was the most disgusting piece of shit on earth.
You took the envelope with the X-Rays and thanked the nurse before she went back helping other patients. You went to the bastard's room, taking a deep breath before entering.
You tried to hide your indignation as soon as you saw him lying on the bed, maintaining a professional and impassive expression.
“Who are you? Where is Dr. Halstead?” He asked as soon as you entered his room.
“I'm Dr. Y/Ln, he's busy at the moment.”
“My wife… Do you know where she is? How is she?”. If you hadn't seen the condition of Amanda's body you would’ve even thought he was really worried.
Son of a bitch.
You swallowed the anger that threatened to release words you’d regret and that you knew Amanda would pay the price for. “She's fine. She’s doing some tests,” you deadpanned before taking the X-Ray out of the folder. “There are no serious fractures, just a small one here on the collarbone…”
“I want to know where my wife is. Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?” He blurted out, not even letting you finish your sentence.
“Sir, as I said, she’s doing some tests. She was in quite critical condition and we’re doing our best to treat her,” you replied in a flat tone although your heart was pounding. The way he was looking at you made your skin crawl and your heart ached for Amanda and the fact she had to live with this piece of shit every single day.
“What tests is she doing?”.
“I’m sorry but I cannot discuss clinical details of other patients with other people.”
He looked at you angrily. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m her husband! I have the right to know how my wife is doing!”.
“Mr Connell I’m just trying to do my job. I just came here to show you your X-Rays, like…” You continued talking, holding up them again to show them to him but cut yourself off when he pulled the covers away from his body and stood up abruptly, making you take a step back in fear.
“What’s going on doctor? Why don't you want to update me on my wife's health status?” He stated through gritted teeth, taking steps towards you and looking at you menacingly. You slowly took as many steps back, your breathing quickening as fear took over you.
“Mr Connell, just go back to bed…”
“What did that filthy whore say to you?” He spat and you were about to rush to the door and run away when he violently pushed you against it, making you fall to the ground.
“What. Did. She. Say.” He grabbed your hair in a fist and pulling you back to your feet.
You squirmed to try to escape his grasp, digging your nails into his skin. “She didn't tell me anything… I don't know what you're talking about…”
He punched you in the face in response, causing you to let out a loud cry of pain as you fell to the ground again.
“Fuck,” you muttered, holding a hand to your nose and realizing you were bleeding.
In that moment you had a glimpses of what Amanda had to go through every single day of her life and you could really understand why she was so terrified of that man.
“Oh you know exactly what I'm talking about you bitch.”
You tried to get up but he grabbed your hair in a fist again and pushed you with force towards the emergency cart in the room, so violently some objects fell from it and some drawers opened.
“You piece of shit…” you spat as you tried to get up but he walked over to you and kicked you back to the ground.
It all happened quickly.
So quickly that between his attacks you didn't even have time to process what was happening. He was overpowering you and every time you tried to hit him so you could escape, he hit you back.
He pushed you on the floor, picked you up and tossed you around the room as if you were a garbage bag.
You were lying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position as you held your stomach after a painful kick to the stomach.
Your mind went to Will, wanting nothing more than your husband in that moment.
Baby please help me.
You lay down on your back in an attempt to catch some breath but a scream echoed through the room.
Your whole body froze and in an instant everything around you stopped.
What happened?
Was that scream yours?
A searing pain went through your abdomen and a warm sensation enveloped your body.
You lifted your head slightly only to realize in horror you had a pair of scissors impaled in your abdomen.
He fucking stabbed me.
You had treated hundreds of thousands of patients with stab wounds, you had always tried to reassure them, telling them you knew it hurt but everything would be fine.
But the truth was that you had no idea what your patients were feeling, the paralyzing fear, the excruciating pain, the terror of not surviving.
You don't fully know things until you go through them and in that moment, as the blood poured out of your stomach and smeared your red uniform, making it two shades darker, your body paralyzed by shock, you really understood how it felt.
Your chest rose and fell quickly as you struggled to breathe properly. Tears began to fell from your eyes when you saw the man bending over you and at that precise moment you feared your time had come.
You feared you’d never see Will again, that he wouldn’t find out until you were dead.
You needed him, you wanted your husband.
Please Will I need you.
The man pulled the scissors out of your wound which started to bleed a lot more, staining the floor red.
He looked into your eyes and the coldness he showed almost shocked you. They were glassy, empty, devoid of emotions and any trace of remorse.
“When you see my beloved wife, tell her to start planning her funeral.”
Without looking back, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving you dying and immersed in a pool of your own blood.
The wound burned stingingly as you brought your trembling hands to it to try to make pressure, but in vain.
How could so much blood come out of a not so big wound?
Sounds of throbbing pain continued to escape your lips, your breathing heavy, your heart beating wildly.
You tried to move and lift yourself up but every time you ended up lying back on the ground.
You were too weak.
What you managed to do was crawl on your elbows, leaving a trail of blood on the floor with every step you made.
You raised an arm to try to open the door. Your trembling fingers even managed to wrap around the handle but the blood on them made you slip and fall to the floor again.
Your breathing was starting to slow down, as was your heartbeat. That feeling of heat that invaded your body turned into cold, forming goosebumps all over your skin.
You were tired. So incredibly tired.
You just wanted to get some sleep and rest a bit.
So you closed your eyes, not knowing if you’d open them again.
Will looked everywhere for you but couldn't find you. He even looked for you in Amanda's room who, however, had told him she hadn't seen you for some time. He thought you were avoiding him but he couldn't think you had abandoned your patients just to avoid talking to him.
“Have you seen Y/n?” He had asked Maggie as soon as he saw her walk by.
“No, but I’ll tell her to look for you as soon as I see her.”
It felt like you had disappeared off the face of the earth, he knew you’d never have left without warning unless it was an emergency.
He tried to page you so many times, to call you on your cell phone but nothing, he received no answer. His mind tried not to immediately think something bad had happened, he couldn't even imagine it, but it was all he could think about at that moment since no one seemed to have seen you for a while.
He thought you might’ve gone to talk to Amanda's husband, knowing you would’ve tried to confront him. So he went towards Jack’s room but he stopped in his tracks before opening the door when his feet stepped on something wet.
He lowered his gaze and looking down he soon realized with horror it was blood.
He tried to open the door carefully, his heart beating wildly as he imagined all sorts of scenarios in front of him.
The door didn't open completely, as if there was some sort of resistance on the other side, so Will tried to squeeze through the small space.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for what his eyes saw, for what he never wanted to see.
His heart stopped beating for a few seconds when his eyes fell on the unconscious figure lying on the floor and immersed in a pool of her own blood. That figure he’d never, ever wanted to see in that condition, not even in his worst nightmares. YOU.
“Oh my god Y/n!” He loudly exclaimed, immediately kneeling next to you and pressing his hands on your wound from which blood was still flowing. You didn't react, your eyes were closed, your heartbeat slow.
“Baby, wake up… Please, please, please, open your eyes.”
How long were you there? Why hadn't anyone notice this?
“Somebody help me! Hurry up!”.
“Oh shit!” The nurse who rushed there screamed, putting her hands over her mouth as soon as she saw Will kneeling down, covered in your own blood.
“Where the fuck were you?!” Will exclaimed angrily, his mind completely clouded from the anger, the confusion, from the fear of coming too late.
“Oh God… I… I gave her the patient's X-Rays… There was an emergency and… And… I-I had to leave…” she stammered, shocked.
Will gave her a murderous look that would’ve killed her on the spot if he could. He knew it wasn't her fault, just the bastard who did this to you, but he couldn't help but blame someone in that moment.
He brought his eyes back to you, only then noticing the scratches and bruises that surrounded your face.
Oh baby what did they do to you?
“I'm here love, I'm here… It's okay. You’ll be fine. Just hang on for a bit.”
One of his hands let go of your wound to check your pulse, realizing it was barely noticeable. His heart tightened in a vice as he caressed her face, staining it with your own blood.
“Please wake up, please… Don't do this to me baby, you can't… You can't… I need you…” He kept repeating, his eyes starting to glaze over with tears after yelling for help again. Dr. Crockett, who was passing by at the time, intervened immediately as soon as he realized what was happening.
“What the hell happened?!” He asked urgently as he watched the horrific scene that seemed to come out from a horror movie. “We need to take her to the OR immediately, prepare four bags of 0 neg, she's lost too much blood!”
But Will didn't let you go, he continued to stay there putting pressure on your wound and keeping his gaze fixed on you.
“Will…” Crockett murmured placing a hand on his shoulder “She'll be make it okay? She’s in good hands but you have to let me do my job, you can’t be here.”
“Will!”.
Only then he seemed to realize Crockett was actually talking to him. He slightly nodded, reluctantly letting you go and watching as they carried you away.
He was in shock, struggling to believe what was happening was reality and not just a fucking nightmare.
He raised his now red and trembling hands and his eyes looked at them for a few moments, analyzing and carefully observing the blood he hardly struggled to believe was yours.
What the hell happened?
There was no doubt it was that bastard Jack Connell who did this to you and an anger he had never felt before ran through him.
He was furious.
Furious because he had allowed someone to hurt you, because he had failed to protect you, furious with himself because he didn’t believed you when you expressed your concern.
He was devastated.
Desperate.
It was all his fault.
He stayed there for he didn't know how long, looking at those hands that until recently were pressing on your wound, the same hands that until a few hours before were holding you and hugging you.
When he finally looked up around the room, he noticed what a dire, chaotic mess there was and it was clear there had been a fight before.
Only then he realized there was no trace of that bastard, that he had probably already escaped from the hospital and with the tumultuous coming and going of patients, nurses and doctors no one had even noticed him.
He took his cell phone out of his pocket, not caring he was getting blood on it, and with trembling fingers dialed Jay's number.
Jay almost had a heart attack when he heard about what happened and seeing his brother covered in blood was awful even if he knew it wasn't his. He was worried for you while trying to calm Will down. But he was still in a catalytic state so Jay stayed with him, helping him clean himself up.
Will explained to his brother it was probably Jack Connell who did it, he told him your concerns about him mentally and physically abusing his wife but that he didn't believe you.
“It's not your fault okay? I want you to understand this. It was his fault, it’s him who did this to her and I promise we’ll get him and make him pay for what he did to her, he’ll rot in prison. An attack on Y/n is an attack on all of us.” He tried to reassure Will. “She'll make it, she’s strong but she needs you now, she needs you to be by her side, I know you're scared now but you have to be strong for her, brother.”
Will was completely losing his mind while waiting for your surgery to be over, not sitting for even a minute as he paced back and forth in the waiting room, waiting at the same time some news from Jay.
When Crockett finally came out of the OR and announced the surgery had gone well and that he had managed to sew up the wound, Will couldn't help but hug him in the throes of joy and happiness.
As he walked to the ICU, he felt a weight pressing down on his shoulders, anxiety gnawing at his stomach to the point it made him feel nauseous.
His legs trembled as he approached your bed, his palms sweated, his eyes watered as he looked at you lying on that bed, unconscious.
He sat down on a chair next to you, taking one of your hands as his thumb caressed your skin. He pressed his lips on your knuckles, leaving a chaste and small kiss so light as if he was afraid of hurting you.
He sniffed when he realized a few tears had escaped his eyes, quickly wiping them away with his fingers. “I'm so sorry baby, this wasn't supposed to happen to you,” He whispered, looking at you while struggling to keep his emotions inside.
He felt terribly guilty.
It was his fault you were on that bed.
It was his fault you had to suffer.
His heart tightened as he thought about what you had to go through and he hated himself for not being able to prevent it, for not believing you.
He didn't want to think about how scared you had been, how terrified you were of dying, how many you had called for him but he didn’t come.
“I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, I'll never forgive myself,” he kept talking to you. “How can you be so beautiful even on a hospital bed? I really am a lucky bastard.”
He smiled faintly as he looked at you. “Please wake up baby, show me those beautiful eyes I fell so madly in love with… I’m begging you…”
He stood up and left a kiss on your forehead while stroking your hair at the same time before sitting back on the chair.
“I already miss you so much you know that? I'm sorry I don't tell you often how much I love you, I'm sorry I only realized now that I risked losing you how much you mean to me. Don't get me wrong I already know this, you’re one of the most important person in my life, God only knows I can't live without you... But I didn't realize how intensely and deeply you affect my life Y/n. You… Damn it…” He finished the sentence with a sigh as he tried to find the right words.
“I can't exist without you, I can't think properly, I can’t breathe, I... I’m nothing. You completed me, you always managed to fill the void I’ve always felt inside, you’ve always been that fundamental piece to complete the puzzle. Just… Please… Please don't leave me.”
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the beeps of the monitor connected to your heart. He left another kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face.
“I love you so much Y/n Halstead, you have no idea how much. I stop to think about our wedding day every now and then and you don't know how much money I’d pay to go back to that day and see you again in that beautiful white dress... God I would say yes to you a million more times and if we lived other lives I would say yes to you in those too because meeting you and marrying you was the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.”
“I'm so sorry…” He whispered, the words dying in his throat before he let out a silent cry, his forehead resting on the bed as he continued to silently pray.
“I heard you the first thousand times Dr Halstead…”
Will snapped his head to you, his eyes widening and almost having a heart attack when he saw you were finally awake and looking at him.
You had a small smile on your lips, trying not to chuckle as you looked at the shocked look on his face.
“Baby oh my fucking god!” He almost screamed before leaning over you and hugging you in the rush of joy and happiness. He held you tightly for an indefinite time, fearing for a moment it was a hallucination.
He let you go though when you let out a painful sigh. “Shit I'm sorry love.” He sat down again. “How are you? How are you feeling? You need something? Are you hurting? God I missed you so much.”
“The wound hurts a little but overall I'm fine...” You replied, your voice thick and hoarse. “What happened? Where is that son of a bitch? Is Amanda okay?”.
“He ran away after what… What he did to you and I called Jay, they'll catch him I promise. Amanda is okay, Jay questioned her and she told him everything, you were right about the abuse… I’m so sorry for not believing you.”
You nodded feebly, momentarily looking away from Will who kept his eyes on you with a broken look on his face, and you took a deep breath, more painful than you would’ve ever imagined.
Image after image of the attack replayed in your mind.
Of the screams no one seemed to hear.
Of the prayers to let you go.
Of his hands punching you and throwing you against the walls and objects in the room as if you were garbage.
Of his feet kicking you.
Of those scissors that had torn your skin and stabbed you.
“Oh baby.” You felt Will's thumb wipe away a tear that had slipped down your temple without you even realizing it. “C’mere.”He stood up and hugged you as best he could again, being careful this time not to hurt you. “It's okay, you're here with me now and you're safe. That piece of shit won't hurt you again I promise.”
It was as if that hug had triggered something inside you and you burst into tears, lifting your arms and encircling his chest while venting all the suppressed emotions.
“I was… I was so scared Will… T-that I wouldn't see you again…”
Will pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a sweet and long kiss as he savored and thanked the angels for still giving the opportunity to do it.
“I know darling, I know, I can't even imagine what you went through…”
He stroked your hair, your skin marred by scratches and bruises. “It shouldn't have happened to you, I'm so sorry my love. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you...” he kissed you again. “But you're safe now okay? Now you're here with me, you're safe, and unless I’ll die I'll never let you out of my sight again.”
You giggled through your tears, hugging again the man you loved more than anything else.
“I love you so much more Will Halstead, it's not your fault okay? Please always remember that, it wasn't you who did it but that son of a bitch.”
He didn't answer but held you tighter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers ran through his fluffy hair. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying.
“Hey, hey, it's okay. You really think I would leave you? Who would’ve made your life a living hell if I died?” You tried to ease the tension. “Oh baby I love you so much.”
“I thought I lost you… When I found you there…” His words came muffled but he stopped, not even being able to finish the sentence. He didn't want to think about those horrible moments anymore, about the fear he felt, even though he knew those images would never leave his mind.
A feeling of anguish took hold of you after hearing he was the one who found you. You couldn't imagine how horrible it was to find your wife, your partner, the person you care about most, almost dying.
“Shh it’s okay,” you whispered “Look at me.”
He slightly lifted his head and if your heart wasn't broken enough already, it was in that moment. You cupped your hands over his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. He leaned into your touch, looking at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world.
“I'm here, I'll get better. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. If anything you saved me baby, if you hadn't found me I would’ve probably bled to death so stop blaming yourself okay? Do it for me.“
He nodded and you smiled before pressing your lips to his in a sweet, gentle kiss.
“I’m so sorry love I don’t want to make this about me,” he said wiping again his tears and you both chuckled.
“Yeah yeah, sure, you egocentric bastard.” You rolled your eyes and burst out laughing at the same time even if you stopped immediately after, holding your stomach. “Fuck it hurts.”
“I know you’re so funny baby but take it easy.”
Despite everything, despite the pain, the anxiety and the terror of dying, the fear of never seeing that red hair again, of never hugging him, you were so grateful for still being there. You were grateful to life for giving you another opportunity, for allowing to live, to cry again, to love.
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Accident
Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader
A/N: cutesy little one shot that i dont rlly like but whatever. hope you guys enjoy it. I love Connor, but god I really need to pick a hyper fixation. Guess who’s loving Chicago P.D. rn???
warnings: cussing (i think), not proofread, canon typical medical talk? (i think), kissing, confrontation.
You always hated driving. Not that you sucked at it or anything, you just never trusted any other driver on the road.
It could be considered an ‘irrational fear’ but you would consider it being cautionary and safe. Nothing wrong with that. Well until you actually had to drive for yourself. Then there was everything wrong with it. The unnecessary anxiety, triple checking your surroundings, not being able to fully be comfortable. Just not your cup of tea. Especially today.
Moments like these make you miss your ex. He always drove you everywhere. It was like a deal you guys had, he would drive and you would cook. It’s not like either of you weren’t capable of doing those tasks, it’s just when you have someone else who would rather do it for you, why not?
Today however there was no avoiding you driving. You had to testify in court for a case you worked awhile back. Perks of being a detective. Well at least the plan was to testify in court. That was until about an hour ago before you got T-boned in the middle of an intersection.
A drunk driver ran a red light hitting your driver side door trapping you in the car. You became unconscious on impact, but luckily for you Firehouse 51 had been the one to respond to your accident.
You woke up in the ambulance shocked of course, but relief came over you as you realized Sylvie Brett had been your EMT.
“What happened?” You asked a little out of breath.
“Hey you’re okay. It was just a car accident. Other driver was completely fine, Burgess and Atwater took him in. You were unconscious when we found you, but we think it was just from shock. You have no major injuries besides what may be a fracture on your left forearm, we’re taking you to med to have them run some more tests.”
Processing the information, you look at your left arm to see that it is definitely broken. Lucky for you, you can’t exactly feel it at the moment so you just sigh. After a few seconds you feel like you’re forgetting something. Wait. Shit.
“Do you think i’ll be able to make it to court in…” checking the time on your now broken watch, “15 minutes.” Fuck.
“I think you’ll be lucky if they don’t keep you overnight for observation,” She says will a wry smile.
“We’re about 3 minutes from med if that helps!” Chout tells from the drivers seat.
No Chout. It doesn’t help.
“Just my luck.” You mutter rolling your eyes.
When you arrived at Med, Will Halstead ended up being your doctor.
“Jeez Y/N, what’d you do this time?” He asks with a joking smile as you’re rolled into the treatment room.
“Oh y’know, the usual.” You joke back wincing a little as he checks your arm.
“Well, as you probably know this arm is definitely broken. April order a portable x-ray and push some pain meds for our dear Y/N here. As for right now since your lucid we can rule out any major injuries, I’m gonna do some more tests to make sure you don’t have a concussion but-”
“Y/N, what the hell happened?!”
Both you and Will look at the man who interrupted him, of course he showed up. Somehow despite you guys being broken up, he still shows up everywhere.
“Connor, what are you doing here?” You ask as he approaches you with more ease.
“Yeah, Connor, Y/N is my patient and I’m pretty sure this would still be considered conflict of interest.” Will adds on earning an eye roll from Dr. Rhodes.
“I’m still your emergency contact.” Connor says holding up your possessions in a matter of fact tone.
“Oh.” Is all your able to say before Will takes a big inhale.
“Well, I’m gonna come back when the x-ray gets here.” Will says a little awkwardly as he shuffles out of the room.
Connor hands sets your things at the foot of your bed earning a muttered thanks from you. Connor turns to leave, but ultimately turns around to stay.
“What happened?” He asks again more worried this time.
“I’m fine-”
“That’s not what I asked. You’re in my ED with a broken forearm and a narly cut on your head, what happened?” He asks folding his arms with a furrowed brow.
“Car accident. I got t-boned at the intersection next to the court house. Guy ran a red light…” You say sheepishly not looking Connor in the eye.
Before you know it Connor had marched his way over to you grabbing your jaw gently to get a better look at your head.
“The cut doesn’t seem too bad. Halstead should be able to close it without stitches.” Connor looked at you with soft eyes, the way he would when you guys were together. Still holding your face, you couldn’t help but melt under his gaze. Subconsciously leaning into his hold you look up at him through your lashes.
“Thanks for being here.”
Connor nods in response and finally lets you go. Sitting in the chair behind him you give him a quizzical look.
“I’m not leaving until you’re all taken care of. You shouldn’t have to sit here alone.” He says resting in the chair kicking one leg over the other.
You chuckle at his response and slightly frown.
“Before I leave I’ll make sure I take you off my emergency contact list,” You say avoiding his gaze.
“What? No? You don’t have to do that.” He says defiantly.
“Yes I do? We broke up remember.” You say finally looking at him again.
“Okay, well,”
“Exactly. There’s no reason you should be getting called when-”
“When you have an emergency? Yeah. Okay.” He interrupts you rolling his eyes.
“Connor, we’re not together anymore. Frankly it’s non of your business what emergencies I have.” You say shrugging. Having this conversation was hurting you more than you let on but it was necessary.
“Well what if we were together? Then what?” He asks making you furrow your brows.
“We’re not though?”
“But what if we were? What if we got back together?”
“We won’t. We wanted different things. We were never meant to work out.”
“But what if we wanted the same things? There’s no reason we should be broken up right now.”
“Connor! What do you want?! You left me!” You say finally snapping with tears coming to your eyes.
“I want you.” He says standing up and grabbing your hand.
“When I got the call that you got hurt, I finally realized that I couldn’t live without you. I’ve been trying for these last few weeks, to make you happy. We had the talk where we wanted different things, and I just made the choice for the both of us. It was wrong. You could’ve died today and I cannot live without you any longer Y/N.”
You deeply exhale as you let his words sink in.
“You just can’t cook on your own can you, Connor?” You asked semi-jokingly but also semi-serious.
Connor scoffs and puts a hand to his chest in disbelief. “Me? Not being able to cook without you? How dare you ever insinuate such a thing!”
Rolling your eyes you pull his hand that you’re still holding closer to you, bringing him down to your level.
Pressing a deep kiss to his lips he holds your face with his other hand. Only pulling away slightly you look into his eyes to try and see what he’s thinking.
“So do you want to try again?” He asks anxiously.
Kissing him again harshly he chuckles in response.
“Does that answer your question?” You ask him to which he smiles.
“Without a doubt.” He says leaning his forehead against yours.
#one chicago#chicago med x reader#chicago med one shot#chicago med fanfiction#chicago med#connor rhodes chicago med#connor rhodes one shot#connor x reader#i love connor rhodes#connor rhodes fanfic#connor rhodes x reader#connor rhodes
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