#but he was in coma. in the second one he's awake- and knows what's about to happen

[docheros]

grieving what i didn't live nor thought about but left a profound mark on me (character jack)

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

[randombush3]

recuérdame

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 1185 (treat this like a prologue ok x)

notes: i hope this actually takes off as a new series so i'm posting it now while i think about what comes next xx

There’s something groggy about the darkness in your mind. It’s not an eyes-closed kind of black; not a piece of white paper doused in ink. 

It’s thick like smog. Grainy. 

And all of a sudden, you are awake. 

There’s an incessant pounding in your mind that is sharp and rhythmic. The lights are too harsh, too much. The bed is hard under your heavy bones. 

You blink and even that small movement is strange, harder than it should be. 

The ceiling is peppered with small, grey dots. It’s terribly ugly, but your eyes cling to it as you try to shake off the haze. 

Slowly, the rest of the room comes into focus: sterile whites, beeping machines, tubes splaying out across what must be your body but feels like deadweight. The steady noise draws your attention after a moment, the sound seeming to echo inside your head. You turn, neck stiff and crunching, to catch a glimpse of a monitor, green lines spiking across its screen. 

The tubes aren’t just on top of you. They must be inside you. 

Something twists in your stomach. 

“You’re… awake.” 

…

No one really knows what to say to Alexia when she receives the call. 

Training is running over, the sun is beginning to set, and the girls are getting restless. The drill is nothing special, and the boredom it brings infects their captain, too, despite her valiant attempts at maturity. 

Alexia wants to get home, tonight of all nights. 

Five days ago, a work trip left her alone with a daughter that isn’t quite hers. There has been an other-mother shaped hole in the family ever since. Madrid continues to be evil. Her Catalan pride is vindicated once more. 

So when Pere blows his whistle, she all but sprints into the changing room (much to her coach’s dismay, since training ended because he assumed no one could run at that speed anymore), image of picture-perfect leadership be damned. 

Her shower is fast, clothes are shoved on even faster, and she is just about to walk through the automatic exit doors when her phone rings. 

A location update, she assumes. Or a complaint from an impatient tweenager (god, they seem to be fountains of those). 

It’s to her horror that she is incorrect. 

The nurse on the other line is eerily calm, but does not waste time beating around the bush. Her instructions are clear: come to the hospital now. 

“I think my fiancée has just died,” Alexia tells no one in particular. 

The team isn't sure whether or not she is joking. 

That was a week ago, and now she is here, in the hospital. Her bum is accustomed to the hard plastic chairs, her schedule skewed until the doctors finally wake you up from a medically induced coma. Amaia, her stepdaughter, is at her friend’s house, the boy’s mother insisting she care for her while Alexia makes a rather practical visit to the hospital. 

Alexia’s hands shake as she brings them to her face, rubbing her temples. The past week has been wrapped around her like a noose, suffocating and taut. She’s holding herself together but she is doing an uncharacteristically catastrophic job at it. Her mind is still tangled up in the phone call she’d received – and the many others she’d had to make after the nurse had hung up. Although there has been a swarm of activity (flights landing, taxis to the hospital, meals arriving at her front door with well-meaning notes attached), life has felt still. Stagnant. 

She is stuck in something she doesn’t know how to deal with. 

She closes her eyes for a second and inhales with as much steadiness as she can muster, letting the beeping of your monitor anchor her back to the present. It’s a strange sound to feel grateful for, each pulse a reminder that you are still here. With her. 

They have been gradually reducing the sedatives administered to you, making the answer to her question always ‘she will wake up when she wakes up’. The twitches in your finger have grown old now, and she is becoming very impatient. 

“If you wanted a holiday, we could’ve taken time off,” she tells you with a forced chuckle. “You didn’t need to get yourself into a…” 

You shift slightly in the bed. Alexia’s eyes snap open, her body surging upwards in hope. 

“Come on…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please…”

Your eyelids flutter, hesitant, like they’re testing the weight of the world behind them. She hopes: at least it’s something. 

And it could be more, surely? It should be any minute now, according to the doctors. The wait will be over and she can get you back.

It’s been fifteen days since Alexia saw the eyes she fell in love with. 

Words fall out of her mouth but she barely registers them, staring at you listlessly, unprepared for this moment. She had thought about it, of course, imagining how to go about updating you on what you’ve missed: how Amaia’s match yesterday ended in a draw; how her own was a sizable but unsatisfying win. 

She wants to say things she should say more. Reminders, confessions. She wants to let out the anger that you did this to her; that you left, that you didn’t come back. And how she wants to hold you, kiss you, love you even more.

But the first thing Alexia notices behind bleary eyes is terror. Confusion. And, what she had told herself would not happen: a lack of recognition. 

I’m in a hospital, you think, but I don’t know who is here with me. 

The moment stretches on, thin and frail, and Alexia feels the tautness in her stomach like a rope holding dead weight over a cliff. Her heart – bruised, aching, impatient – is pierced by the way you look at her with poorly-masked indifference. 

“Hi,” she tries, waiting for you to come back fully, wanting to skip the part where it hurts so much. Her hand reaches out, hovering above your own, fingers aching to touch you, but she holds back. “Do you know where we are?” 

She should really call the nurse in, but she can’t quite bring herself to disrupt this. 

Your eyes flicker, glancing at the tubes and machines. The mattress hasn’t gotten any softer, nor your body any lighter. “Hospital,” you whisper, throat scratchy and hoarse. The word appears in your mind as almost foreign, coming from somewhere deeper than the blankness of the surface. Then your gaze drifts back to her, the hopeful woman at your bedside, brows furrowing as you struggle to place her into a life you can’t quite recall. Not that you’ve tried; you’ve got a screaming headache. 

The question on your lips twists Alexia’s insides. She anticipates it, with an instinctiveness that almost frustrates you. “I’m Alexia,” she says. She doesn’t sound sure. 

You stare through her and the distance clutches at her neck. Her nightmare lands, cold and final. 

“I’m… sorry. I don’t,” and like how she knows the question, she is well aware of the end of that sentence. 

[alexxajay]

Emergency Contact

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, heartbreak, mentions of drinking *SFW*

WC: 2.8k of pure angst <3 (you’ll giggle a little bit tho, promise)

You and Hyunjin had a mutual breakup over a year ago, but apparently he forgot to remove you as his emergency contact and feelings are revisted…

You were stupid. That was the only excuse you could come up with for your decisions.

You were stupid and maybe even a little pathetic.

One moment you were curled into your couch with a fuzzy blanket and a freshly brewed cup of coffee, the next you were praying to God that no one had taken pictures of the drunk idiot sleeping at one of the tables in some late night ramen restaurant.

You sat at the red light, your fingers tapping rhythmically to the new song that you’d heard on the radio a few times before. Your mind couldn’t help but to wander off to a year prior where everything in your life was different. You had a different job, a different apartment, a different wardrobe and hairstyle. You even had a boyfriend back then. Every aspect of your life had changed after him and here he was wiggling his way back into it like a stubborn little rat that you couldn’t catch.

As you pull into a parking space in front of the building, you take a few deep breaths to calm the nerves that skyrocketed the second you turned off your car. You hadn’t seen him since he turned his back on you with red eyes, his hands tangled into his messy hair as sobs quietly echoed against the walls of your apartment as he left you behind. There were a few conversations texted here and there with the two of you catching up, but it was all small talk that even strangers could have. You hadn’t heard his voice or seen him with your own eyes in over a year, and yet here you were at his rescue because of some stupid phone call you’d gotten at one o’clock in the morning.

The jingle of a bell announces your arrival and an older woman greets you politely as you step inside. You smile kindly and then your eyes scan the room for the idiot before landing on the familiar figure hunched over onto the red table, empty bottles of soju accompanying him in his slumber. You could only scoff in amazement at the fact he managed to drink all of that alone. He wasn’t even that great of a drinker. What the hell possessed him to drink himself into a coma on a Thursday night?

Your hand comes down onto his back a bit harshly as you attempt to pat him awake. It took a few more rough shoves and a loud call of his name before his head finally raised and he groaned in annoyance. A quiet laugh escaped your lips as his eyes struggled to adjust to the light, a used napkin stuck to his cheek with some unknown sauce smeared across it.

“Hyunjin, get up. Let’s go.”

“What?”

“Let’s go.” You repeat, turning your head to look over your shoulder for anyone that may recognize him. “Did you pay for your food already?”

He was still trying to make sense of his (very bright) surroundings and who was asking him about the bill he’d already paid for. You watched in amusement as his eyes grew twice their size as they connected with yours, his mouth dropping open slightly. You weren’t sure what emotions reflected in those brown orbs. Shock? Fear? Sadness? What you did know is that Hyunjin hadn’t expected for you to be here.

“Y/N?”

“Did you pay your bill, drunk boy?”

“Yea- Yes.” He stutters and squeezes his eyes shut to focus the blurry image of you. “What are you doin- Why are here?”

“You passed out after stuffing yourself full of ramen and soju and the nice lady at the register called your emergency contact.”

His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, his ears red from both alcohol and bow embarrassment.“Oh…forgot to change that.” He slurs.”I should’ve changed that. I’m sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence as he stares up at you deep in thought, your hand coming towards his face to detach the dirty napkin from his cheek causing him to flinch back into reality.

“Let’s go before someone sees you.”

He’s obedient as he pushes the chair back to stand, your shoulder scrunching up to touch your right ear at the loud noise it made scraping against the floor. His hand reaches up to push his bangs away from his face, a sniffle coming from him as he gathered his phone and wallet. He nearly topples over as he turns to follow you to the register, his hand flying out to find balance on your shoulder as you assured that his bill had been paid for with the worker.

Loading him into the car was easier than you’d expected as he was able to climb in by himself. There had been one too many times in the past where you literally had to shove the man limb by limb into the car because he had way more than he should’ve with his friends.

“Do you stay at the same apartments?”

“No, we all moved into new ones.” Hyunjin takes a deep breath as the room began to spin. You watch as he closes his eyes and leans his seat back a bit to try and reground himself. “ I live with Changbin now.”

“What’s your address?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hyunjin.”

“I can’t remember.”he mumbles.

You scoff. “Give me your phone.”

It took you a few minutes, but eventually you were able to find his address embedded in google maps. Hyunjin had never been great with directions, so you knew that there wasn’t a way he didn’t have his addresses saved as “home” for easy access when needed. You leaned across the console to buckle him into his seat belt before returning to your seat and doing the same for yourself.

“You smell good.” He hums quietly. “New perfume?”

“Yeah.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks.”

The rest of the ride was silent. It wasn’t awkward; there weren’t any emotions weighing heavy in the air. It was peaceful. Familiar. It made you reminiscence of the multiple late night rides he’d taken you on when he wasn’t able to sleep and didn’t want to be alone. You’d always sit snuggled into one of his blankets from home with your eyes closed, feeling the breeze of the wind blowing throughout the car and listening to him hum his favorite songs. His hand typically rested on your thigh giving it a loving squeeze every now and then to remind himself that you’re there even if you were half asleep.

That described your relationship. Peaceful. Loving. Familiar. Neither of you knew where it went wrong and that’s what hurt him the most. One day you both had decided that something didn’t feel the same in your heads anymore which led to confused hearts, and rather than stringing the other along you both decided to call it quits.

It’s no secret that Hyunjin took it a lot harder than you did. He loved you so much and wanted to fix things between you, but how could you fix the tangled mess that was in his mind? That wasn’t fair to you, and that’s why he let go.

It was hard at first. His everyday routine had revolved around either you or his job depending on what point in their career the boys were in, and unfortunately for him he couldn’t drown himself in work. So, he rearranged his apartment, he started trying new painting techniques, and going to the gym with Changbin who claimed that exercise was the best way to heal your brain. It worked for a while but he felt himself slowly falling into a slump that was hard to get out of. He spent more time crying than he did doing anything productive and he truly doesn’t think he would’ve made it through his depression episode without the help of his best friends. Then, their schedules picked up again and Hyunjin was slowly able to regain his smile with time, pushing those wonderful moments he shared with you to the back of his brain. He thought he’d finally accepted your ending and then he saw it.

An old picture of the two of you he had forgotten to delete from his phone still living in his memories album, “1 year ago” flashing across his screen with bold lettering as if it were taunting him.

It was a picture of you two on your second anniversary. He had taken you to Italy and let you live your “romcom fantasy” like you’d always told him you dreamed about. That trip was full of love, giggles, and experiences you told him that you’d never forget. If someone told him back then that you two wouldn’t be together the following year, he’d laugh in their face and call bullshit.

You were undeniably in love and you were meant to last forever.

That’s when the day dawned on him.

Your anniversary was tomorrow and there was no more love to be shared.

He tried not to think about it. He really did. However, Changbin had gone to visit his family and Hyunjin was all alone in their apartment with his thoughts. His mind spiraled and those feelings he thought were gone crawled their way back up his throat until he let out a bitter cry that bounced back at him from against the walls.

It turns out you can only bury and try to forget your feelings for someone for so long until something triggers it. Thats how he found himself taking deep breaths and focusing on the feel of the wind on his face to stop his stomach from churning, threatening to empty its contents in your car.

Twenty minutes later and you were practically carrying Hyunjin’s 5’10 frame into his apartment. You counted nearly four times that the two of you had nearly face planted onto the ground due to his lack of core and foot control, grumbling complaints of, “aren’t you supposed to have great foot work?”, and gaining giggles from him in return.

“What’s the code, Jinnie?” You question once you (hopefully) arrive at the right front door.

His long fingers tap at the keypad and an amused snort escapes his lips when the door flashed red.

Wrong code.

He types it again. Wrong code.

Then again. Wrong Code.

“Hyunjin!” You fight laughter.” You can’t be serious right now ?!”

“This is hard! The numbers are so tiny.”

“What’s the code? I’ll do it.”

He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. “I can’t tell you that. What if you break in and steal stuff or or you let the Stays in?”

You stare at the man that continues slurring his concerns of being robbed or seen naked in complete and utter disbelief. You forgot how amusingly idiotic he could be.

“Do you want to sleep outside of your front door tonight?”

“No?”

“Then tell me the code.”

He hesitates. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Promise?!”he shouts.

“I promise!” You shout back and hate that a laugh erupts from your chest halfway through.”You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I’m a cute idiot, though.” He dramatically bats his eyelashes and you give him a playful shove, your own body collapsing over itself in a fit of laughter when he lost his balance and into the wall, then progressed to the floor.

“You tryin’ to kill me, woman?!”

“For the love of God, Hyunjin. What’s the code to your apartment?!”

Nearly ten minutes standing at his front door like a pair of idiots had passed before you finally got the correct code and allowed Hyunjin to crawl his way in the door behind you. Their new dorm was a lot bigger and a lot nicer than the ones you had known previously, and it was surprisingly clean.

“Hey, Y/N. Want a tour of our new place? It’s so much nicer than the last one.”

“Let’s get you some water first and then you can show me, yeah?”

He bounced happily behind you as you made your way to the kitchen to find him some water of any shape or form. Upon opening the fridge you playfully rolled your eyes at the view: water, chicken, and some random ingredients that couldn’t have possibly made an actual meal. Why you expected anything different you weren’t sure.

Once Hyunjin downed the water and you made him assure you he wasn’t going to vomit, you allowed him to grab your hand and drag you through his apartment. He claimed he wouldn’t sleep until you saw every nook and cranny and complimented how clean they managed to keep it because he’d worked so hard while Changbin was gone.

Before long you had convinced him to finally wind down for bed. He was like a child almost. Hyunjin obediently went to brush his teeth, wash his face, and even placed his clothes in the laundry basket “just for you because I’m a clean guy. See?”

You watched as he cutely mumbled to himself about which pair of pajamas he wanted to wear to bed. One was the wrong color, one was too suffocating, and eventually he found what he called “baggy enough” to sleep in comfortably.

“Y/N you have to turn around.”

“What?”

“So I can put my pajamas on.”

“Hyunjin, you’re already half naked?”

You jumped at the sudden high pitched scream that left his lips, your eyes blown wide and your hand clutching your imaginary pearls. Hyunjin’s hands were dramatically tossed across his body as he attempted to cover himself from your sight.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“You’ve been staring at me in my underwear?!”

“Are you serious right now?!”

“Turn around!”

“We’ve literally had sex and showered together?!”

“I’m shy, Y/N!”

“You’re unbelievable, I swear.” You’re slightly annoyed as you go to step out of the room but your breath catches as he grabs your waist to stop you.

“No, don’t leave, yet. Just- Just turn around…”

“You owe me for this, yanno?” You give him attitude, yet spin around to allow him to get dressed anyway. “I shouldn’t have to put up with you being an idiot all because you left me as an emergency contact.”

“I’m sorry. Just stay until I go to sleep?”

“Hyunjin-“

He interrupts and steals your heart for a second time as he turns you around to show off his pout and sad puppy dog eyes. “Please.”

So, you agree, allowing him to tug you into his bed and get settled and tucked in beside you. He rests his cheek onto your shoulder and you give the opposite cheek a pat, ignoring the pang you felt in your heart when he hummed contently and leaned into your palm, his lips pressing a small kiss to your wrist just as he used to.

“Get some sleep, Hyunjin.“

“Thank you for this, Y/N. Means a lot.”

“Just don’t get drunk like that in public again. You never know who’s out there watching you, Jinnie.”

“I know…I was just sad” he admits and before you can question him any further he request, “Can you play with my hair, Y/N?”

“Yeah…”

You missed him.

You had immersed yourself into your new job and setting up a new life to forget about the heartbreak you were going through, and now here you were on the verge of tears as he slowly fell asleep beside you. Those beautiful memories and the emotions hit you like a truck for the second time, as if you’d only broken up yesterday.

All because you were left as his emergency contact and he was too drunk to get home alone.

You fucking missed him.

Twenty silent moments had passed before you decided his breath evened out enough that he was nearly sleep. You slowly slipped his head from your shoulder and inched your way out of the bed. Taking one last look at his face was the biggest mistake you could’ve made. He looked so happy with his lips turned up slightly and his hair messy from you running your hands through it to lull him to sleep. You press a gentle kiss to his forehead and take small, quiet steps away from the bed to leave.

You were nearly out the door when his groggy voice echoed against the walls of his bedroom.

“Today’s our anniversary.”

The sudden announcement leaves shock evident on your face and a sting of tears in your eyes.

It had officially been one year, two months, and three days since you both chose to end your relationship and today was the day you would’ve celebrated your love for each other. It totally slipped your mind, but apparently it had been weighing heavy on his, and that’s part of what led to the breakup in the first place.

There’s tears glistening in his eyes as he smiles at you, your chest growing heavy and tears mirroring his own as his voice cracks with his next sentence.

“Happy three years, Y/N. I love you.”

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[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 6

i get it now

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a/n: OKAY OKAY this is a super fucking long chapter i am so sorry but i had to finish up the rest of the canon and add some cheeky little sam and tara moments for y'all. plsplspls forgive me.

pairing: ex!tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: LONG ASS CHAPTER. cursing, threatening language, gun usage, knife usage, major character deaths, stabbing, blood, gore, descriptions of murder, straight up murder. 6.7k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

“you’re not woodsboro.”

sam’s voice rang in your ears as your head pounded. you were in pain, your arm stung, your eyes felt heavy. it’s like you were coming out of a coma.

when you regained consciousness, you saw that danny was already awake. you tried to speak but you found that there were several layers of duct tape holding your mouth shut. you tried to move then realised you were restrained— that’s why your arm hurt so much.

you were tied to something. you tried to turn your head and you felt a rough, coarse material against your cheek. looking further, you were tied to a mannequin.

you turned over to danny and saw that he was trying to figure out where you were. the room was nearly completely dark, you guys were working only with the light that was shining through cracks in the door.

you deduced that you were probably inside the theater, you were just unsure about where exactly. you knew how you got here, it wasn’t hard to figure that part out. a part of you was frustrated that you allowed it to happen.

you heard commotion outside. it sounded like rattling.

and then it was screaming.

it sounded like tara for a second, you tried to fight against the rope that tied your hands together. you had no idea what was happening out there but there’s no way it was any good.

as the sound got further away, the door clicked open, revealing bailey.

you tried to speak against the tape on your mouth, asking him for help. as he tilted his head, looking at you mockingly, you quickly put together that he wasn't here to help.

"you were just too easy of a target." he said, the shift in his tone was unmissable. he had gone from a man that you relied on to a ruthless killer. "and now sam is gonna suffer the consequences of her actions."

he was a ghostface walking in to collect you and danny. danny tried to fight against the movement but you knew it was no use. the ghostface wheeled you to the stage, setting you on the right side of the glass enclosure that held billy loomis’ get-up. danny was placed on the opposite side.

god, you felt like you were about to throw up. they trusted him. you even trusted him. he was police, he was supposed to make you feel safe.

you suddenly felt a mesh fabric fall over your head. you were wearing one of the ghostface cloaks. you had no idea who it belonged to but you were uncomfortable knowing it belonged to someone that died.

you saw him do the same to danny. your cloaks looked similar, as if they were a part of a matching set. you looked straight ahead and squinted your eyes. the lights were blinding, the fact that there was a sheet in the way wasn’t helping.

you managed to make out shadows running towards the cinema’s entrance door. two, to be exact.

when the doors swung open, you saw sam and tara running into the room. where was chad? and mindy? and ethan? and kirby? you had too many questions. they were down too many people.

strength in numbers.

suddenly, you heard footsteps trade places with each other. one was running towards you and the other was walking away. someone in a ghostface attire brushed past you, you turned to see bailey walking backstage.

you watched as the ghostface leaped down the stage through the sheet. you only had a sliver of vision to work with. you tried crying out again once you saw the two girls come closer, but it was no use. they were too occupied by... two ghostfaces?

fuck. there were three of them.

only two sisters.

a gust of wind opened up more of the sheet. you watched as sam grabbed two bricks and handed one to tara. smart girl. you heard tara cry out for her sister, you felt yourself start to cry at the girl's helpless pleas.

"ready?" you heard sam ask, it was only met with tara's breathless sobs. "i need you to be ready. you ready?"

they were about to fight. you were scared shitless. they had bricks. the killers had knives. it could go any way. you knew that the girls were more than capable, but that didn't stop the images of their dead bodies on the carpet flooding through your head.

"come on motherfucker!" you heard tara scream. there she fucking was. a fire in you was lit when you heard that, you felt yourself ready to spring into action the second you were free.

suddenly, gunshots.

"it's okay!" you heard kirby walk out from the other side of the sheet. fuck, if only she saw you.

"stay the fuck back!" sam yelled at her. what the fuck was going on? why did sam suddenly distrust kirby too?

"we know it's you, kirby." tara said. you saw sam step back, bringing tara along with her.

bailey must have said something to them. him and kirby were in the same field but they butted heads too much. you knew he would try and turn them against her.

"somebody knocked me out!" kirby said in a begging tone, she needed sam and tara to believe her.

"kirby, stop!" you heard that deep authoritative voice again. he switched over too quickly. "get away from the girls!" you saw him come down the aisle with his gun drawn.

"what are you doing?" kirby asked him.

"did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?" his act was convincing. if you didn't know any better, you'd believe him too.

wait. quinn. why would he kill his own daughter? unless... oh my god.

"jesus christ!" kirby exclaimed. "whatever he's been saying to you, please don't listen to him. he's probably the killer."

please, please, please.

believe her. please.

the sheet covered your vision again, you had no idea what to think when you heard "behind you!" and three shots fired.

when your field of view increased again, you realised kirby was nowhere to be seen.

no!

you couldn't make out anything more. you heard faint voices but not enough to make anything clear out of it. for a theater, it had horrible acoustics.

you watched as the reveal happened.

ethan went first. he took of his mask, a sinister smile on his face. mindy was right, she was always right.

"fuck it felt good to kill him!" was the only thing you could make out from ethan's speech. him? chad? you had no idea where he was. you hoped that he didn't mean chad.

and then there she was, in all her very much alive glory. quinn.

you knew he wouldn't kill his own daughter.

it was eerily impressive, how they faked her death. you had to hand it to them for that one, it broke hearts. it tore down their morale.

you saw ethan and quinn disappear from your view, replaced by bailey wielding billy loomis' mask, handing it to sam. he wanted her to put it on, she looked repulsed by it.

"if you don't put it on... well..." ethan and quinn worked together to yank the sheet down, revealing you and danny. two spotlights were pointed directly at you. there was also a series of clips projected onto your skin, you couldn't make out exactly what they were.

sam and tara turned around to face you. the looks on their faces were a mix of things; fear, anger, worry, and most importantly, regret.

you were crying.

crying so much that your chest felt tight.

sam wanted more than anything to just run to you and set you free. she owed you a million apologies when you got out of this, but it was her call that ended with you in this position, so she didn't know if you would ever forgive her.

and tara would never forgive her either. seeing your snot and tear covered face broke her to pieces. she still cared for you, and she never wished this on you.

"we have two of your very dear friends to use as leverage!" bailey laughed, stepping closer to the two girls. "the more the merrier!"

quinn stepped closer to you, roughly ripping the tape off your mouth. the skin that held the adhesive grew hot, stinging. ethan walked back down the stage to join his father.

your voice was choked down by saliva and breathlessness, but you still managed.

"sam!!" you shouted at her. you were going to say more but quinn stepped behind you, holding a knife to your throat. you backed your head up as far as you could against the mannequin.

"stay the fuck away from her!" sam barked an order at quinn. but quinn knew she had the upper hand.

"hey tara!" quinn called out to the younger girl. tara turned to look at her, a glare on her face.

"the fuck do you want, quinn?" tara hissed at her.

"isn't it ironic that she's wearing your girl's cloak?" quinn tilted her head. "we thought it would be a little bit symbolic. you wanted her to be so much like amber and now here she is, sporting her wardrobe."

that was revolting. you wanted to take this thing off and take a five-hour long shower. you wanted to claw and itch at the fabric until it was torn into shreds.

"and not just that! sam... your boy toy is wearing richie!" ethan covered his mouth to mock snicker at her. "it's just too good!"

"you made it so easy, sam. when you made that call to leave them outside? we thought we would have to work harder." bailey sneered. "i bet you're regretting it now."

he was right. she was regretting it. she should have trusted you. and even if you ended up being the killer, she would have found a way. sam always finds a way.

"why the fuck are you doing this? you did this as a family?!" sam asked bailey, simultaneously spinning around to keep an eye on you and danny as well.

"oh yeah, bitch! you should know better than anyone!" quinn snapped at her.

"they're still not getting it!" ethan ridiculed them.

"i don't know what you believe but i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro! it wasn't me!" sam was trying to multitask figuring something out, how you could all get out of this alive.

"of course you didn’t! you think this is about that conspiracy theory bullshit?" bailey scoffed. "who do you think started those rumors about you in the first place?"

from behind you, quinn raised her hand.

"do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro to the villain?" you weren't surprised. you knew how tech-savvy quinn was, even outside of ghostface. "how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?"

while ethan went on about destroying someone's character, your eyes scanned your surroundings. maybe you could figure out your own way of escaping so tara and sam had less to focus on.

"ah, ah, ah. eyes up, pretty girl. can't take any chances." quinn said, nudging your chin up with her knife. she leaned closer to your ear. "you know, it's a shame tara got to you first, i think you and i could have been fun."

you rolled your eyes at her, "dream on, quinn."

"i never had a chance anyway. i heard you have a thing for carpenters." she giggled. "i wonder how you're gonna feel when we slaughter them both in front of you."

"fuck off, quinn!" you spat at her. she just laughed softly and stood back upright.

"so when dad here 'discovers' your horribly mutilated bodies posed with sam wearing her father’s mask? he’ll say some poor dumb bastard must have read on the internet that you’re the real ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands!"

it was an interesting plan, you thought, they would get what they wanted. they would get sam out of the way and get away with their own crimes. the only way for you all to get out of it though? kill them first.

"and even better! we'll say you went crazy and wanted to relive what you had with richie, so you dressed poor danny up in his clothes and killed him!" ethan's laughter hurt to hear.

"that's why it’s the perfect alibi!" bailey was practically jumping for joy. "because like all the best lies are based on a truth - you’re a killer, just like your father was."

"don't listen to them, sam!" you interrupted him. bold, you knew. but you had to say something to get her to focus on the real goal. she looked at you and nodded.

"i'm not a killer!" sam screeched.

"yes you are motherfucker, you killed our brother!" quinn's voice was piercing your ears. she had raised her voice and you had to recoil to avoid your eardrums being burst again.

"your brother?" tara started. "your brother died in a car accident."

"people lie, tara!" ethan interjected. "our brother died in woodsboro... at the hands of your bitch sister!"

sam blinks for a beat. she looks at ethan, then at quinn, then at he detective. she saw him in them. she just had to look hard enough. there was only one person it could have been.

"richie?" she pauses. "you're richie's family?"

ethan lunged forward, driving his knife into her collar. you let out a scream as sam clutched her wound, tara holding her up to support her.

"ding-ding-ding! she's getting it now!" ethan said, stepping back again.

you watched as tara and sam knocked over a statue and made their way to the side of the theater.

ethan gave chase,. tara swung a brick towards him, nearly nicking him.

"come on!!" you roared, trying to push them. you were about to scream again until you felt a sharp pain at your side. your cry of fury turned into a cry of pain. quinn had stabbed you, her knife completely inserted into your side. "fuck!" you cried out.

sam and tara both turned their attention to you. the knife hanging out of your side was enough to send both their lunches back up. sam's eyes hardened, like she was turning into a completely different person. she swore that she would wrangle the life out of quinn, even if it was the last thing she did.

"there she is." quinn smirked at sam. "there's the fucking killer."

you felt the wind sucked out of you when she retracted the blade, blood trickling down into your hipbone. the pain was unbearable, you didn't know how sam recovered so quickly after being stabbed.

"nice job with the parenting." tara mocked bailey.

"shut up!" ethan yelled, shoving tara and sam back over to the middle aisle. "get over there!"

bailey huffed. "am i a perfect dad? no. did i overindulge richie's fascination with these silly movies a little too much? maybe." he held his hand out. "for me, they're just a little dark."

you agreed with him. they made your stomach churn. you first watched them with mindy when you discovered the series of killings in woodsboro. she wanted to show you the films to give you a better insight on what happened. yes, they were overexaggerated but they still played a big part in the franchise.

"but... richie really loved them." he feigned a crying tone. "he even made a few of his own."

you realised that the clips being projected on your body were richie's films.

bailey ascended the steps, moving closer to you and danny. quinn made her way over to danny too, you knew that if the sisters tried anything, he would suffer an injury too.

"richie was a very passionate collector, as you can see." bailey gestured to the entire theater.

"this... this was all his?" sam asked, her voice stuttering.

you had grown to hate this richie guy. you hated the idea of him hunting sam down and earning her trust, only to turn out to be an obsessive creep.

"it was. and he even seemed to inspire others. so we had to kill those wannabe's... because we wanted the privilege of taking your life." bailey shrugged. "i built this shrine for him after he died to honour his memory." he turned around to watch his son's film again. "which is why this is where you have to die, sam."

"what happens next? after you're done with us, what? you just disappear?" sam asked, shaking her head.

"no!" bailey waved his hand at her in dismissal. "we gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale don't pull through!"

mindy. mindy was at the hospital. you knew something was wrong when you didn't see her come in with everyone else.

"because everybody dies, sam!" bailey raised his gun to point the barrel at sam. "everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son! suffers. and dies."

"fuck yeah!" quinn and ethan cheered for their father. they were pumped up and ready to slash their knives at anything.

"now put on the mask." bailey ordered her.

you watched as sam looked at the ground. her face changed. she had all that pent up rage brewing deep down inside of her. it was reaching its boiling point. you almost leaned forward in anticipation.

"he was..." sam breathed slowly. "so pathetic."

yes, he was. cause anyone who decided that it would be fun to cross sam was absolutely fucking pathetic.

bailey stumbled over his words, his voice turning nasal. "that's... that's not true!"

sam was drawing them in, poking at all their weak spots. she was trying to rile them up then shoot them down. tara knew what she was doing, she understood her sister more than anyone.

"yeah... he was a man-baby." she prodded further, "who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

you wish you could see the detective's face right now, he was beginning to crack. you found amusement in it.

"he was a strong, virile young man?" jesus, who uses virile?

"he was a limp-dick little fuck." she stressed her words. "who cried before i slit his throat."

there she was, that was your sam. the sam that carried the rage of a thousand suns and the sam that wouldn't hesitate to use it to save the ones she loved.

"shut the fuck up!" quinn yelled from the stage, running straight towards tara. she jumped down and tara swung the brick at her. you swear you saw her teeth fly out of her mouth.

kirby suddenly rose from her state, firing bullets at detective bailey. tara ran straight for you, grabbing a blade from one of the cases. as she cut you loose, you watched kirby get tackled to the floor by ethan.

sam turned around to help her. as he plunged his knife into her, sam hit him in the head with a brick. she yanked the blade out of kirby as ethan recovered, a hand on the back of his head.

"got it!" tara declared, undoing the ropes. you put a hand to your side, it was still bleeding but you were confident you could pull through.

"go help danny!" you told her. she was about to turn but you pulled her back suddenly. "thank you. you did well." you said to her, she nodded and turned back around to run to danny.

danny ran out the back door, tara pushed a prop closet in front of it to block it. she sent him to get help and wanted to maximise your chances of getting it.

you faced sam again, only to see her jabbing her knife into ethan's chest, multiple times.

good, you should do it more. you said in your mind.

more. more more.

she stopped after tara got her attention, staring to climb the ladder to the second floor. sam ran to where you were standing at the bottom. she wanted to throw her arms around you, but you weren't even looking at her.

you wanted her to do the same but not now. she left you earlier, she left you to get taken. sure, she didn't mean to serve you up on a silver platter.

but she broke her promise to you.

you couldn't face her but you had no choice.

"i can't do it. my arm." you had been working on regaining mobility in your hand, but your arm wasn't strong enough yet.

"tara! i need your help!" sam called out to her sister, who was already up there. she then turned to you. "it's okay, we'll get you up there."

you had zero confidence in yourself at the moment. you knew it was going to be incredibly hard for you, but wishful thinking sometimes gets you places.

you put your foot onto one of the steps, using your good arm to hoist yourself up a bit more, climbing the steps you could make. you leaned back a little then lunged your body forward, grabbing the next railing. tara leaned over the banister, reaching a hand down to help you in that last bit.

you had gotten a fair amount up, before quinn suddenly shoved sam out of the way, knocking her down and grabbing you by the shirt. she yanked you down and you fell on your back, groaning.

quinn dragged you by the hair to the middle of the stage. sam was about to follow but you stopped her.

"no, sam!" you commanded her. "tara needs you! i've got this!"

she hesitated. but you were firm in your choice. you would get angry with her if you had to.

"go! now!" she made her way up the ladder and joined tara upstairs. you caught them slowly making their way through the ruins of the abandoned theater.

quinn dropped your hair and took a few paces away from you. you managed to get yourself up but you were slightly hunched over due to the pain from your side.

"hey, pretty girl." quinn taunted you. "you look good covered in blood. maybe you should join our little troupe here." she twisted her blade around her fingers.

"like hell." you scowled at her.

"what? you can't blame a girl for trying!" she chuckled. "come on, you're the perfect killer! just like sam, maybe that's what makes you good for each other, actually."

you tried to regain your breath and strength back as quinn monologued. you winced as you applied pressure on your stab wound.

"you're kind and very very injured. nobody would ever suspect you." she said, her voice turning sultry. "don't you wanna hurt tara for what she did to you? that was your first real heartbreak, wasn't it?"

she took your silence for an answer.

"don't you see? these carpenters are fucked up. they're scum. it would be so much better if the world went on without them." she pointed the knife at the two sisters. "use that fire in you."

you were letting your anger get the best of you now. you wanted to kill quinn for even thinking badly about them. but the question is, could you actually kill someone?

the thought was repulsive. you hated pain, blood, it wasn't something you could take. you didn't think you could take someone's life as easy as anyone else in the room. nevertheless, you wanted her subdued.

"shut up, quinn. you wouldn't know about fire even if it was burning your eyebrows off." you spit out a little bit of blood that was filling your mouth, glaring at her. "this is so fucking boring, you're all talk. where's the fight?"

your head turned sharply at a clattering noise. tara was dangling from the second floor, sam was holding onto her for dear life. ethan took the chance and started swinging at her feet. quinn screeched and charged at you, her blade in the air as she knocked you down to the floor with her shoulder.

she immediately went for your weak arm, stepping down on it and applying her entire body weight on it. you shouted at the sting, you felt like you were a kid all over again, remembering how you felt when it first happened.

she straddled you, one knee on each of your sides. you struggled against her as she used two hands to bring the blade down on you, you were able to get your hands to push against hers.

good! your arm was functional but extremely weak and painful. you had functionality of your fingers still, giving you less of a disadvantage.

you gritted your teeth as you tried to overpower her.

you saw tara still hanging in the corner of your eye. you had to do something now.

you swung your leg up to knee quinn in the back, throwing her off balance. you shoved her until she rolled off you. you stood up to go after her and at least knock her unconscious.

your head practically turned on its own when you heard crashing behind you. tara had fallen off the balcony and into ethan’s knife. your eyes widened as you watched the knife enter her stomach.

your attention flickered to sam on the second level who was coming face to face with bailey.

quinn battled cried behind you, recovering from her stumble. she thrusted her knife into your shoulder, you wailed out in pain. you shouldn’t have gotten distracted. you had to focus.

you kicked her again, ramming the heel of your foot into her thigh. her leg gave out, releasing her knife that was still inside you. you clamped your hand over it’s handle and pulled it out of you with a grunt.

you swerved sideways and switched places with quinn, standing directly behind her. you stomped down on the back of her other leg, getting her to kneel in front of you. you grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head up.

could you really do it? you had the upper hand now, you had a choice to make. did you have it in you to rob quinn of the rest of her life? this was so far from how you made yourself out to be. you thrived on being good to others in hopes that they would do the same for you.

on the contrary, you were good to quinn. and here she was, ready to end your life if given the chance.

as the sight of her brother taking a blade to the mouth unraveled in front of her, you thought that maybe death was too generous for quinn. she could continue to live a life without her family. you watched as tara twisted the knife in ethan's mouth, a proud smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

you almost released quinn and succumbed to your desire to simply knock her out and tie her up so she couldn't interfere anymore.

but then you remembered.

"the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead."

and so has everyone that has fucked with them since. and so has everyone that tried to before. who were you to break the pattern?

"how do you like it now, quinn?" you leaned forward, whispering into her ear. you placed the blade against her throat. "down two brothers." you chuckled, pressing the blade down against her skin.

you watched as sam and bailey fell off the railing in a fight. sam hit the floor while the detective hit the glass case. you were worried for a split second before reminding yourself where you were. you weren't going to give up this advantage.

"and now your father will join you too. i hope you all have a nice family dinner in hell."

front and center stage, you dragged the knife across quinn's throat. the blood spilled like a gushing river. you couldn't watch even as you committed the act. you averted your eyes as you let her body drop to the floor.

you stepped down from the stage, holding onto your wounds. you let your severely damaged arm hang from your side. you felt like a zombie.

you rejoined sam and tara. you saw that tara was holding onto her own battle scar. you coughed up blood but chose to ignore it, wanting to check on the other two.

the three of you stood above the detective's unconscious body. you turned to the two sisters. this really was a damn family matter.

"so... what now?" you asked them. sam sighed softly, relieved that she didn't have to worry about two more of them anymore. she had her sights on bailey.

"i have an idea. but you and tara should take a second." sam put a hand on her sister's shoulder. tara nodded, slowly starting to make her way towards the seats. you followed behind her.

sam grabbed your wrist to stop you. you couldn't do this now. you yanked your hand away, just as she did to your hand when you tried to hold hers. she looked hurt, but understanding. she expected this reaction out of you.

"not now, sam." you shook her off. "i'm not having it."

and truth was, you geniunely weren't. you didn't want to deal with apologies right now, you wanted to make sure everyone was okay.

she was at least thankful for your honestly. she sadly nodded at you and turned back to bailey. you watched her take the stage, opening the glass enclosure that held her father's attire. she gripped it tight in her hands then put it on.

you sat next to tara, grunting as your back hit the seat. tara cautiously leaned her head on your shoulder, you found that you didn't mind the contact. you were glad that she was there with you, very much alive.

"i get it now." you murmured. "well... not to your extent, obviously. but i get it now."

she looked at you, a confused look on her face.

"never gonna be okay after this." was all you could get out.

she sat upright again and turned her body to face you. "i'm so sorry." she bit down on her lip, not knowing how to reassure you.

"we'll have each other though, right?" you asked her. she nodded quickly.

"always." she grabbed your hands, holding them in hers. your eyes trickled from her to sam, she glanced over at her sister too.

"you know she didn't mean what she said." tara turned back to you as she said that. "when she left you behind outside?"

"she definitely said it with her chest, tara." you breathed out through your nose. you know sam wanted to protect everyone, but you couldn't help but feel upset that she didn't trust you enough. "even then, she was right. i'm not woodsboro, i'll never understand fully what you all went through."

"yeah, i know. but that doesn't mean that you aren't one of us." tara said. "and she knows that. you're important to her. she was doing it to protect you too."

sam was wielding her father's own blade. she looked like she was in her element, which was strange as you never saw her as a killer. even when she did have a higher kill count than most people. but you knew it was her will power to end this whole thing that was driving her.

she walked over to the middle aisle, picking up billy's mask and putting it on herself. she looked frightening under the mask. it sent a shiver through you.

sam departed from the aisle, moving back towards the stage. you spotted bailey starting to stir, you grabbed tara and ran off. you took her to the backstage area, both of you deciding that you would stick around for sam.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

she embodied ghostface well. you admired her dedication to the bit. you knew it would scare the daylight out of bailey, to have the tables turned on him this time.

you watched as bailey ridiculously fired his gun at the mannequins. you flinched at the loud noises and held onto tara as she did the same. you didn't know where sam was, you were watching from the shadows.

"stop fuckin' around and show yourself!" he growled into the phone. he was trembling, sam had him right where she wanted him.

quiet.

"i’m a fucking police officer! what are you gonna do, huh? who do you think they’re gonna believe?" he spun around, trying to keep an eye on all his blind spots.

"probably the one that's still alive."

that shook him. he threw his phone away out of frustration.

from the shadows emerged sam's silhouette. as bailey turns at the last second, sam rams the knife into him. into his shoulder, his chest, everything she could get.

she was a fucking force of nature. a powerhouse if you'd ever seen one. the legacy her father held, she rewrote it herself.

she retracted her blade and lifted the mask off her face. and she was sam again. she was panting softly, the force she used to mutilate bailey took some energy out of her.

you and tara joined her on stage just as she was about to take another hit. she paused, her gaze softening at the two of you.

you looked at her. really looked at her.

you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself but you couldn't help it.

she looked good.

"my father was a murderer." she lowered the knife. "no matter what you think. i’m better than that."

bailey thanked her for her mercy. but then she looked to tara, as did you. tara tilted her head, as if giving her permission to change her mind. and then she looked to you. you read tara's expression and knew what sam was looking for in your eyes.

you met her stare, before looking away. you gave her a single nod. and you almost missed the smug smile that was plastered across her face.

"but you did fuck with our family so..."

the detective didn't even take a breath before sam jabbed the knife into his eye socket, all the way in.

he groaned in pain, his body shaking. he tried to raise his arms to fight back but it was too late.

you had looked away in time. you still felt your stomach churn at the sight of another dead body.

you heard his blood gurgle in his mouth as he took his last breath.

"nice." tara awkwardly said, trying to break the silence.

"are you guys okay?" sam asked, starting to take off the cloak.

"hell no." tara said. sam looked over to you and you shook your head too.

tara walked back down to the steps of the stage, sitting down on it.

you were about to follow then you spotted quinn's body. you felt yourself grow increasingly repelled at the sight. you reached for the sheet that was torn down to reveal all the masks and cloaks and threw it over her. it was the last good thing you'd ever do for her.

you let sam and tara have their moment to talk. you figured that they didn't have many talks together over the past few days, always being surrounded by others.

you walked over to the gate that locked you all inside the theater, hearing footsteps outside.

just then, ethan resurfaced, screaming his lungs out at the girls. you were about to run back to them but he was quickly stopped by a tv flying at his head. you almost laughed.

"saw that in a scary movie once." kirby joked through her injuries.

"you'll have to show me that one." you joked back.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

danny came in with reinforcements shortly after.

you watched as tara and sam talked to kirby who was now lying on a stretcher. when she was wheeled into the ambulance, you rejoined them.

you and tara both had your left arms in casts.

"hehe... matching." you said, nudging her side. she appreciated the banter returning.

"we should try cooking together like this or something." tara's dimples were flashed at you as you saw her crack a smile.

"that could be really fun." you snickered.

sam approached the two of you and tara got the hint.

"i'll give you two a second." she said, walking away and towards a group of officers.

sam rubbed her hands nervously, not knowing what to say to you.

"i'm sorry for leaving you." she started off. you admit, it was a good start. it was what you wanted to hear. unfortunately, she wasn't going to get a pass.

"you broke your promise to me." you gritted your teeth at her. "you said you wouldn't leave me alone."

"i know, i know. and i regret it. so much." she bit down on her bottom lip to try and stop tears from falling.

"i opened myself up to you, sam!" you choked down your own sobs. you were so afraid that you were going to die without saying anything to her because she left you behind. "i thought we were... i thought we had something!" you prodded your pointer finger against her chest.

"we do! we do have something!" sam dropped her jacket, opting to grab your hands and hold them against her. "i never meant to make you feel like i didn't want you. i just wanted to protect everyone. i thought that by leaving you behind, you wouldn't be hurt." she shook her head. "i never meant any of that, i just knew you would be determined to join us inside. and i couldn't have you hurt."

she was so sweet sometimes, she knew exactly what to say to pull you in. you were still angry at her, but you saw where she was coming from a bit clearer now.

you scoffed in her face, rolling your eyes. "that's bullshit!" you sneered at her. "we said we'd protect each other. i would have been safest next to you. i will always be safest next to you."

"you don't know that. this could happen again." she had to be realistic about the situation no matter how devoted you were being.

"i know. and i will be right here no matter what. the least you can do is return the favor."

"okay... i'll never leave you behind ever again." sam said, kissing your knuckles.

"you can do better than that." you grumbled, not wanting to settle for just a kiss to your hands.

sam grinned at you, stepping closer and wrapping her hands around your waist. she pulled you closer and captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. she was being gentle with you, trying not to hurt you. you found it sickeningly adorable. it was a juxtaposition from the intensity you saw from her earlier. your good arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her in closer. it was your way of saying that she wasn't going to break you.

"chad!" you heard tara yell. you quickly pulled away and saw chad being wheeled out on a stretcher.

thank god.

you and sam jogged over to chad.

"how are you alive?" sam asked. he raised his hand with four fingers up. mindy quickly came running in.

"are you guys okay?! i know who the killer is! it's ethan and bailey!" she said, stopping in her tracks.

"and quinn." sam added.

"and quinn? fuck!" mindy's hands slapped against her side in frustration. "did i miss the monologue again?"

you smiled at the sight of the four of them together. mindy was mumbling incoherent words to tara and chad. you giggled softly as she exclaimed that you all made it out alive.

you turned to sam again, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"hey, you." you poked her side, trying to get her attention.

"yeah?" she asked, turning to you with a smile on her face. it was to die for.

"i'm kinda starving." you chuckled, your stomach grumbled. fighting off a masked killer was hard work.

"okay well, we can go and get something to eat at the hospital." sam suggested.

you groaned softly at her not getting the memo.

"okay. that's fair. but i'll be kinda starving in a few days too so how about we go on an actual date then?" you flashed a sheepish smile her way.

she laughed at your attempt to ask her out.

"okay sweetheart." she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"promise?"

"hell yeah."

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

authors journal OKAY I KNOW IT LOOKS LIKE THE SERIES IS DONE BUT IT ISNT I PROMISE I HAVE LIKE 3 MORE PARTS UP MY SLEEVE. anyways i am SO SORRY for how long this chapter was, bailey fucking talks so much in the movie and i was trying to keep a lot of the final fight elements in. this literally took me a full 12 hours to write. anyways, back to MY yapping this time. i figured i should probably mention that i didnt forget about the tara kiss and i will bring it back for later. its my secret mousekatool. i also wanted to talk a bit more about the title of the series. i was thinking of changing it to 'promises, promises' cause obviously thats a thing with sam and the reader but i actually got it from a song! it's this one right here.

it actually has nothing too much to do with the series itself but i love the song heaps and i think the reader would too. its about getting away from something that was ruined for you by a relationship, i think thats pretty symbolic still. i also really wanna know what side stuff you guys want! i do have a few headcanons that i wanna write up but i wanna know if there's anything specific you want like blurbs or specific headcanons. i have one for 'if the reader chose tara' coming up which is pretty fun. overall, i hope you guys have been enjoying so far and i wanna hear everythinggggg you guys have to say. whether its in comments or reblogs or my inboxes, i'm so happy to read all of it. anyways, i shall stop yapping now. much love to everyone that has supported me in this so far. xx.

[webslingingslasher]

ohhhh j new fear unlocked for everyone

yk how being on your period and leaking in someone’s bed isn’t ideal? esp if they aren’t ur bf? screw the bed - it got on HIM and he’s not my bf. he’s a cuddler in his sleep and pulled me in and I just saw🤠🤠🤠 nightmare. I’m building up the courage to wake him up rn lol. it’s not that deep but this is pretty horrific bc it’s only my second time staying over and we are very much Not Dating

*cleaning out my drafts - this is an old one!

there have been several times in your life when you've said 'this is the worst thing to ever happen to me.' today takes the cake and you'll never have the urge to say those words again.

period blood? a nuisance to deal with.

period blood on your partner? humbling.

period blood on your hookup? downright mortifying and coma inducing.

it'll only get worse the longer you wait. counting to ten, you take a deep breath and gently shake peter awake. he whines and swats you away, you feel terrible that you're about to ruin his sleep.

'peter, i got my period and i leaked.'

peter sucks in air, the words are registering and he's blinking awake while looking you over. 'in my bed?' you nod timidly, feeling awful about it.

'and on you.' it's a defeated whisper, you turn to the side so you don't see his reaction. you feel the blankets lift up, a two second pause before peter settles back into bed.

'i don't have anything to plug you up so you gotta figure it out.' you stare down at his face, he's going back to sleep?

'did you hear me? i leaked.'

peter sighs, he's more upset that you woke him up than being doused in your monthly. 'yeah, like a quarter's worth. it's a dot, trouble. wrap it up and come back to bed.'

'but i got it on you.'

peter huffs before picking his head up and opening an eye to look at you. 'what do you want me to say? do you want me to be mad? you're the only girl in my bed so if you wanna stain the sheets that's on you.'

you stop a smile from forming, 'are you suggesting i did this to mark my territory?'

'it wouldn't surprise me. it also explains the leg.' he tugs his comforter up to his chin while letting sleep coat over him. 'are you cauterized yet?'

'yeah, i stashed some stuff here.' peter searches around for your hand under the blanket by little taps. 'good, cuddle with me.' you almost squeak when he drags you into his side, always impressed by his casual strength.

'are you sure -' you're halfway through your question when peter takes initiative and hitches your knee over his hips. 'i refuse to answer stupid questions before eight am.'

'i'm sorry i stained your sheets.'

peter's dimple pops out when he smiles. 'bloody nice reminder you were here.' you poke it, he peeks an eye open and acts like he's about to bite your finger. 'you're proud of that one?'

'o-h i'm positive.' you gag before hiding in his side and groaning. 'you're not allowed to make dad jokes before eight am.'

'oh yeah? well you're not allowed to bleed... just kidding, trouble. you can expel your moon cycle anywhere you want, what's mine is yours.'

'wow. you're so romantic.'

'only for you.'

he says it like a joke but you think peter would be a whole lot less cool if it was with anyone else. 'thank you for not making me feel bad. you're kind of the best.'

'i know.' you narrow your eyes at him, as if he can sense it, peter nudges his hand under your shirt to splay his hand across your lower back. his warm palm eases tension you weren't aware of yet. 'i was about to say don't get a big head, but your hand feels very nice so i'll refrain.'

'want me to rub your tummy?' you lean forward to press your nose against his cheek. 'say tummy again. it's cute.'

'no.' 

you whine at his refusal, 'i'm shedding my uterus, be nice to me.' peter smiles at your pout. 'tummy.' hiding your face in his neck you let out a quiet squeal. 'i like when you're cringy with me, it makes me feel like you like me.'

you can see how fast his mind is working, he's hesitating on what he's about to say. peter decides to throw you a bone, you're still embarrassed from giving him a wake up call.

'my baby is feeling so icky, isn't she? her tummy and back hurts and she is being so brave.' you nod softly, he's spot on.

'so icky.'

'so brave.'

'say tummy again.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'you're on thin ice, trouble.'

'just one more time. please?' you plead with him and follow it up with a yawn, his hold and heat is making you drowsy. 'if you tell anyone that i asked to rub your tummy or that i said tummy this many times, you'll never hear me say tummy again, deal?'

your eyes seal shut, his warmth is going nowhere. 'deal.' 

[sf1enjoyer]

°The crash°

Part two of the LN series:New Start

Word count:1458 words

Summary: You meet a nasty weather at one of your races ,your car had a front wheel lock-up and that led to a horrible crash which had Lando absolutely terrified and worried for you.

LN4 fluff

@fishyfishersticks

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

It was now your second season. The team was proud of you, you were. Performing well and even had a few podiums. In the middle of the 2024 season came your first win and you realized how much you wanted that to happen again. To feel like a winner more often, and later your goal was to become a world champion. The goal has always been that but now..you were more determined and more excited to reach it knowing that you are capable of winning. Everything was perfect...Until it was not. People may think that it's normal to have big dreams and want them even more in your rookie era when you're still hungry for improvement and never pleased with something that was less than a podium. At least that's how you were like. Big mistake. Always pushed yourself to the limit and because you were new you didn't know when to stop. It was raining during the Belgian Grand Prix and it was your first race in such horrible weather. You were currently during the 26th lap of the race. You were wheel-to-wheel with your teammate Lando. He did have a faster pace so he was going to overtake you eventually. You defended the position with everything you had and paying more attention to him breathing down your neck, rather than your driving and where you were going was a big mistake. You rode the kerb making you lose control of the car and what was the cherry on top? Your front left wheel had a lock-up. You could barely turn and Lando couldn't avoid you either since he had another car on the outside. Worst crash of your life. You went flying and rolling into the barrier, your car looking like scrap metal and Lando with just the front wing being completely destroyed landed out of the track, near you. He got out of the car but you didn't.

What was taking you so long? He came to check up on you, talking to you, bumping your visor slightly but it was worthless. You didn't move. He got you out of the car with a panicked expression on his face and hands trembling, pulled you away from it and took your helmet off checking for signs that you were alive. The medical team quickly arrived, made sure Lando wasn't injured and quickly got you into the ambulance. Lando didn't know what happened for sure but he knew it was bad

During the post-race interview, Lando asked about you

"Y/N's crash was pretty bad. We were told she had a concussion and that she's still asleep"

Lando thanked the interviewer and bit his lip nervously. He felt guilty. Felt that if he avoided you the crash wouldn't have been that bad and that you would've been okay. His mind just replaying that scene over and over again...

After the interviews celebrations and the rest, he got showered, dressed and made his way to the hospital you were taken to. Mind blank and heart racing he waited to be given permission to visit you. He saw you still weren't awake and he hopes you'll be tomorrow.

"She's fine.. she's just resting. Tomorrow she'll wake up.."

Wrong. Every word he said. It was wrong. And later the doctors told him you were in a coma. Didn't know for how long but all Lando did when he heard the word coma was just freeze. A million thoughts were going through his brain and they were all blaming him.

A few weeks passed, then about two months which honestly felt like years for Lando. Coming to visit you whenever he could. Bringing you flowers and small gifts you'd see when you'd wake up. There were gifts from your friends as well and plenty of missed calls from your family.

You finally woke up. Your head buzzed a bit and you felt confused. What happened? Why were you there?

That didn't last for long because then it clicked. The crash, the sound of the ambulance and then..silence.

You saw all the flowers, some were already dead but the gesture was nice and it made you smile. Soon enough a nurse announced you woke up. You felt weak, your muscles were sore but it was normal after rotting in a bed for god knows how long. You pick up your phone, see all the missed calls and call everyone back to let them know that you're well and that you're finally awake. As soon as Lando got the news, he booked a flight to come see you.

You were drinking water when someone rushed in and over to you, hugging you tightly

"Hey, easy mate... it's good to see you as well Lan.."

"God I started to believe you weren't going to wake up. I'm so glad you're okay. It was all my fault I am so sorry Y/N"

The fact that Lando blamed himself made your heart sink. You were well aware none of what happened was on Lando and you tried to reassure him.

"Hey,Lan it wasn't your fault. It was raining, I got reckless and I should've been paying attention. Plus I had a front wheel lock-up so it's stupid of you to say that."

His eyes told you a lot. They seemed tired and slightly red. And god..you could tell he was on the verge of tears

"Lando it's okay don't cry mate. None of that is on you. Don't blame yourself"

You hugged him for a while and played with his hair gently. In that moment it just felt natural and you wanted to comfort him because he was your friend after all

It wasn't long before you started driving again and it felt good to be back home. You worked hard and got stronger physically and mentally which paid off. More podiums were coming your way and a few wins as well. Things were working out for you but you couldn't say the same about your teammate. His racing wasn't that bold anymore and he gave up fights so easily. Where was the guy who took risks, trying to win no matter what? He no longer had that fire..that ambition. He almost seemed frozen and afraid.

You decided to confront him about it because no driver in their right mind with the ambition of becoming a world champion would just give up their driving skills like that.

You knock on his driver's room and he replies with a shot "Come in."

You slowly open the door and peek your head inside "Lan, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure."

You fully step into the room and close the door, crossing your arms in front of your chest and confront him

"What's up with you?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

You roll your eyes and walk towards him

"You don't seem to be. Something pressuring you. a You're not the same Lando I knew three months ago, the old Lando clearly didn't give up positions that easily even if he wasn't top three"

"What's a position worth fighting for if it's not a podium, hm? And taking risks isn't all that."

"Taking risks is what makes you a world champion. Lando, what's with this tragic change so suddenly? Talk to me. You're my friend as much as you're my teammate"

He sighs and rubs his face, sitting down and then looking up at you

"Since your accident. I blame myself because if I had been more careful you wouldn't have been in a coma because the accident would've been worse Y/N."

You grab a chair and sit in front of him

"Lando you don't know for sure if it would've been better and it's not your fault. You had no fucking space mate. You didn't have where to go and even if you braked the same thing would've happened because you didn't have time to brake. Stop blaming yourself. This incident only holds you back. I am over it, everyone is over it and you should get over it as well. If you want to win you have to move on."

Lando just looks down, contemplating your words but not saying anything

"You know what you're capable of and right now you're the only one holding yourself back from progressing."

You stand up to leave and when you get at the door you said a few last words before exiting.

"I hope you take my advice."

And to your surprise he did. You're happy you were able to make him realize that it wasn't his fault but knowing him you knew he was still guilty but he just locked that thought away, not so deep, into his brain. And of course, something had to go wrong.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Sending my request once again! (I think, don't rlly remember 😰) Full hc about the M6 with a MC in a coma?

The Arcana HCs: When MC falls into a coma

~ don't know if this is what you were going for but it turned into a sleeping beauty situation XD hope you enjoy! - brainrot ~

-- to set the scene --

It was an overcast day. The air had been unusually still ever since your lover had stepped out after breakfast to start their day, and you'd found your own set of tasks to be oddly uneventful ... and lonely. It's why, when an elderly grandfather hobbles by and offers you a warm bread roll, you don't hesitate to take a bite as soon as you've waved goodbye. You don't take a second.

Julian

He's had a long day at the clinic, and as short as his commute is, he still feels like he's been a hundred miles away from you as he heads over after sunset. He's missed you all day

He's sure he forgets how to breathe when he walks in to see you collapsed on the floor. He knows what corpses look like, he can tell you aren't dead, but that's little comfort when you don't wake up

Carrying you to bed and working feverishly to narrow down all the possibilities. You're not injured, you're not sick, your vitals seem to fine, but ... you don't wake up. Even smelling salts don't do it

Spends the next three days refusing to leave your side except to fetch more help or resources. The whole community helps him

Mazelinka brings soup, Portia and Nadia stop by with some rare medicines, Asra pops in at all odd hours with new spells to try, and even Barth sends a hot meal or two over from the Rowdy Raven

Julian doesn't leave until he gets a call in the middle of the night. A nearby neighbor has gone into labor, and needs attention until the midwife can arrive from across town

He kisses your hand goodbye on his way out and is too busy hustling out the door to hear you stir. His shout when he gets home several hours later to see you reading wakes half the city

Asra

They'd spent the morning out running errands and the afternoon catching up with their parents. It's been busy and interesting and they're excited to show you what they got you in the market

Except all of that goes tumbling out of his grasp when he walks in to find you collapsed behind the counter, unresponsive

Somehow they manage to get you upstairs and in bed through the daze, and then they get ready to work through the night

He does notice the partially-eaten bread roll and can tell there's some sort of powerful magic in it, but unraveling what it is proves harder than he expects. The next 24 hours blur by in a haze

At some point, Faust goes off to find Chimes and Flamel and Aisha and Salim appear at the back door to help out. When they see Asra's state, they urge them to get some rest while they take over

He makes up a layer of blankets on the floor next to you to sleep, not wanting to disturb your condition, but it feels wrong to close his eyes without the usual goodnight kiss (at 5 PM)

They lean over to press a gentle peck between your eyebrows, and the sight of you beginning to twitch awake makes them freeze in place. It might be too good to be true

And that's how you wake up, to an exhausted Asra collapsing onto your chest

Nadia

Horrified. She's already blaming herself for being too busy to check in on you earlier, you seemed fine this morning, but here you are in one of the entrance's side rooms collapsed since goodness knows

A quick check with the guards confirms they saw you speaking with a stooped old man at the gates just that afternoon - and the roll they saw him give to you is next to you on the floor

To say that she distracts herself from her pain by leaving you to the healthcare professionals and trying to make up for her negligence by hunting down your poisoner would be an understatement

She's a woman on a mission. She'll leave Chandra in your chambers to bring her any updates and start her investigation immediately

Can't really bring herself to be with you for too long when she believes it's her fault. It's two weeks before she sits down next to you to see how you're doing, after doctors suggested she talk

It's hard. She takes your hand in hers and stares at your motionless face, and all she's able to do is tell you everything she's done so far to find the old man as though it'll earn her your presence again

Only after that, as the sun starts to set and she runs out of things to say, does she lean down whisper her love into your ear and press a kiss to your cheek. The surprised "eep!" when you wake up is priceless

Muriel

Panics as soon as gets in, because his mind is already jumping to the worst possible conclusions about what he's seeing

Are you dead? Are you hurt? Were you attacked? Did a rogue wild animal make its way in and maul you? Did Lucio come back? Did the Devil come back? He should've kept you safe -

It's Inanna's insistent whining and nudging that gets him to carry you to the bed from where he's gathered you up. It's hard to check for your pulse when his hand won't stop shaking

Whatever's going on, it doesn't take long for him to realize that you're okay. You're okay, you're just ... asleep. And not waking up

He'll try taking a nap on the floor next to you until you do

It's as the next day drags on that he starts to worry that you might not be getting enough food or water. He still doesn't know if this warrants calling Julian (he'd rather not) but you need hydration

Thankfully he's kissed you plenty of times before, so it's not too nerve-wracking a task for him to take a sip of fresh spring water before pressing his mouth to yours and trying to help you drink

You didn't expect to wake up like this

Normally Muriel would be a little more grossed out about having water coughed all over his face, but he's too happy to care

Portia

If she walks into a room and sees you collapsed, she's screaming

She's screaming loud enough to be heard from the Palace, and then she's rushing towards and nearly sobbing in relief when your skin is warm and your chest is still moving steadily up and down

She doesn't know why you collapsed or what's wrong with you (if it's something she can't see, then she doesn't want to mess it up) so she avoids moving you until she has someone around to help

Ilya. She needs Ilya, and Mazelinka, and Nadia, and Asra too, and maybe all the names ending in "a"s if it'll help her figure out how to help you any sooner. She'll get you through this. It'll be okay

Between Nadia spotting the bread roll, Julian confirming that there isn't an obvious medical reason, and Asra and Mazelinka's combined magical food knowledge, it's obvious what happened

The delightful thing about a woman like Portia is that she doesn't like stopping to be sad when she knows there's still hope to work towards. Nobody knows the spell? Trial and error!

"True love's kiss" is the third thing on the list after failing to enter your dreams and dripping soup into your mouth. Waking up to Portia smugly telling her older brother that all those "fairy tales" were onto something after all is an unforgettable experience

Lucio

All he knows is that one moment, he was triumphantly announcing his return and very pleased with himself about completing a shopping trip that involved only wise spending choices

And the next moment, every wise spending choice was clattering to the floor because you weren't moving

He's been on enough battlefields to know the difference between wounded and dead, but you don't seem to be either

The worst part is, you're not waking up. No matter what he does, you don't wake up. He's seen this before - he remembers watching as a vengeful ghost as his ex-wife lay motionless for three years

Is that how long this is going to take? Three years? He's not worried about his loyalty, he'll find a place that'll take care of you while he picks up whatever jobs he needs to keep you afloat, but

What if he makes another "oopsie" and you're not there to help?

It all overwhelms him to the point that he lays his head down on your stomach to have a little moment to himself, and he turns his face against your shirt to catch any ... eye water

Apparently mouthing "I love you" against your belly button counts, because the next thing he knows you're lifting your head and asking what's wrong. He's not touching a bread roll again

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Nine

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Bob have a heart-to-heart after his accident

WC: 1.7K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were officially in your second trimester. Twelve weeks. 

You stood in the mirror, holding your hands against your lower stomach. There was a definitive bulge. More than gas or constipation or a food baby. 

A real baby. 

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice floated through the apartment. “I’m home.” 

“One sec,” you called out, pulling your loose shirt back down. You didn’t want him to see it. Even though the secret was out, you still felt like it was just for you to know it was there. In the kitchen, Jake set down a pizza and a bag of groceries. 

“I got dinner.” 

“I’m starving,” you replied, sitting down on a chair at the table and flinging the box open. “Hell yes.” 

He chuckled, leaning back against the cabinets, green eyes watching you greedily as you pulled a cheesy slice out, savoring it on your tongue. “That baby is going to be thirty pounds and twenty of it is going to be cheese.” 

“Shut up,” you replied between mouthfuls. “It’s your fault if they’re enormous. Isn’t that the man’s genes or something?” 

“I see you’re reading the pregnancy books.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Like you are.” 

“Actually, I am.” You looked up, squinting. Jake shrugged. “What? Not much to do during training when we’re waiting for a group to do their test flight.” 

“So you’re telling me Mr. Pilot sits around and reads What To Expect When You’re Expecting between top secret dangerous missions?” 

Jake took a seat across the table and yanked on a slice of pizza. “Pretty much.” 

“You’re not what I expected,” you replied sincerely. 

His eyes landed on yours. “You’re better than I expected.” 

A silence enveloped the room. “Jake—”

Your cell phone buzzed on the table. 

“Hello?” You listened intently for a moment, eyes widening. Jake’s gaze never left yours. “Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the phone away. 

“What is it?” he asked. “Y/N? Is everything OK?” 

“It’s Bob,” you murmured. “He’s awake.” 

***

Anxiety — heavy and damp — sat in your chest, curled around your stomach, clenching your insides. You took a deep, quivering breath, and pushed the door open. 

Bobby looked up, squinting from behind his large frames. He looked thinner, the effects of being in a coma for almost five days. 

Quietly, you stepped closer. “Hi.” 

“Hi Ducky.” 

You choked back a sob. “How are you?” 

“Terrible,” he replied and you frowned, looking over at the monitors. But nothing was beeping or going insane. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Bob shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. I just messed up.” 

“Phoenix said there was nothing that could have been done differently. That there wasn’t even time to think.” 

He shook his head and grimaced. “Not about that. I don’t care about that. I messed up with you. With us.” 

“Oh.” Your voice trembled. “Bobby, I—”

“I love you, Ducky,” he said and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. “And I fucked it all up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s OK.” 

“It’s not,” Bob said. There was an exhaustion in his voice. “You needed me. And I did the opposite of what I should have. I spent my whole life trying to be a good brother. And the second you really, truly needed me, I pushed you away.” 

“You were mad at me,” you whispered. “I messed up everything you did to get me where I was supposed to go. I get it.” 

Bob shook his head. “It’s not my job to tell you what to do with your life, Y/N.”

“You’re just realizing that?” 

He smiled softly. “I’m a little behind.” Bob paused. “Will you forgive me?” 

“Always.” 

Bob reached out a hand and you took it. How many times had you held Bob’s hand in yours? You could count very few times when you were the one taking care of him. You reached down and pulled the hem of your shirt up, exposing your bare stomach. Bob’s eyes went wide as you pressed his flat palm against your warm skin. He could feel the raised curve of your expanding belly. 

“Promise me something, Bobby,” you whispered. He nodded. “You don’t leave us again.” 

Tears flooded his eyes and you pressed down against his hand, the two of you covering the bump with your intertwined fingertips as he sobbed. After a moment, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Bob’s fingers gripped you, hard, holding you so tight you thought he might never let you go. “I promise, Ducky,” he whispered into your ear. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Bobby.” 

***

You had an armful of books, leaning against the front door trying to undo the lock when it swung open unexpectedly and you tumbled inside. A pair of warm arms caught you midair. “Woah!” 

Jake pushed you to an upright position, one of his hands resting on your low back, the other pressed against your arm. “What are you doing carrying all of those?” he demanded, taking the books out of your hands and putting them down on the table. 

You rolled your eyes. “I work at a library, Jake. Don’t you think I carry around books all day?” 

“Guess I never thought about it,” he said. “But I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to pretend to be worried about me,” you huffed. 

“Who said I’m pretending?” 

The air in the room froze. You looked up at Jake. He had obviously gotten home only minutes before you because he was still wearing his flight suit, hair tousled and sweaty, some pieces matted to his forehead. It was unfair how good he looked when you were wearing practically a potato sack, the only thing that didn’t tug against your expanding stomach. You shook your head and put your tote bag down on the ground, whirling around to face him. “I think there’s some stuff we didn’t talk about when we moved in because of everything that was going on. So maybe we need to have that conversation.” 

Jake nodded and you two took a seat on the couch. God, the cushions felt good against your screaming back. How the hell you were going to do six more months of this you weren’t sure. “Alright, darlin’, I’m listening.” 

“That,” you said, raising a finger and he frowned. “Cute pet names.” 

“I can’t call you pet names?” 

“We’re roommates, Jake. Nothing more.” 

“You’re carrying my child.” His voice tipped as he said that last word. “You’re more than a roommate and we both know it.” 

“I’m just a girl who lives in the guest room,” you whispered. 

“Is that what you want?” 

You nodded. “I want you to live your life like you would normally. Date, even.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to date?” 

“Sure.” 

Jake squinted. “Are you going to date?” 

“Nobody wants me,” you replied and his face fell. “A pregnant twenty-three-year-old? Yeah, no, not the hottest commodity on the market.” 

“But if someone asked you?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” 

Jake’s green eyes, normally so luminous, darkened. He nodded tightly. “Got it.” 

“You should feel free to date whoever you want,” you replied. “Phoenix, maybe.” 

“Nat? Seriously?” 

“Don’t act like you haven’t been there done that.” 

His eyebrows shot up. “She told you?” 

“Yup. Really get around, don’t you?” 

“Could say the same about you.” He looked up as the realization of what he had said crossed his mind. For a moment, the room was silent. Then you laughed, and so did Jake. 

“Fuck you,” you said, chuckling. “You’re a dick.” 

“It’s my unique draw.” 

“Well your pregnant roommate isn’t going to be much of a chick magnet,” you replied, standing up. “So I would go to the girl’s house, if given the option. I’ll do the same.” 

“Are you really going to fuck random guys?” Jake asked as you made your way toward the hallway and bedroom.

You turned. “I fucked you, didn’t I?” 

***

“Be careful you idiot!” 

Bob shot you a dirty look. “Aren’t moms supposed to be nice?” 

“Not a mom yet,” you replied, hands resting on your stomach for a moment before you slapped a hot cheeto out of his hand. “Doctor said whole foods.” 

He groaned. “Can I have Hangman stay with me instead? He might actually be a better alternative.” 

“You’re stuck with me for another day,” you said, leaning back onto the couch. Bob sat in a reclining chair across from you. 

“Ducky?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You scared?” 

“Terrified.” 

“I don’t know what’s crazier. That my little sister is going to be someone’s mom. Or that I’m going to be Uncle Bobby.” 

“Uncle Bobby,” you repeated. It sounded strangely familiar on your tongue. “It fits though.” 

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asked. 

You frowned. “Think this was the longest I’ve ever stayed mad at you in my life. Except maybe the time you donated my pony collection.” 

“I couldn’t have a horse girl for a sister,” he replied. “Besides, you were fifteen.” 

“Was not!” 

“Yes you were, because it was the same year I punched Mike Turner for kissing you on the front porch.” 

“God, that feels like ages ago.” 

“You were just a kid,” Bob replied softly. “You’re still a kid to me.” 

“I’m an adult, Bobby,” you whispered. “More adult than you.” 

“Hey!” 

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” 

Bob blushed. “No time, Ducky.”

“I’ve heard stories from the team.” You raised your eyebrow. “Apparently you’re a hot commodity at the bar.” 

“Don’t listen to anything Bradshaw says.” 

“Jake said it, too.”

“Really don’t listen to anything Hangman says.” 

“Are you happy, Bobby?” 

He frowned. “Does being in a relationship automatically make you happy?” 

“No,” you sighed. “But it’s better than being alone.” 

“You’re not alone, Ducky,” Bob said quietly. “You have me. And Jake, unfortunately.” 

You leaned back against the couch. “Yeah. I have you. And Jake.” 

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[newtthetranswriter]

Hi could I get a natsu x reader where before Lucy joined the guild natau and the reader go on a mission together but goes horribly wrong which causes the reader to go in a coma and doesn't wake up when Lucy joins and when the reader wakes up she looses her memories so natsu does everything to get them back for her making him feel guilty

Burning Memories

Word count: 3198

Paring: Natsu x fem reader

Warnings: Amnesia, possibly ooc Natsu, the timeline may be wonky but hey whatever, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hello, thank you so much for the request. Sorry it took a while but I’m happy with how it turned out. The ending isn’t perfect but if anyone is interested I’d be willing to make a part two. Anyways I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   He had no idea what went wrong. It was supposed to be an easy mission, kill the monster and collect the reward. That’s it, they had done this kind of job hundreds of times so how did it go so wrong. Watching the beast slam Y/n into the wall behind him scared him. Not because he feared for his own safety, but because why wasn’t she moving. That was the only thought going through the Salamander’s mind.

   After barely managing to distract the monster, he grabbed Y/n and ran. Natsu’s only priority was getting Y/n back to Fairy Tail and getting her help. As he rushed back to the guild hall with his unconscious partner, he couldn’t help but thank whatever higher power that their job wasn’t far from Magnolia. After all he wouldn’t trust just some random person to take care of Y/n.

   When he arrived at the guild hall, he was greeted at first with the normal ruckus of the Guild. But as soon as they noticed the wizard in his arms and the panicked look on his face, every one went silent. Makarov acted first, instructing Mirajane to lead Natsu to the infirmary and ordering for Gray to fetch Porlyusica. Once Natsu had laid Y/n in one of the beds he refused to move until he knew how Y/n was doing. It took Gray and Elfman to pull him out of the room so Porlyusica could check on her.

   The wait for news was stressful to say the least. If anyone walked into the guild hall at that time they would see two things. First being that the entire guild was silent, and second being Natsu knocked out and trapped by one of Freed’s enchantments. It was the best bet for everyone to knock him out because while he was awake he wouldn’t stop trying to get back to the infirmary.

  After what felt like hours Makarov and Porlyusica exited the room. As if sensing a change in the room Natsu shot up slamming into the invisible wall around him. “How is she? Is she ok? Let me outta this thing.” He was frantic as he tried to get out and to his friend.

  “You’re not leaving that enchantment until you calm down. As for Y/n, all we can do is wait. She’s still unconscious and we are unsure when she’ll wake up.” Makarov said, silencing the fire wizard. Everyone else in the Guild was silent taking in the information, one of their own was hurt and there’s nothing else they could do. Eventually Porlyusica left the hall, leaving the Fairies to worry by themselves.

   After about a month there was no sign of improvement in Y/n’s condition. She still laid in the infirmary bed unmoving. Natsu had spent nearly every day sitting by her bed telling her about everything that has been happening in the Guild. And not that he would admit it but when it got late and Happy would fall asleep on the unconscious girl’s chest, Natsu would beg for her to just wake up so he could apologize for letting her get hurt.

   It had been another two months with no sign of improvement in Y/n’s condition, and Natsu hadn’t gone on a job since the incident, wanting to be there when she woke up. But eventually a rumor reached the guild hall of a so-called Salamander in the port town of Hargeon. After much convincing from Happy and Mirajane, Natsu finally left the guild hall. If there was no sign of Y/n waking soon he might as well see if this Salamander was Igneel.

   Time skip

    Now four months after the tragic incident, there was still no sign of improvement. Even though she had long since healed from the injuries, Y/n was still in a coma. And while the entire guild was worried about her they all continued to go about their lives. Natsu even somewhat returned to his normal self. Fighting with Gray over random things and going on jobs with Happy and Lucy. Even if he began to settle back into things, he couldn’t shake the guilt he felt over his comatose friend.

    Not wanting her to think he forgot about her, Natsu would take one day after each job where he would sit with her and just tell her about how things had been going. He knew she likely couldn’t hear him but it gave him a sense of peace to talk with her again. There was also a small piece of him that hoped talking with her would help her wake up sooner. And that’s how life went for the dragon slayer, for some time. Go on jobs with Lucy and then return to the guild hall to update Y/n about how the job had gone.

    Time skip

     After taking an S-Class job without permission, being nearly killed by Erza for taking said mission, and finally completing the job; all Natsu wanted to do was get back to the guild and update Y/n on how he completed an S-class job. But what he was not expecting was to enter the guild hall and be faced with the clearly wide awake Y/n speaking with Mirajane. He was rendered speechless as he took in the sight. His best friend who had been unconscious for months was up and walking around like nothing happened.

    “Hey Flamebrain, are you going to actually go in or are you just going to block the door?” Gray asked, trying to get Natsu to step into the guild hall instead of standing frozen in his spot.

    Natsu didn’t respond, he just kept his eyes focused on Y/n’s smiling face. So many emotions were running wild in his mind, not knowing how to respond to this new development. The group behind him, looked around the frozen mage three of them being just as stunned by the sight and the fourth being slightly confused.

    “Who’s that talking with Mira? And why do you guys look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Lucy asked not having seen Y/n before now.

     “It’s Y/n.” Was the only response she got from Natsu before he moved across the hall.

     The blonde took a moment to process what he said before realization struck her. “Wait, that's Y/n. But I thought she’s been in a coma since before I joined the guild?” She asked turning to the Ice wizard next to her.

     “She was, but I guess she woke up while we were gone.” Gray answered, also moving to greet his friend. Erza and Happy also followed, excited to check on their friend.

     As the group arrived next to Y/n and Mira, Natsu was once again at a loss for words. Unsure of how to speak to Y/n after spending so long talking and not receiving any response. When he finally settled on what to say, He was cut off.

   “Gray, Erza it’s great to see you guys. I’m sorry to have worried you guys for so long.” Y/n said smiling at the two wizards, completely ignoring the pink haired man beside them. “How did your mission go?” She asked.

    The small group all shared a slightly concerned look, because prior to the incident, if Natsu had gone on a job without her, Y/n would immediately demand an update on how it went. But now, she showed no sign of interest in Natsu, not even looking in his direction. “It went pretty well, if it wasn’t for the hot head over here though I might have died.” Gray said, taking notice of the clear confusion on her face when he pointed to said hot head. “Anyway, how are you doing? When did you wake up?” He asked.

    Y/n shook off the confusion, before smiling back at Gray. “Oh, I’m good. I woke up yesterday. Again I’m sorry for causing so much trouble, you all must have been super worried.” She said, glancing to the side at the somewhat familiar stranger next to her. “It also looks like we got a few new guild members. Hi, I’m Y/n it’s nice to meet you both.” Y/n turned to where Natsu and Lucy were standing holding out her hand for them to shake.

    That one interaction caused Natsu to finally break. “What do you mean ‘nice to meet you’ ? You've known me for years. We’ve been partners for years. Hell, I sat with you almost everyday while you were in your coma.” Natsu said his anger was bubbling up. He didn’t mean to sound upset or rude, he was just confused. Had Y/n really forgotten the last five years of her life? No that wasn’t it, she was talking with Gray and Erza like she normally would.

     “I’m sorry Natsu, I should have had someone meet you at the door and worn you. For some reason it seems that Y/n has forgotten some things.” Mirajane said, taking notice of the troubled look that was now present on Y/n’s face.

     Mira’s words however did nothing to calm Natsu, if anything it made things worse. “What do you mean ‘some things’? She clearly remembers all of you. It’s clear that I’m the only one she forgot.” He snapped, causing the whole guild hall to fall silent.

     “Hey calm down Natsu, I’m sure she’ll remember you soon. She was in a coma for almost five months, you have to give her time to readjust.” Gray said, placing a hand on Natsu’s shoulder hoping to calm him down.

     Natsu just scoffed, shrugging the wizards hand off of him. “Easy enough for you to say. Y/n remembers you.” He said turning away from the group. “Whatever, I’m going for a walk. Are you Happy?” He asked the cat as he began to make his way out of the guild hall, through the back doors. 

    The blue cat looked at his friends who were slightly shocked from the wizard’s outburst. “I’ll try to talk to him. It’s good to see you awake Y/n.” Happy said before conjuring his wings and flying after his friend. “Wait for me Natsu.”

     After the door closed behind the two, all eyes were on Y/n. “Hey are you alright?” Gray asked, noticing that the girl was holding back tears. 

     Y/n just shook her head. She had no idea what just happened, but seeing the pink haired wizard upset and storming out of the guild hall because of her made her heart hurt for some reason.

    “You really don’t remember Natsu, do you?” Erza asked, concerned for both her friends.

    Processing the question, Y/n tried to dig up any memories of the fire dragon slayer, but came up blank. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know who he is.” She said shaking her head, trying to pull up the missing memories was really irritating her. “Really, I’m sorry. I want to remember him. I never want to hurt my friends in any way, but I just don’t know who that is.”

    The group was silent and eventually the rest of the guild went back to their regular conversations. After thinking for a moment, Lucy got an idea. “Wait, you remember Happy don’t you?” Lucy asked, receiving a nod paired with a confused look. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Lucy, a celestial wizard, and don’t worry about having forgotten me, I joined while you were in your coma. But anyway, if you remember Happy then you should have memories of Natsu. Afterall, they never really leave each other’s side.” Lucy explained her idea after introducing herself.

   Y/n thought for a moment trying to remember anything that had to do with Happy. Of course she remembered the blue cat who could fly and talk, but even looking back she couldn’t remember the pink haired wizard. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I can remember Happy clearly, but I still have no idea who this Natsu is.” She said, holding on to her hair in frustration.

   “Hey it’s okay, you went through a lot. Just relax, I'm sure the memories will come back with time.” Erza said, resting a hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “For now we just have to be patient and try to jog your memory somehow.”

   Y/n just nodded. “I should go talk to him though. He’s upset with me and I don’t know why but it hurts to know that I caused his pain.” She said looking at the requip wizard. “Do any of you know where he may have gone?” She asked, looking at her friends.

   “I don’t know if that’s a good Idea Y/n. Natsu’s a hot head, and he seemed really upset. Maybe you should give him some time.” Gray said, hoping to persuade Y/n to not go after the mage. Seeing the look of desperation on her face, Gray sighed. “Fine, He’s probably sitting at the beach behind the guild hall.” He pointed towards the back of the hall.

   She nodded in thanks before running out of the hall. Y/n may not remember Natsu but she felt the need to make sure he was okay. Once outside she looked to the shower line, seeing the pink haired wizard sitting with his knees to his chest. Next to him sat Happy who looked to be trying to cheer him up.

   “What do you want? It’s not like you know me, so why are you out here?” Natsu spat, not even turning around.

   Resisting the urge to turn around and leave, Y/n just walked closer and sat beside him. “I just wanted to make sure you are okay. Even if I don’t know you, my emotions are responding to yours.” She said, hoping to get him to open up.

   He just turned to look at Happy who sat on his opposite side. “Yeah right, Erza or Gray probably sent you to try and get me to calm down.” He was being defensive. Natsu wanted to believe Y/n so badly but he couldn’t get his hopes up. 

   “That’s not true. I came out here because seeing you so upset because of me hurt. It felt like my heart was going to break if I didn’t come check on you. My mind doesn’t know you but my body does. Please just talk to me. I want to know why I feel this way.” Y/n practically begged the Dragon slayer to listen. She didn’t know why she was so desperate for him to talk with her, but she couldn’t ignore the feeling.

   Natsu sighed before looking out at the water in front of them. “We’ve been best friends since you joined Fairy Tail five years ago. It was alway me, you and happy going on jobs and kicking ass.” Natsu began explaining. Y/n just listened hoping that something he said would trigger a memory. “You even helped me kick Gray’s ass a few times. On long train rides you’d do anything to keep my mind off my motion sickness. If you were having a bad day, I was the first to know. Everything was great until five months ago.” He reminisced, looking over hoping something clicked for Y/n.

  “When I got put in a coma?” Y/n asked, earning a sad nod from her companion. “I remember going on a job that was supposed to just be taking out a monster that was causing trouble in the forest, but something went wrong. Next thing I knew I was in the guild hall being told it’s been five months.” She explained what she remembered, curious what Natsu had to do with it. “But I thought it was a solo job?”

   Natsu shook his head. “You’re right about the monster in the woods causing trouble, but it wasn’t a solo job. We took the job because it was routine for us, track down the beast, roast it, and collect our pay. But apparently the job request got put on the wrong board.” He explained looking back at the water. “It was supposed to have gone up on the S-Class board, but was put on the regular one by mistake. Anyway, we went out looking for it and quickly found it in a cave. It was going fine until I looked to make sure Happy was ok and the beast grabbed you.” He was gritting his teeth at the memory. “By the time I heard your scream, you had been throwing into the wall. I acted as fast as I could distracting the beast, before grabbing your limp body and running as fast as I could to the guild hall for help.'' By the time Natsu finished retelling what was surely one of the worst days of his life he was holding back tears.

   Y/n sat stunned hearing the whole story of what had happened that day. “Wow, I’m so sorry. If I was stronger than I wouldn’t have gotten hurt like that and I would still know who you are.” Y/n said playing with the sand beneath her feet.

   “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault. If anything it’s mine for not realizing that the reward on the job was too much for a regular request. It’s my fault for not keeping an eye on you. It’s my fault for not being strong enough to protect you.” Natsu said, each sentence conveying more of his guilt. “I’m sorry, Y/n because I was weak, you got hurt and lost five months of time. If anything, you forgetting me is like my punishment for failing as a friend.” He finished, his tears that he was holding back now freely falling down his face.

    As Natsu buried his face in his scarf, Y/n was at a loss. “It’s not your fault. I may not remember exactly what happened but you can’t take the blame. And you can’t possibly think me forgetting you is just punishment for you. It’s hell finding out that there’s this person who I apparently spent so much of my life with that I no longer remember. I want to remember you, every fiber of my being is begging me to recognise you, but nothing comes up.” Y/n said, letting her tears fall. “If we truly are as close as you say we are, please help remember you, Natsu.” She asked, looking him in the eyes when he turned to face her.

   Coming to a decision, Natsu quickly jumped to his feet. “Right, I can help you get your memories back. It’s my fault you lost them therefore it’s my responsibility to help you get them back.” He said proudly looking at Y/n, offering a hand to help her up.

    “How do you plan to do that Natsu?” Happy asked, flying to be eye level with the two humans.

    Natsu thought for a moment before responding. “I’m not entirely sure, but I won’t give up until Y/n remembers everything.” He said, earning a sigh from his cat and a chuckle from his friend.

    It was true, none of them knew how to bring back Y/n’s memories, but Natsu was not going to give up. He would spend the rest of his life trying to help Y/n get her memories back, and if that didn’t work he would just make new ones with her.

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts XV

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

In the aftermath of Valaena's recovery, Aemond struggles to deal with his guilt.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Guilt, Reluctance, Mental Anguish, Aegon Being A Menace, Arguing, Confessions, Smut, Referenced Sex.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 5000

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

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Aemond stood in the shadowed corner of his chambers, his gaze fixed on Valaena as she lay resting on the bed.

Rhaenyra sat beside her daughter, their hands clasped together, murmuring soft words that Aemond couldn’t quite make out.

On the opposite side, Daemon hovered, his usual air of detachment softening as he studied his stepdaughter, his relief barely hidden in his guarded expression.

But Aemond’s patience was fraying. He wanted them gone, all of them.

Valaena was his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he had almost lost.

He understood that her family would come rushing to her side upon learning she’d woken from the coma, but he resented their presence all the same.

They crowded around her, taking up the space and attention he desperately wanted for himself.

Each moment they spent at her bedside only deepened the ache in his chest, the ache to be close to her, to breathe in her scent and feel her warmth against him as if to reassure himself that she was really here.

He needed her. He needed to hold her without an audience, without Rhaenyra and Daemon hovering protectively, and without her bastard brothers who had previously descended upon her like dogs.

Every inch of him was screaming for them to leave so that he could wrap her in his arms and feel her breathing, feel her fingers running through his hair like she used to.

He needed to know she was real, that she had returned to him, whole and alive.

Aemond’s hands twitched restlessly at his sides, his jaw clenched tight. He told himself to wait a few moments longer, to let them have their time with her.

He tried to be respectful, patient—but he felt like he was about to shatter from the weight of restraint.

Finally, he cleared his throat, unable to keep silent any longer.

His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. “Rhaenyra,” he said, his tone steady but leaving little room for argument. “I-I know you’ve missed her. We all have. But-she needs her rest.”

Rhaenyra clutched her daughter’s tightly, as though afraid to let go even now.

Her eyes were damp, her fingers gently brushing over Valaena’s pale cheek, as if grounding herself in the reality that her daughter was here—alive, and awake.

She hesitated, her grip tightening, reluctant to let even a moment slip by without Valaena in her grasp.

But Daemon, standing nearby, sensed the moment’s weight and Aemond’s silent plea from across the room.

He understood the intensity of that need, the desperation to hold the one he’d nearly lost.

For the briefest of seconds, Daemon imagined what it would be like, never seeing Rhaenyra again, hearing her voice or feeling her presence close to him and the mere thought nearly destroyed him.

Softly, he placed a steadying hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder, pulling her gently from the edge of the bed.

"Let him be with her now," Daemon said quietly, his voice a rare blend of gentleness and understanding.

Rhaenyra’s gaze darted to Daemon, reluctant but recognizing the truth in his words.

She glanced back at Aemond, taking in the quiet, raw longing in his gaze, the way he hovered on the brink of breaking.

She knew he’d kept a vigil by Valaena’s bedside, that he had barely left her side in weeks, clinging to the slimmest hope that Valaena would come back to him.

Daemon met Aemond’s eye, offering him a solemn nod—a gesture of solidarity, of understanding, even of respect for the torment Aemond had endured.

Aemond returned the nod, a slight but grateful tilt of his head, wordlessly conveying his thanks.

Rhaenyra pressed one last kiss to Valaena’s forehead, her hand lingering on her daughter’s for just a heartbeat longer before she pulled away, her own shoulders tense with the weight of emotion.

Then, with Daemon’s arm around her, she allowed him to guide her out.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Rhaenyra and Daemon, Valaena turned her head to look at Aemond, her violet eyes warm and understanding.

She could see the strain in his face, the exhaustion, the fear that still lingered in his gaze despite her being here with him now.

Gently, she patted the bed beside her and whispered, “Come here my love. Let me hold you.”

Aemond barely needed a moment’s invitation. He quickly pulled off his tunic, breeches and eyepatch, his fingers trembling, as if afraid that even the smallest delay would shatter this fragile moment.

He slowly climbed into the bed, his naked body curling against her, his head resting just over her heart, where he could feel the steady, rhythmic beat.

Valaena’s hand slid up to his hair, and pulled the leather tie from it, allowing the long silver strands to cascade over his shoulders like a wave, and she then began to stroke his hair softly

Aemond let out a shaky breath, his eye closing as he absorbed the warmth and familiarity of her touch.

His hands clutched at the fabric of her shift, his fingers twisting the material.

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he made no effort to hide it. He clung to her, his face pressing against her, drawing in her scent, grounding himself in the reality of her presence.

"Would you like me to take this off?" she asked softly, her hand pausing in his hair.

Aemond nodded slowly, and she carefully untied the laces of her shift and shimmied the cotton material off her shoulders and let it pool at her waist, exposing her breasts to him.

He moved back to her instantly, his face nestled between her breasts, feeling the warmth of her soft bare skin against his face.

Valaena resumed stroking his hair, her fingers weaving through the silken strands, a gentle rhythm meant to soothe him.

“I’m here, my love, I’m here-” she murmured, her voice a comforting whisper above him.

Aemond let out a sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing as he allowed himself to sink fully into her embrace.

She was here. And he would never let her go again.

In the weeks that followed Valaena’s awakening, Aemond clung to her like a lifeline, a shadow that moved with her every step, bound by an unspoken fear that if he looked away, even for a moment, she would vanish.

He rarely left her side, his touch possessive and watchful, as though her recovery were as fragile as the first moments after a terrible storm.

No one else was permitted near her except for their children, Lirri and Arro.

Maester Gerardys’ visits, however, that were met with Aemond’s unrelenting wrath.

The mere sight of the Maester—who had once spoken of helping Valaena to ‘pass peacefully’—brought venom to his words.

Each visit was a storm of thinly veiled resentment, his voice low and scathing as he responded to the maester’s every inquiry with cold, biting replies.

The memory of Gerardys’ suggestion haunted him, his fury a fierce shield against his own guilt, which gnawed at him silently.

He couldn’t forgive himself for almost acting on his own moment of despair, haunted by that terrible night when he had held a pillow over her, only to recoil in horror.

It was his guilt, festering and raw like rot, that spurred his bitterness toward Gerardys.

He resented the Maester not only for what he had suggested but also because the Maester’s presence made Aemond confront his own weakness and desperation.

Rhaenyra, too, became a target of his unpredictable anger. Her involvement in the sweet sleep discussions felt like a betrayal, a whispered plot against Valaena's life.

He would look at her now with a glint of accusation, quick to lash out with a bitterness that he knew, deep down, was misdirected.

But that realization did little to stem his fury. He became volatile, his emotions frayed, a mix of relief, anger, and fear that twisted within him, barely contained.

Night after night, he lay awake, watching Valaena as she slept, his gaze fixed on the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Each breath she took was a reminder that she was here, alive, not a spectre conjured by his desperate longing.

His fingers would lightly trace her arm, her face, needing to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. His eye, ringed with exhaustion, barely closed, his own sleep fractured and shallow.

Sometimes he would reach out to touch her face in the darkness, brushing his fingers across her cheek, his breath catching each time, fearing she might fade before his eyes.

He watched her like a man condemned, as if her life depended on his vigil.

And in those sleepless hours, he found himself murmuring to her, words that drifted between promises and pleas.

“I’ll protect you, my love. I’ll always be here. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

Aemond stood at the edge of the gardens, his gaze fixed on Valaena as she sat among their children, sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting soft patterns over her face.

Lirri laughed beside her, holding Aemon in her lap, and Aemond’s lips turned up ever so slightly as he watched his family, feeling a fragile kind of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks.

Yet, the feeling was fleeting, chased away by the dread that never quite left him.

Just then, Helaena appeared at his side, her presence as quiet as a soft breeze. Her eyes, distant yet strangely focused, were fixed on him.

“All the crickets are singing again,” she said in her usual soft, lilting tone.

Aemond looked at her, brow furrowing as he considered her words. “Will they always sing?” he asked, a hint of desperation underlying his question.

Helaena’s gaze softened as she reached out, her slender fingers resting gently on his arm. “Yes, they will,” she replied.

“Good” muttered Aemond, his posture rigid, his arms folded behind his back.

But a shadow of sorrow suddenly crossed Healena’s face as she added, “Yet there is a shadow following you, brother. And if you’re not careful, it will consume you.”

Aemond stiffened, his jaw setting tightly as he turned back to the garden. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied tersely, unwilling to let her words pierce the wall he had built around his mind.

But Helaena only watched him, her eyes bearing a wisdom that unsettled him. “It will fester inside you,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, “writhe in your blood like maggots until it bursts forth, and then you will know nothing but silence.”

Aemond’s fists clenched at his sides, her words gnawing at him. He wanted to dismiss her, to shake off her warning, but the weight of her words seemed to burrow deeper, touching something he had buried. “What can I do?” he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Unburden yourself,” Helaena said, her gaze gentle and sad. “And the shadow will fade.”

With that, she turned and drifted away, her figure disappearing down the garden path, leaving Aemond alone with her words echoing in his mind.

He stood there, watching Valaena and their children, feeling both the ache of his love for them and the fear that had been eating away at him.

He knew Helaena was right—he could feel that shadow growing, twisting inside him, but he didn’t know how to face it.

He didn’t know if he could.

Aemond stood in their shared chambers, the quiet broken only by the soft rustling of fabric as he ran a damp rag over his face.

Dressed only in his loose, partially unlaced breeches that were hanging low on his hips, he felt a strange, restless tension. Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

He strode over, swinging it open to find Luke standing there.

Aemond's eye narrowed. “And what is it that you want, my lord Strong?” His tone was cold, disdain unmistakable in his words.

Luke met his stare, undeterred. “I was wondering if Valaena–”

“No,” Aemond cut him off sharply. “She’s busy.”

“But I–” Luke began, only to be cut off again.

“Are you deaf, bastard? I said no.” The words were laced with a sneer, a finality meant to end the conversation.

Luke’s face flushed, but he stood his ground. “She’s, my sister.”

Aemond curled his lip. “She’s, my wife.” And with that, he slammed the door in Luke’s face.

From behind him, Valaena emerged from their bathing chambers, wrapped in a soft towel, her damp hair framing her face.

“Who was that?” she asked, amused by the irritation on Aemond's face.

“No one,” he muttered dismissively.

Valaena’s smile softened as she approached him, her voice warm with affection. “You can’t keep me locked up forever, you know.”

Aemond’s lips curved slightly, though he made no attempt to deny it. “Why not?”

Laughing softly, she reached up and placed her hands on his bare chest, looking into his eye. “I know you wish to have me all to yourself,” she said.

“But you was in the gardens yesterday, with Lirri and the children.”

Valaena sighed, drawing him closer. “And you was there, watching our every move.”

 Aemond closed his eye, pressing his forehead to hers. “I just want you to be well.”

“I’m fine, Aemond. Truly” she whispered back, her hands brushing his jaw.

He stroked her cheek, his voice raw with unspoken fears. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Valaena promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

He wrapped his arms around her, their kiss deepening, her towel slipping unnoticed to the floor as he felt her warm skin against his.

A surge of desire flared through him, and he guided her back toward the bed. Valaena sank down, pulling him with her, his lips never leaving hers.

“I’m healed from birthing Aemon. I-I’m ready to have you again-” whispered Valaena.

Aemond groaned as he moved his lips down to her neck, pressing reverent kisses along her skin, his hand reaching to push down his breeches, so he could free his hard aching cock.

But suddenly, a number of dark thoughts cut through his desire like a knife, stopping him cold.

What if his seed took root?

There was moontea, but what if for whatever reason it didn’t work?

And she became with child again?

What if another child was too much for her?

What if the strain of carrying another babe weakened her, or worse—what if he lost her for good?

The memory of those harrowing weeks, of watching her slip between life and death, seized him with fear. His hands froze, and a hollow ache of terror filled his chest.

“Sorry—I-I can’t,” he stammered, his voice thick with emotion.

He moved away from her, pulling his breeches up and quickly throwing on a shirt and tunic, each action feeling desperate, almost frantic.

“A-Aemond?” Valaena’s voice was soft, laced with confusion, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, keeping his gaze fixed away from her.

Without another word, he hurried from the room, leaving her sitting on the bed, bewildered and hurt at his rejection.

As Valaena roamed the corridors, she almost collided with Aegon, who gave her a quick once-over with an amused smirk.

“Looking for Aemond?” he asked. “He’s gone flying with Vhagar.”

“Oh,” she sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“Yeah, nearly knocked me down in his haste-” Aegon huffed, one eyebrow raised. “Only lost one eye, surely he’s not that fucking blind.”

Valaena managed a small smile at his jest, but it was tinged with sadness.

Aegon noticed and tilted his head, his humour softening. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, reluctant. “Like you’d really want to listen to my problems.”

Aegon snorted, folding his arms. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.”

Valaena hesitated, starting and stopping, words catching in her throat. “I just-I-”

“Oh, for gods’ sake. Come to my chambers. We’ll have a drink,” Aegon interrupted, waving his hand in a gesture of invitation.

Valaena raised her brow, chuckling. “Aemond would love that.”

“Well, Aemond’s not here, is he?” Aegon countered, grinning. “Besides, you need a break. Just one drink.”

After a moment’s thought, she shrugged, “True enough. Just one though-”

Aegon’s laughter boomed down the hallway. “Oh, come on, you’re no fun. I’ve got real Arbor Gold stashed—none of that piss swill the Queen drinks.”

Valaena laughed and followed him into his chambers, grimacing as she took in the mess.

His bed was covered with rumpled sheets, and some strange wooden objects littered the bedside table.

She reached out, curious, but Aegon held up a hand. “Ah-ah. I wouldn’t do that.”

“And why not?” she asked.

“Well, I might’ve used that with my favourite lady last night,” he replied with a shrug.

Valaena made a face and recoiled. “You have a favourite lady?”

He nodded, giving her a mischievous look. “I was once a man of many tastes. But recently, I thought, why not have just the one favourite lady-”

“-You mean my mother won’t let you have any more coin from the treasury to pay for your indulgences?”

Aegon folded his arms, conceding. “You got that right, the tight fisted bitch. It’s not like I was causing any trouble.”

“Just dishonouring your wife,” Valaena teased, watching his expression carefully.

Aegon’s smirk faded, and he shook his head. “Hel’s my sister. I love her, but not as a wife. I’ve tried-but-”

“It’s okay,” Valaena murmured, cutting him off.

She could see the strain of expectation in his gaze and let the conversation drift.

Aegon knelt, rummaging under his bed, and came back up with a bottle, proudly presenting it.

“Told you I had it. Finest Arbor Gold, last of my stash-” He poured a cup for her and one for himself, raising it high. “-You might be the Queen, but up yours Rhaenyra you tight fisted bitch”

Valaena cut him off with a sharp look. “That’s my mother you’re insulting.”

Aegon just shrugged, unbothered. “I’m entitled to be annoyed. Taking away my coin like that. Who does she think she is?”

Valaena smirked as she took a sip of wine. “The Queen.”

Aegon wrinkled his nose, muttering, “Yeah, the bitch Queen of basta—” He stopped himself as Valaena shot him a glare.

Silence settled between them as they sipped their wine, but then Aegon eventually broke it, glancing sideways at her. “So, what’s my twat of a brother done now?”

Valaena sighed, laughing a little despite herself. “What makes you think he’s done something?”

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Well, he’s spent the last few weeks clinging to you like a leech, and now he’s pissed off on that mouldy rock he calls a dragon, and you’re wandering around here like a ghost. By that logic, he’s clearly done something.”

“It’s-it’s not what he’s done,” she admitted, the words slipping out reluctantly. “It’s what he hasn’t done.”

“Alright, what?” Aegon asked, prodding with a smirk, but his tone was curious, genuinely interested.

“Well-” Valaena hesitated, glancing down at her cup. “-I’ve healed since birthing Aemon, and things were-progressing between us. But then he just stopped saying that he couldn’t, and he left.”

Aegon choked on his wine, laughing. “You’re telling me my brother couldn’t-get it up? Oh, man I can’t wait til he gets back-”

“It wasn’t that-” she shot back, half-laughing, half-defensive. “He was-ready. He just freaked out.”

Aegon raised an eyebrow, thoroughly entertained. “You didn’t have a bogey on your face, did you? Happened to me once with a woman I took to bed. So gross-”

“Aegon, no,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I did not have a fucking bogey on my face”

“Look, my brother might have the most punchable face in Westeros, but he loves you-” Aegon replied, a little more seriously. “-If he freaked out, there must’ve been a reason.”

She nodded, frowning. “Maybe. I just-I don’t know. He was really into it, and then-”

Aegon shrugged, taking another long sip. “-I wish I could give you a rundown of the inner workings of my little brothers twisted mind, but I can't, all I can say is, just be patient. He’ll come around. Or ignore him for a while. He’ll come crawling back soon enough.”

Valaena laughed softly. “And that’s what passes for advice?”

He smirked, holding up his cup. “I promised to listen, didn’t I? besides I’m far too sober to giving you any pearls of wisdom. But-you know what you’re actually not that bad, you know.”

Valaena clinked her cup against his, smiling. “Neither are you.”

In the quiet of the nursery, Valaena rocked little Aemon in her arms, singing softly, her voice warm and low.

"Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis. Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan. Hae mērot gierūli, Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī." (Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing. With words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing. As one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined, beautifully, freely).

As she finished, she kissed Aemon’s forehead and laid him gently in his cot, covering him with the blanket Helaena had so carefully sewn for him.

She turned and saw Aemond leaning in the doorway, watching her.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice soft, almost reverent.

Valaena didn’t answer but moved to her vanity, beginning to undo the braids.

She kept her gaze on the looking glass, watching Aemond’s reflection as he stepped forward.

His hand moved to hers, stilling her fingers, and he murmured, “Let me.”

Valaena nodded silently, letting her hands fall to her lap as he took over, slowly unfastening the ties and clips holding her hair in place.

 One by one, the braids unravelled under his touch, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back.

Aemond’s hands lingered, skimming over her shoulders and moving to her breasts, his fingers grazing the curve of her breasts before teasing the stiffened peak of her nipple of the fabric of her dress.

Valaena closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her, feeling the intimacy of his touch.

But then, he pulled away.

She opened her eyes, watching him in the looking glass as he moved to undress, his expression unreadable.

She turned back to Aemon’s cot, checking on him once more, before slipping out of her gown and pulling on a clean shift.

Valaena could feel Aemond’s eye on her, watching as she prepared for bed, but he said nothing, and she, too, stayed silent.

She slipped beneath the covers, waiting, feeling the silence between them stretching long and tense.

After a sigh, Aemond joined her, lying on his back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Usually, he would reach for her, pulling her close, his arms around her as they lay together.

Tonight, though, he stayed away, the empty space between them feeling colder, wider—like an unspoken chasm.

Valaena’s heart twisted, and she took a steadying breath, finally voicing what had been weighing on her mind.

“Have I done something wrong?”

Aemond remained silent, his jaw tight, his gaze unmoving. The silence between them grew heavy, filling the room with a sense of absence, a painful gap she couldn’t understand.

She watched him for a moment longer, her own confusion and hurt swirling within her, and then she turned onto her side, closing her eyes against the ache in her chest her heart quietly breaking against the silence.

The past weeks had been a trial of silence and distance, growing heavier and colder with each night. Valaena had watched, hurt and bewildered, as Aemond withdrew further and further, the once-intimate bond between them dwindling into something fragile and unfamiliar.

He watched her with a fierce protectiveness during the day, but he wouldn’t touch her—wouldn’t even kiss her.

Each night, he turned to his side, laying as far from her as the bed allowed, leaving her feeling like an untouchable ghost beside him.

She had tried to reach out, to draw him back, asking him what was wrong, why he was avoiding her.

But each time, he brushed her off, tight-lipped and tense, refusing to speak.

Confused, her mind spun with questions and self-doubt, but he only grew more distant, more haunted.

What she didn’t know was that Aemond’s silence came not from a lack of desire but from a torment that consumed him, his fears and guilt clashing painfully with his longing for her.

And one night, things finally boiled over.

Valaena was struggling to undo the laces of her dress, the ties at the back too intricate to reach. Aemond, watching her from across the room, came forward.

“Let me,” he offered, his voice low and tense.

She nodded, and as his hands loosened the bindings, her dress slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.

He let his fingers trail along her bare skin, his hand brushing over the curve of her back, and Valaena shuddered under his touch, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.

His self-control crumbled. He pressed his face to the hollow of her neck, kissing her skin, his desire finally breaking through the walls he had so desperately tried to build.

His hands gripped her firmly, and he spun her around, capturing her lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss.

Aemond pushed her backward until she fell onto the bed, pulling him down with her, his own clothes coming off in a flurry of hurried, frantic movements.

His touch was rough, and the ache of longing finally had its outlet, his need a raw, consuming force that surged with each heartbeat.

He took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside her in a single thrust, his eye rolling into the back of head from the sheer bliss of it.

“A-Aemond-” moaned Valaena, as he begin pounding into her in a series of deep penetrating thrusts.

Gods, he wasn’t going to last.

But then, in the heat of their passion, a dark shadow crept into his mind.

He saw her pale, gaunt face from the weeks she’d laid in a coma, saw the blood that had stained the sheets after Aemon’s birth, felt the cold, terrible weight of the pillow he had once held over her, contemplating doing the unthinkable.

The fear seized him, ripping through him like a dagger, and with a strangled cry, he pulled away.

“No!” he choked, his voice breaking as he reeled backward, breathing heavily. Valaena’s face was flushed, her lips parted in confusion as she gathered the sheet around herself.

“W-What’s wrong?” asked Valaena as she tried to reach for him, her eyes wide with hurt and bewilderment,

But Aemond stepped back, snapping, “Don’t.”

The word struck her, and she recoiled, her eyes brimming with tears. "Why won’t you lay with me? Is it-do you not love me anymore?"

Aemond’s face crumpled, and he grasped her face in his hands, his voice soft but raw. “Of course I love you. It’s-it’s not that.”

She tried to kiss him, to close the aching space between them, but he turned his face away, his hand trembling as he began to hastily pull on his clothes.

Desperate and hurt, Valaena whispered, “Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you won’t take me?”

Aemond’s head snapped up, his voice sharp. “No! I do not have a mistress. How dare you accuse me of such a thing.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” Valaena cried. “You won’t kiss me or touch me. You won’t even look at me like you used to-”

Aemond clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I just don’t feel like it.”

The words wounded her, and her voice broke. “I-I know my body has changed since I gave birth. I know I don’t look the same but-but-”

Hearing her doubt herself, thinking she was somehow the cause, shattered him, he loved her mothers body, the lines on her stomach proof of the healthy babes she had birthed him and her large breasts that he loved to nuzzle against.

Aemond shook his head, appalled at how his silence had poisoned her confidence. “It’s not that,” he whispered, horrified.

“Then what is it?” she demanded, her voice rising, hurt giving way to frustration. “You won’t even look at me! If it’s not another woman, then what?”

Aemond closed his eye, breathing heavily. “I can’t-I can’t bear the thought of my seed taking root again, of putting you through that. Do you have any idea how terrified I am at the thought of losing you?”

Her expression softened, and she stepped toward him. “Aemond,” she said gently, “There are ways to prevent your seed from taking root. You know this.”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if you forget? I won’t risk it. I won’t risk you. I can’t live without you-I can’t. I won’t-”

She swallowed, her voice trembling as she looked up at him, her own pain and frustration flashing across her face. “So, your answer is to push me away? To let me think that it’s my fault?”

Aemond’s voice cracked, his gaze desperate and pained. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me too understand,” Valaena pleaded. “I need to know. Please, Aemond. Don’t shut me out-”

He backed away, his face pale, his hands clenching and unclenching as his shame and fear reached their breaking point.

Finally, he looked at her, his voice a raw whisper.

“I-I tried to kill you.”

The words fell into the room like a stone, each one a confession of pain that had haunted him every night since her recovery.

TBC

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ takes revenge after your accident

Warning: mentions of blood

JJ and I had decided to go on a date, realizing we hadn't been on one since we got back to the island. We were going to a nice restaurant, not Kook nice, but nice. I was wearing a blush floral dress with bows on the straps and JJ was in a nice sage button-up. He was wearing his normal cargo shorts and boots, realizing he didn't have anything nicer, but we didn't care. We just wanted to be together.

We took the Twinkie, not wanting to walk all the way into town since the weather was supposed to get bad later. I was sitting in the passenger seat and JJ was driving. He had ahold of my hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. "I love you," he tells me, placing a kiss on my hand. I look over at him and smile, "I love you too, J." I look back at the road and within a second, I feel the weight of the door crash into me. The Twinkie flips to its side before coming to a halt in the middle of the intersection.

I feel the blood dripping down the side of my face and my head is in agonizing pain as I glance over to a bleeding JJ. He's not moving. I try to move and scream out in pain. I can't feel my leg and see it's pinned by a piece of the door that broke off. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I could hear people trying to break the windshield. I recognized one of them and started to yell out. I was slowly losing energy, feeling my body give way to the pain I was in. I look back over to JJ, who is still unconscious before everything goes black.

It had been three weeks since the accident. I was released the first week, but I've been there every single day since visiting. The Pogues are trying to be supportive and keep a positive mindset about it, but I just can't wrap my head around it. Everything was working, the business was doing great, nobody was in trouble or being chased, we were all happy. Within one single moment, everything changed. All it took was one asshole who thought he could drive drunk to ruin it all. As I sat in the hospital chair, I couldn't stop thinking about what I could've done to change what is happening now.

"Hey, you ready to go?" John B asks, standing in the doorway of the hospital room. I don't say anything and he comes over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, "She'll wake up JJ," he says with a hint of pain in his voice, "she has to." I place my hand on his, letting him know I hear him, it's just difficult to feel that way. "What's that stupid thing you always say? You can't what?"

"You can't kill a Pogue," I reply with a chuckle that was immediately met with tears in my eyes. I know he's trying to help, but I just can't see past the fact that she's not awake yet and the doctors aren't sure when she will wake up. The trial for the person who hit us was today and I told her I wouldn't miss it, I would be there to see justice for her. "I'll be right out," I told John B. He pats me on the shoulder before walking out of the room.

"I'll come back and tell you all about what happened," I took hold of her hand, "I just need you to wake up for me. Okay, princess?" She's been in a coma since the accident, her injuries being too much for her body to handle. Her face was littered with cuts and bruises, but it didn't take away any of her beauty. They almost lost her. I woke up not soon after the accident and they were doing CPR on her, I tried to get to her, but I couldn't. They had me strapped down to the gurney, my neck in a brace. They were loading me into the ambulance when she finally came out of it. As soon as I knew she was alright, I passed out from the pain. I woke up later in a hospital bed and was released three days later. I had minimal injuries, she took the brunt of it all.

"If I could go back to that day, I would switch places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you were here right now. This world needs you in it," I tell her, hoping and praying she'll hear me, "you're too bright of a light to just be gone. I need you to fight for me, for all of us. The Pogues won't be the same without you." I look up at her, wanting nothing more than for her to open her beautiful eyes. I feel a tear drop onto my hand. I'm not even sure if I believe she can hear me, but I need her to. "I'll be back later, I love you so damn much. If you can hear anything, hear that." I stand up and place a kiss on her forehead before slowly walking out the door, taking one last look at her before I leave.

John B met me at the end of the hallway and we walked outside. The rest of the group was in an old junker we found. The Twinkie was totaled and we got a good enough deal on this van. Everybody was waiting for me, I could see the sadness in their faces. "Let's go see this asshole get what he deserves." I clap my hands at them before jumping in the van and closing the door. I've been looking forward to this day, the day Rafe is found guilty.

We quickly drove to the courthouse, seeing the place filling up fast. Everybody loves her on this island, they all want to see justice served. As we walk in and take our seats, I can't help but notice all the sad faces pointed towards us. The Kooks aren't even looking our way as they sit behind Rafe. I'm sitting in the front, and I can't help but send glares Rafe's way.

The trial took a little over five hours and I started to have a bad feeling about it. It happened too fast I thought, I could see the worry on Pope's face and that told me all I needed to know. This wasn't going the way we wanted. It wasn't long before the Judge came out and announced to everybody that Rafe was found not guilty on all charges. The entire courthouse erupted into people yelling. I couldn't focus on anything, all I saw was red. I slowly got up and looked at Rafe, wanting nothing but to kill him. He got away with it, he had to have paid people off or threatened them. He gave me a small smirk and I went to charge at him, but Kie beat me to the punch; literally. She took one swing at him before the entire room erupted into chaos.

I slowly walked to the back of the courthouse, ignoring all the fights happening around me. I turned the corner and grabbed a chair before throwing it through the window. I turned around and saw one of the officers heading my way, trying to tackle me but not before I punched him, knocking him to the floor. I started to run out the door but was quickly pulled back by a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Shoupe holding me back. I thought I was done at that moment, until someone slammed a chair into his back, causing him to crumple to the floor. I ran out of there as quickly as I could.

I couldn't think straight, all I could do was run. I left everybody at the courthouse. She could die and he's getting away with it. This town is letting him get away with it I thought. It wasn't long before I was downtown, surrounded by all the Kook businesses. I let out a small chuckle before picking up a bat that was sitting next to someone's bike. I swung it around a few times before I let all that rage out.

I took the bat a swung it as hard as I could into the window of a car, causing the lights and horn to go off. "Why stop there?" I said to myself as I moved down the sidewalk. I took a swing at the electrical board on a street light causing it to spark and set fire to the trashcans below it. I looked down the sidewalk at all the clean windows. I stood in front of one before swinging the bat, the window shattering from the force. I broke every window along the sidewalk, everyone meeting me with an alarm.

I could see the lights coming from around the corner and ran. I had to get back to her. I ran until I came to the hospital entrance. I threw the bat into the bushes next to me before walking in. "Hey JJ," one of the nurses said to me as I walked in, "I'll get you checked in." I nodded my head at her. As I came to her door, I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and make it seem like I didn't just run across town. It's not like she can see me I thought.

I walked through the door and looked over. My eyes filled with tears as I looked at her.

"Hey J."

[imtryingbuck]

Making Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 1,801

Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. hospital stuff. smut but not smut.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

For three weeks Bucky barely moved. He couldn’t think straight. He point blank refused to go home to rest and shower instead choosing to stay in the hospital, sleeping in an uncomfortable chair and showering in the en-suite but making sure that he kept the door open enough for him to listen out for her.

For three weeks all Bucky saw was blood. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw it. Blood on his hands, on the floor, on his wife’s dress.

For three weeks all Bucky did was replay the scene of that night over and over again.

The car. The gunshots. The scream. The sound of Theo gasping for air. The sirens. Steve and Thor’s hands on him pulling his body away from his wife as paramedics were trying to work on her.

The way Theo stuttered, worried if Wanda was okay, as if she wasn’t the one laying on the ground with blood staining her dress in four different places.

For three weeks Bucky stayed by her side holding her hand. After the fourth day of being in the hospital Bucky had to force Wanda to go home, the woman had not stopped crying and apologising, blaming herself for what had happened to her friend and not for taking the bullets for herself. Their friends visiting every day, staying all day and even though Bucky was by her side there was guards outside the room, hallways and surrounding the whole hospital.

Winnie and Martha arrived at the hospital next day when they were informed. Bucky didn’t know why but he felt annoyed that Michael had never showed up in those three weeks despite knowing that his daughter was in a coma.

Three weeks and five days later he sat watching the tv screen but not paying attention to what was happening when a voice that he had been wanting to hear, came from the bed. “Bu-Bucky?”

“Theo? Oh baby you’re awake! Steve get the doctor”

“I-is Wanda okay?”

“What? Yeah she’s alright”

“She-she didn’t get hurt did she?”

“No, no baby”

“I did though?”

“Doll I’m so sorry, I failed you so badly. I’m so sorry.” Gripping her hand tightly bringing their entwined hands to his lips and kissing along her knuckles.

“I’m… I’m okay. C-can we go home now?”

“Baby you’ve just woken up-“. A doctor comes in interrupting him, straight away doing checks on her.

“You’re very lucky to be alive Mrs Barnes.” He tells her before leaving. He did tell her that she could leave in a few days, which had her feeling instantly better.

After a couple of hours of being awake Theo shyly asked Bucky if he could help her take a shower, her cheeks bright red as he took off her hospital gown. Pressing gentle kisses along her shoulders Bucky held her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world as he washed her body and hair. By the time she was done, dried and dressed in some warm fuzzy pyjamas that Wanda had brought her, she was tired and hungry.

Steve had rang Wanda telling her that Theo was awake just as he promised, as she was finishing off with her shower all of her new friends were in her room all wanting to give her a hug. Wanda had brought Theo a giant brown teddy bear - that Bucky wasn’t happy about just because of the size of the thing but he soon found himself wanting it all for his own - in hopes she could forgive her for that night, if it wasn’t for her recommending to go somewhere else for dessert then she would have never been gunned down.

Even though she had been sleeping for nearly a month sleep over took her not long after Sam and Steve brought pizzas for them all.

Two days later Theo was allowed to go home - Bucky had to grab her hand as she was already trying to get out of the place before she had even signed her release forms.

The second Martha saw Theo she pushed Steve to the side and all but ran over to the young girl and wrapped her arms around her giving her a massive hug, telling her that she had missed her and she had been praying for her wellbeing.

Just like Wanda wanted when she come home from the hospital Theo wanted to spend the day watching films, Bucky was happy to oblige and make his wife happy so that’s what they did.

Halfway through the second film Martha came in, her whole body shaking as she informed Bucky that Michael was here and wanted to see Theo.

They all stood behind her as Bucky stood by her side holding her hand and she greeted her father. There was no hug. There was no emotion on his face. It was just a cold and uncomfortable moment between father and daughter.

“I see you’re doing better.” He said it as if she had just gotten a broken arm and not as if she had been shot multiple times.

Squeezing Bucky’s hand a little bit tighter she answered her father. “I-I am.”

“Right. James you and I need to have a word.”

“Is it about the shooters?” Michael shook his head. “Then we have nothing to talk about. Not once did you visit your daughter, not once did you even ring me to see how she was so no you have no right to come to our home and tell me we need to talk.”

“You disrespected my daughter-“

“I did and I also did it by sitting right next to your other daughter as we were celebrating her birthday.”

Michael’s face went rigid as anger filled his veins at being interrupted and disrespected by someone he saw as a boy. He looked at Theo and sighed, nodding his head once he turned on his heels and walked out of the house.

“Baby, are you okay?” Bucky’s attention shifted towards her straight away.

“I’m okay. Can we carry on watching the film?”

“Of course we can doll.”

Despite the interruption of her father Theo didn’t seem to have been affected by his presence, Bucky couldn’t have been prouder. They go back into the cinema room where Bucky instantly pulls Theo onto his lap and pulling the blanket over them again.

When everyone began to leave to head to bed, Bucky held Theo’s hand leading her towards their bedroom, the second the door closed behind her Bucky kissed her.

“I promise I will find who did this to you.” He whispered inches away from her lips.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does! They aren’t getting away with hurting you.”

She didn’t care. Truly she didn’t just as long as her friends were okay and that Bucky wasn’t hurt. She still wasn’t use to someone caring about her the way they had shown her and she honestly didn’t think she would ever get use to it.

Bucky went to respond as she shook her head in a silent way in telling him that it really didn’t matter but she silenced him by pressing her lips to his.

“I-I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky nods and she rushes off into the bathroom.

She knew exactly what she wanted for the first time in her life. She knew she wanted to do something that before had caused her so much pain. But she was nervous. Scared off the possibility of rejection.

Before she could even register what she was doing she was removing her clothes and stepping into the bedroom. Bucky’s jaw dropped wide open when he looked up from where he was putting his phone on charge.

Neither one said anything other than her nodding her head, hoping that he understood what she was trying to tell him.

To say she was nervous was an understatement yet she felt comfortable and confident, it helped that Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off her. The look of pure love and pride both outshining the lust swirling around in his ocean blue eyes, his fingers kept twitching in attempt to reach out for her.

When their eyes met Bucky gave her the most gentle, genuine smile she had ever seen. “Come here beautiful” he whispered, his right hand cupping her face holding her delicately as if she was a precious flower, his left hand resting on her hip. “You’re so beautiful”.

“B-Bucky… I l-love you”

“You- I love you too pretty girl” both smiling at each other before Bucky places his lips against hers, both sighing contently at the familiarity.

The kiss shared between the two lovers grew more heated, Bucky’s stomach flutters with pride as she starts to unconsciously take lead and he’s more than happy and willing to blindly follow.

Moving them both towards the bed he moves slowly in a sign that she could always back out of this, laying her on their bed lips breaking contact he leans on his left arm basking in the way she looks underneath him.

Theo’s mind raced with confusion when Bucky kept asking for permission or when he told her that they didn’t have to continue if she didn’t want to, she had grown accustomed to being told that she had no choice in that matter and overtime became numb to how badly it hurt, however she wanted this, for the first time in her life she wanted to be touched, to be loved so every time the man above her asked she nodded and smiled.

Bucky’s whole body swelled with determination to keep making her release those beautiful sounds of pleasure as he took her apart with his tongue and fingers. He chuckled lightly at the startled gasp that she let out at the sensation she had never felt before, lifting his head with a promise on the tip of his tongue that it was okay that died quickly when her hand rested itself on the back of his head pushing him closer to his new favourite meal.

He was addicted to her.

The act itself had tears gathering in her eyes, reassuring him to continue and that she was okay when he realised and stopped his actions, she was overwhelmed with the look of love and affection in his ocean eyes as his hips moved back and forth. His right hand linked with hers, his left resting itself on the side of her neck - thumb rubbing slowly from side to side as his tongue slowly danced with hers.

The only sounds coming from the room was soft moans and panting, and Bucky repeatedly telling her how much he loves her.

It was more than just sex. It was making love. An act neither one had ever experienced before.

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10

[ayyynne]

Buck wakes up at some stupid hour of the night with a strange feeling that for the first time in months he needs to text Bobby, like he did every day when we first woke up from his coma.

Except his usual "hey Cap. My brain just needs to know that you're alive. Text me when you wake up?" never gets answered. And he's not really expecting one at 2am, but he still can't fall back asleep.

So he's wide awake when his phone rings again just a little while later. And why the hell is Hen calling him at this hour. Somehow he already knows the answer. He's already grabbing his keys and slipping on shoes as he answers the phone. She gets right to the point.

"they're both in the hospital. Athena is stable. Bobby's heart stopped. There was a fire. Cedar's. That's all I know. I'm heading there now. Calling Chim next, can you call Eddie?"

There's no need for a "holy fuck" or "oh my God," she already knows. They're beyond that right now.

"Harry and May and Michael?" He asks as he runs to the Jeep.

"Called May first. Harry was at a friend's. Shes calling Harry and Michael. If Eddie needs to drop Christopher off, Karen is still home with Denny"

"thanks." And the line clicks and he's immediately asking Siri to call Eddie, not even thinking about the Shannon/Kim/Marisol bullshit because that handful of hours ago feels like a million years ago. He thinks for a second Eddie might not answer. He does by the thrid ring.

"Cap. Athena. Fire. Hospital. Cedar's." Bucks not even sure his brain could think of complete sentences anyways even if he wanted too. "Karen home Denny if Chris needs it" he adds. Almost a full sentence. Eddie gets it.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Are you driving? Are you okay to drive?" Because of course Eddie knows. Eddie knows how much Buck cares about his whole team, his family, but especially Bobby. He remembers Buck's fear on the cruise ship. Or when Bobby was exposed to that radiation. Or any time Bobby wasn't okay. Because Buck wasn't either.

"fine. Almost there" the plus side of it being 2am? LA traffic isn't terrible.

----

Athena's stable. Smoke inhalation but nothing some oxygen can't fix. Bobby's heart stopped. Bobby was dead. Buck wonders if how he feels now was how Bobby and Eddie and Hen and Chim and Maddie felt after the lighting. When all they could do was sit. And wait. And pray. And hope for the best.

So that's what Buck does. He sits there. Staring at that lest text he sent. Waiting. And Hoping. And maybe he even prays a little.

(Weeks later, after Bobby is awake, and has a new phone to replace the one that burned with the house, the very first text he sends is a familiar "morning kid, I'm all good 🙂." Buck screenshots it to save forever.)

Also on A03

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Accident: part 2 Happy

Request: JJ got hurt when he crashed his motorcycle and he woke up to see the reader sleeping, head resting on her arms, on the edge of the bed. She’s had a crush on him for years, but never told him cause he liked Kiara since kindergarten.

Read Part One First

Y/N

Y/N wake up

               The deep voice stirs me from the memories of the night. Pressure between my hand pulsates every few seconds as I feel another sensation filtering through my hair. My eyes slowly open expecting to find the harsh sun but the night sky greets the window still. How long have I been asleep? Is JJ awake? JJ!

               Peering to my left I am greeted by ocean blue eyes and a soft smirk. Trailing my gaze down his body I find one of his hands still safely secured in my own while his other stops short of another stroke through my hair. Still neither of us speaks and not an inch of air moves around the room as if anticipating what will happen next.

“Are-“ JJ clears his throat. “Are you okay?”

               Am I okay? He was the one chased down by the cops, crashed his motorcycle and has been in a coma for who knows how long. JJ’s eyes filter down my face to the rest of my body, meticulously searching for any type of injury. A warmth and icy sensation fight for dominance in my chest as sob builds up in my throat and tears threaten my eyes. I am suffocating from within and I have forgotten how to breathe.

               In an instant JJ’s arms are around me and I feel a groan fighting against his chest from the sudden swift movement. His voice pleads for me to tell him where I am injured, promising to make it all better, apologizing. Still unable to speak I shake my head back-and-forth and pry my head from the crook of his neck but I’m not quite ready to leave the safety of his arms. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest and all I can think is that this is so much better than simply seeing his breaths, to actually feel them with mine is something I will never take for granted.

“No, JJ I am okay.” My voice sounding more like a squeak than anything else. Buying a few more seconds before speaking, and having the desire to find more ways to touch him, my hand cups the side of his face. Butterflies surface in my stomach as he lightly presses his head into my touch. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m tough as steel Y/N.” JJ tries to joke, I don’t return his smile and he quickly drops his own.

“Don’t you dare do something like that again.” My voice throaty and tears kiss my skin as they escape. It is now or never. “I couldn’t handle it if… JJ I’ve been so-“

“I will always come back to you, Y/N.” JJ interrupts me and his hand not holding mine buries itself in my hair before cupping the back of my neck. His thumb rubs circles into my skin. “You are the most important person to me.”

“P4L right?” He means the group, not me individually.

“No,” his voice lowers as his eyes bore into my soul. Heat rises on my cheeks. I want to look away but JJ has me stuck in a trance. If I am a snake then he is a snake charmer.

His eyes flicker momentarily to my lips before searing into mine once more. Like gravity we begin to move closer, slowly as if JJ thinks I’ll startle easy any other way. Slowly but all too fast and all-consuming micro explosions flow down my nerves originating where his lips meet mine. As fast as they started it stopped, but the aftertaste lingers.

“You are the most important person to me.” He repeats, the intensity of his gaze not wavering a few moments more before melting back into his familiar soft and playful gaze. “Now, come here. I want cuddles.”

“But the others...” I’m torn between letting the others know JJ is okay and spending a few more uninterrupted moments with him.

“Y/N as you so kindly pointed out, I could have died tonight.” His easy going and joking tone laces his words. My boy is back and trying to be his old self. “So as the person who almost died, who could still be dying! I feel like I should get whatever I want for at least 24 hrs. Should be a whole week, a month even! But I am a generous guy and will settle for a few more hours if the fates allow. And all I want is to feel you curled up into my side.”

               My eyes bounce between each of his, the trademark smirk reappearing on his face and I can’t help but smile back at him. Without words I do as request and curl my body beside his, avoiding my weight on his torso in case he has any broken ribs. JJ’s arms easily fold around my frame and lightly squeezes in appreciation.

“Who am I to deny a dying man his wish.” I feel a soft chuckle vibrate through him before we both dose off back into sleep. Thankfully leaving the horrors of the night are behind us.

Click here to read the angsty part

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Bed hair for the soft prompts if it inspires :3

@zahlibeth also asked for this one! On ao3 here!

It's easy to rely on habit in times of crisis. It’s been a long while since Athena has been put on security detail but her body still sinks into it, easy. Think of a grocery list, or a mediocre book you read, or try to remember all the rules of Risk — something to keep you from inattentive boredom, but not something so engaging you’ll be distracted. Feet a little apart, legs stiff but not locked, settle into your own bones because you’ll be here awhile.

It’s wrong, though, because if she were actually working she’d be in uniform, and she’d be by the door facing out instead of across the hall looking in, and she’d never be assigned to this room. She isn’t a doctor, there aren’t any hard and fast rules about family members, but any captain worth a damn would bench her for being too close to the situation to keep a clear head.

In the room, Eddie Diaz sets a plastic grocery store bag down on Evan Buckley’s bed. Buck shifts his thigh just a little to make room for it, gazing up at his friend with a smile that Athena can’t quite manage to look at without hurting. Every smile on that boy’s face since he woke up has hurt, for reasons Athena can’t quite explain to herself. Bobby has been shaking with relief, giddy with it, grinning down at the kid in awe whenever he’s in the room. Maybe that’s it; while Buck was unconscious she was needed as a rock, she had to be the solid foundation everyone could build themselves around. It’s okay now. Buck is awake — alive — and still sore, still not well, but he’s going to be okay. They can all relax. But here she is, standing guard, because everyone is alright and she can take her turn giving into paranoia and catastrophe.

She doesn’t think that’s quite it, though. It’s… she’s having trouble with the timeline. The facts of the case don’t feel like they’re adding up right, though she knows they’re true. Sunday afternoon: Evan Buckley was at the home of Robert Nash and Athena Grant. He was there for lunch. He sat at the kitchen table and he laughed, and he smiled. Monday night: Evan Buckley, in the regular course of his job, climbed a ladder to aid in putting out a fire in an apartment building. He was struck by lightning, and he died. Bobby, the one time she convinced him to come home and sleep in a bed, wept that he had again held the body of his son. Thursday morning: After four days in a coma fighting organ failure and other yet unknown effects of being hit by 300 million volts of electricity, Evan Buckley woke up. He woke up. He laughed with his father, with the rest of his family. He smiled, bright as he always has.

He smiled, he died, he’s smiling again. That’s what happened, indisputable, but each part of it feels wrong, feels tainted by the central event. How could he have smiled so happily on Sunday, when that was going to happen the next day? How can he smile so happily now that it has? He was in her house. She shouldn’t have let him leave.

“Alright,” Eddie says, pulling wet wipes, a spray bottle, various other things out of the bag. “I’m not gonna lie to you; after a few days of this your hair is going to feel as disgusting as it does now just in new and exciting ways, but hopefully by then you’ll be home. Or- at least they’ll let you take a real shower.”

Buck laughs, running a finger over the spines of a hair brush. “Dude, anything will be better than this. I feel like I’m made of grease.” He reaches a hand up — to run it through his limp hair, maybe — but winces and lowers it carefully again. Athena holds her breath yards away as Eddie freezes, minutely, just a tiny second of stillness before he’s smiling and opening the wipes.

“Well,” Eddie says, voice just as cheerful as before, “Luckily for you I am a master of the unsatisfying hospital hair cleaning routine.”

Buck almost giggles, shoulders wiggling like the way a child laughs. “Oh, please, show me your ways.”

Eddie holds up the wipe first. “Sorry this smells so flowery, but it’s the wettest brand of wipes I‘ve found.” He starts to hand the damp square to Buck, but hesitates. “Uh- I was going to let you- but it’ll be uncomfortable for- do you want me to just…”

“Sure,” Buck smiles. “I trust you.”

Eddie only made it in the room once while Buck was out, as far as Athena is aware. He’d haunted the hall like a ghost or a watchdog, though she supposes she’s not really one to talk while she’s posted out here. She watches as he directs Buck to scoot closer and stands as far to the back of the bed as he can get so he’s sort of behind Buck. She wonders if he’ll hesitate to touch him. She did. Since he woke up nearly 24 hours ago she has put a hand on his shoulder, once. It had been warm. He’d been moving, a little, half dead and even then unable to keep still. Eddie squeezes the wipe above Buck’s head, dripping faintly floral dampness, and then starts moving the cloth around his curls, and he doesn’t hesitate at all. Athena breathes in and out. Not half dead, she reminds herself. Mostly living.

Buck isn’t moving much now. He looks utterly relaxed as Eddie cleans away days of hospital grime. The man is so gentle about it, movements incredibly soft and slow, a hand supporting Buck’s head any time he needs to reposition to get at a new spot. She’d assumed this is a trick he’d learned after getting shot, but wonders now if this is an older skill, perfected on his child’s curls after any of Christopher’s hospital stays.

“Alright,” Eddie says, several discarded wipes later. He sets the last one on the mattress with a little flourish. “Step one complete.”

Buck opens eyes that drifted shut at some point, laughing quietly. “God, I feel better already.”

“Well, now it’s time for detangling, so don’t be too happy with me yet.”

Buck snorts, gingerly passing back the hair brush. “I’ll be brave, do your worst.”

Buck can’t see Eddie’s face with the way he’s standing, but Athena has a clear view. Sort of sad, kind of frightened. Athena is suddenly sure that he’s only ever going to do his absolute best for the man in the bed before him. “Okay,” he says, a warning before he starts, and she’s surprised that his voice doesn’t shake.

He begins with his fingers, pulling them so very carefully through the knotted strands, and it’s so intimate that Athena looks away on instinct. She counts all the chairs she can see in the waiting room, she reads all the signs on the walls. She doesn’t look in the room again until Buck speaks.

“Thank you.” He’s looking up at Eddie, neck craned as he tilts his head back, and she knows all the jokes about our Buckaroo, resident golden retriever, but it makes her think of a cat she had when she was younger. The tiny thing would plaster herself to your side and lean her head back up against you, so much love in her gaze you couldn’t help but smile back. Eddie smiles back, now.

“It’s no problem, Buck.”

“I can still thank you,” Buck says as Eddie leans over him to grab the spray bottle. Dry shampoo. He mists Buck’s head with it, ruffling his hair to get it evenly coated. “It’s polite.”

Eddie laughs, and Athena hadn’t realized his laughter before had been a little muted. “You don’t have to be polite to me.”

Buck grins. “Fine. Gel me up, peon.”

Eddie laughs again, loud and cackly, as he grabs the last tub from the bag. “Yes, sir. I got a pomade, it’s a little lighter than your normal stuff so hopefully the build up won’t feel so bad.”

“Okay.”

Eddie moves so he can see Buck’s face again, working the product into his hair and doing some light styling. The pomade doesn’t have much hold, his curls remain more prominent than they usually are, but he looks cleaner, a little neater, and definitely happier once Eddie is finished.

“There you are.” Eddie says, sitting back down in the chair pulled up to Buck’s bedside. He raises a pointed eyebrow, lips curved into a smirk. “Remember to leave a five star yelp review.”

Buck throws his head back in laughter, and Eddie sways forward into the orbit of it. The look on his face is- he’s lovestruck. She’d wondered about that — with more and more frequency lately, every story from Buck starting and ending with the other man — but she doesn’t know Eddie as well as some of the others on Bobby’s team and hadn’t wanted to assume. There is no doubt, though, looking at him now. Strangely, it makes Athena feel a little better. She definitely hadn’t known Eddie when his wife had passed but she knows it happened. She remembers Emmet, thinks of Marcy. Michael, and then Bobby. Buck and Eddie. The timeline — smiles, death, smiling again — is one she knows, after all, just in a different context, on a longer timeline.

When Buck leans forward again after his guffaw Eddie hasn’t moved back, so they end up very close to each other, matching grins reflecting between them. Eddie spots a bit of product near Buck’s temple and reaches up with a thumb to wipe it away, and it’s such a casual gesture until, suddenly, Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. When he falls apart he does it with a swift efficiency that something in Athena admires. His face shatters, his whole body slumps forward like a puppet with cut strings, a sob rattles up out of him with no preamble.

Buck’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t necessarily look surprised. “Oh, Eddie…” he breathes, leaning even closer on his pillow.

“S-sorry,” Eddie gasps, scrubbing at his face like the touch of his palm will put him back together, sucking in air to try and stop the weeping. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Buck’s tone is so gentle, so patient. Athena realizes she still thinks of him as a kid — a fool kid much of the time — but he doesn’t seem so young as he rests a calm hand on Eddie’s arm.

“For- I- I shouldn’t fall apart like this.”

“Why not?” Buck asks, laughing just a little. “You know I was a mess when you- it’s fine, Eds.”

“But-“

“You want me to forgive you?” Buck asks, eyebrows raised, a look on his face like he’d wanted the same, once. “I will. You’re forgiven.”

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t-“ Eddie takes a few more shuddering breaths and Buck just waits him out. “I couldn’t come in here. You were in here and I couldn’t- I left you alone.”

“I forgive you,” Buck says, easy as anything. Eddie’s face pinches up again, and he shakes his head sort of desperately even as Buck’s hand soothes up and down between wrist and elbow.

“I broke your ribs,” he says, voice cracking like the bones must have under his frantic compressions.

Buck’s free hand travels to his chest, and his fingers tap a little heartbeat rhythm there. “I forgive you, Eddie.”

“I love you,” Eddie says, in a voice Athena has heard in interrogation rooms and the priest’s box after Sunday mass. Buck’s inhale can’t be very loud, but she hears it all the way from the hall.

“I’m not forgiving you for that,” he says, a little winded but very firm. He sits up in his bed, ignoring Eddie’s worried hands hovering around him as he puts his own on either side of Eddie’s face. “I’m not- please, don’t apologize for that.”

“Sorry- I- I mean-“ Eddie smiles like he can’t help it as Buck’s gentle amused huff hits his face, even as tears still stream across his skin. “I won’t. I just wish I’d told you sooner.”

“You can tell me now,” Buck says, sliding a thumb over Eddie’s wet cheek. “Again. You can tell me again, and- and tomorrow, and the next day- I’m right here. It’s not too late, Eddie. I’m right here.”

Eddie nods, breathing unevenly again, and then they sort of fall into each other, holding and being held, so carefully but tight enough that Athena isn’t sure of the force it would take to pull them apart again. She inhales long and exhales slow. She can sort of see Buck’s face, smiling into Eddie’s shoulder, and it still hurts but she can maybe see how it might not, eventually. Right here, and tomorrow and the next day. He’ll still be in the hospital for a little while but- maybe, when he’s settled back at home, he’d like to come over for lunch.

Athena stands up straight, takes one last long look, and leaves Buck in safe hands.