#danish couch

[simdertalia]

🍓ᛉ ACNH Nordic Set ᛟ🍓

💗 Sims 4, Base game compatible/ Steam animation requires Cats & Dogs. 43 items

This set is brought about by the lovely patrons who voted 💗

As always, turning the brightness down on functional lamps will make them look better (not overly bright) due to my vertex paint issue in Blender.

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

You can raise & lower items with 0 and 9 on your keyboard.

Use the scale up & down feature on your keyboard to make the items larger or smaller to your liking. If you have a non-US keyboard, it may be different keys depending on which alphabet it uses.

Set contains: -Aebleskiver Pan | 1 swatch for cast iron | 759 poly -Aebleskiver Pan Full (with steam & no steam versions) | 1 swatch for cast iron | 1067 poly -Aebleskiver Pan (wall) | 1 swatch for cast iron | 789 poly -Aebleskiver Plate | 9 swatches for plate color | 848 poly -Aebleskiver Sugar Bowl | 2 swatches for spoon color | 334 poly -Bird Sculpture | 9 swatches | 461 poly -Bowl of Fruit | 7 swatches | 502 poly -Ceiling Lamp (for best look in game, turn brightness down) | 8 swatches | 1178 poly -Chair (8 items: is a living chair, each frame color has its own package file) | 8 swatches each | 1160 poly -Cloth for Coffee Table | 8 swatches | 110 poly -Cloth for Dining Table | 8 swatches | 316 poly -Cloth for Lowboard | 8 swatches | 90 poly -Cloth for Shelves | 8 swatches | 90 poly -Coconut Planter | 1 swatch | 1214 poly -Coffee Table | 1 swatches | 870 poly -Curtains (right & left) | 8 swatches each | 575 poly -Dining Table | 8 swatches | 834 poly -Jar of Jam | 6 swatches | 400 poly -Kitchen Valance Curtain | 8 swatches | 527 poly -Lowboard (lots of slots, & slot for TV) | 8 swatches | 552 poly -Mug | 8 swatches | 393 poly -Open Book | 7 swatches | 770 poly -Owl Sculpture | 8 swatches | 772 poly -Ring Dish | 2 swatches for rings color & 7 swatches for plate color, 14 total swatches | 438 poly -Shelves TV Stand (lots of slots, & slot for TV) | 8 swatches | 848 poly -Sofa (8 items: each frame color has its own package file) | 5 swatches for plate color | 3790 poly -Tree Sculpture | 8 swatches | 340 poly

Type “acnh nordic" into the search query in build mode to find  quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing  the title and it will appear.

As always, please let me know if you have any issues! Happy Simming! 💗

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): HERE

📁 Download on Patreon

Will be public on September 30th, 2024 💗 Midnight CET

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my CC is early access. If you like my work, please consider supporting me (all support helps me with managing my chronic pain/illness & things have been rough as of late):

★ Patreon  🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi  ☕️  ❤️ ★ Instagram📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz  @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters  @coffee-cc-finds  @itsjessicaccfinds  @gamommypeach  @stargazer-sims-finds  @khelga68  @suricringe  @vaporwavesims  @mystictrance15 @moonglitchccfinds @xlost-in-wonderlandx @jbthedisabledvet

-Wooden Stool -Dala Horse -Lavender in Vase -Small Wall Frames -Wall Painting -Backsplash -Rug is EA from Cats & Dogs

The rest of my CC

[oflights]

one of our contractors gives us See's chocolate every year and usually it's like the 1 pound boxes (which are incredible and i look forward to them all year) but THIS year i apparently gave them so much business and also helped them win a complicated bid with another team so they sent me, and only me, a 3 pound box of chocolate, and they made sure it was all dark chocolates, and soft centers, because they remembered what my favorites are. i feel blessed and cherished and filled with chocolatey holiday spirit.

[transfemgeorgecostanza]

And I’m not even hungover just tired but after a shower not even that much anymore

[605mod]

Yellow Sofa Much?

[thehistoryvintageantiques]

#226 Mid-Century Grant Mobler 2 Seat Sofa

Vintage Danish 2 Seat Sofa

Denmark 1970’s

Classic mid-century design from Grant Mobler. A 2-seat variation in a cognac-coloured leather with original patina.

A perfect combination of Danish style and function. Just perfect for that special spot in your home.

78H x 157W x 79D cm

[boneless-mika]

I have a billion things I want to do so of course I wake up with a migraine

[buckyalpine]

Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.

Cherry, because that's her favorite.

He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.

He doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.

Bucky was having none of that.

He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.

"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.

"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better

"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-

"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.

"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.

"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.

The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.

"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.

"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.

"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.

Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.

By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.

"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.

Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.

[fyeahhyolyn]

Living Room - Loft-Style

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley X Reader - Cherry Danish

Simon wasn't the talkative type. He was quiet, kept mostly to himself and rarely socialized with the rest of the crew. Save for Johnny. 

Johnny was as close to a friend as Simon could imagine someone being to him. Johnny always tried to talk to him, tell a few jokes to make him laugh, anything to crack that shell. He’d gotten close so many times but could never quite get there. 

However, when Simon returned from Riley’s morning walks, he always seemed a little different. Simon would have a soft look in his eyes, something warm Johnny had never seen before. He swore his lieutenant almost looked happy, if he was even capable of being happy…

One morning, Johnny caught Simon returning with Riley early in the morning, a little paper bag from the local bakery in his grasp. He had that warm look in his eyes again.

“Aye, LT,” Johnny called out. “Ye hev a good craic walking th’ pooch?”

As soon as Simon looks his way, Johnny can see his gaze turn stoney again, his grip on the paperbag tighten just slightly. “Dunno what you’re talking ‘bout Johnny,” he grumbled. 

Simon unhooked Riley’s leash, letting the Shepherd run loose in the station. He set himself down on the too-old couch in the common room and fished out his breakfast, a cherry danish. He found his thoughts briefly wandering to the little thing that handed it to him with that warm smile they always wore. 

“Dinnae take ye fer sweets, Si,” Johnny teased, settling next to him as Simon pulled down his mask to eat. “Ye bring me anyfing?” 

“No,” Simon answered bluntly as he ate. 

“Ye cruel bastard,” Johnny feigned his hurt as he dramatically dropped himself against the back of the couch.

“Too bad,” Simon growled. 

A smirk crossed Johnny’s lips. “Perhaps are shuid pay th’ bakery a visit,” he said, stroking over the stubble on his chin. “See what all th’ fuss is aboot.” He laughed as he felt Simon turn a sharp glare towards him.

[ch6sos]

a/n: this is mainly for black gender neutral readers or those with coily/curly hair but anyone can read :)

Whenever Kento wants to learn something new, he devotes his entire time to it. No, seriously. People around him often ask how he manages to master so many skills, or they gape in awe when they see him in action, because it always looks like he’s a natural. But the truth is, Kento practices—endlessly.

Take cooking, for example. He wasn’t always good at it. His parents were the first to teach him about the importance of basic household skills—especially cooking. They told him, "If you want to survive in the real world, you need to know how to take care of yourself, and cooking is essential."

But his first attempts weren’t smooth at all. He didn’t master stegt flæsk on the first try, nor could he bake the perfect rye bread, or make udon from scratch. In fact, when he first attempted cooking, even the boxed mac and cheese stuck to the pan.

Frustrated but determined, Kento began watching his family closely. He'd observe his mother in the kitchen, occasionally passing her ingredients or awkwardly chopping vegetables. He read cookbooks, borrowed recipes from his grandmother—learning both Japanese and Danish dishes, and followed each step carefully—getting the right ingredients, measurements, and temperatures just right.

That’s how Kento approached every skill he became interested in—whether it was fencing, archery, learning to play the violin, or pottery. He would buy all the necessary equipment, immerse himself in content about it, and fixate on it until he was satisfied with his skill level—like a Sim locked into a single task.

So, when Kento started dating someone with coily hair, he applied the same method.

He noticed how much time they spent on their hair—the hours dedicated to braiding, curling, and washing. He wasn’t the type of partner to just sit back and watch, especially when they were feeling tired.

He went into research mode: watching videos, reading articles, and practicing. Whenever he had time off from work, he’d be on his couch, blue light glasses perched on his nose, eyes glued to YouTube tutorials explaining how to care for coily hair—the products to use, the best protective hairstyles, and the time required for proper maintenance.

He’d search on his Samsung, scrolling through article after article written by people with coily hair, trying to understand how he could help make their routine a bit easier.

One day, his partner caught him with a mannequin head in his lap, his legs crossed on the couch, glasses slipping down his nose, fingers moving as he tried to braid from the scalp down. His brows were furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Kento, what are you doing?” they chuckled, glancing at the mannequin on his lap.

He let out a small huff, not annoyed but a little sheepish. “I’m trying to learn how to braid, or at least take care of hair.”

They laughed softly, seeing his frustration as he undid yet another braid that wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you practice on me?”

“I don’t want to ruin your hair,” he replied, frowning as he started over again, still a bit clumsy but improving.

“I’ll teach you,” they offered, amusement in their voice, touched by how much he wanted to get it right.

Kento’s eyes lit up in excitement, as if he’d forgotten that watching them take care of their own hair was the best lesson he could get. "That’d be great," he said with a lazy grin, pushing his glasses up.

For the next few weeks, they taught him everything—how they followed their daily hair routine, how they carefully braided and styled their hair, and how long it took to recreate certain looks. Kento watched intently, always hesitating before touching their hair, afraid he might mess something up. But with gentle encouragement, he grew more confident.

Eventually, he learned enough to help out. On days when they were tired, Kento would sit them down, placing pillows beneath them, and take over. He’d part their hair with a comb, splitting it into neat sections, his hands gentle as he worked, always mindful not to tug too hard. They’d both watch a silly reality show on TV while he braided or styled their hair.

He even learned how to wash it delicately, stepping into the shower with them to help massage their scalp and rinse out the conditioner. He bought the right products, ensuring they always had what they needed. Sometimes, he’d try new hairstyles on them—ones even they hadn’t thought of—just to keep things interesting.

For Kento, it wasn’t just about learning a new skill. He loved spending that quality time together, knowing that every effort he made to help them made a difference. And in those quiet, intimate moments, he felt truly happy.

[bratdotcom]

Baby I'm Yours ♡

( RE2r!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || baking cookies but not getting much done because ur bf is very very sleepy || this rookie is trying his best ♡ re2r fluff for anon ♡ )

“Leon,” you chuckle, smiling as your eyes peer down at the bowl of batter he was supposed to be mixing. “You're mixing the air, not the bowl.” You point out, gesturing down to the bowl. He was still mixing the air, spoon not near the batter. Not by a long shot. Leon seemed out of it, head in the clouds all droopy eyed. Just what was he thinking about?

“Hey! Hey! Leon, I'm talking to you!” You say, waving your hand in his face. You knew working at the RPD was stressful, endless amounts of paperwork, and all that, but was it really that stressful enough to make Leon sleep while standing up? In the kitchen? Of all places?

Leon blinks, realizing your hand is in his face. “Oh shit, sorry.” He quickly apologizes, yawning softly. “The senior officers are just…too much for me.” He says, his focus on mixing the batter in the bowl in front of him. He sounded tired and looked tired, too, if it wasn't evident by the sleepy look in his eyes. “They're just peachy, aren't they? Been in the force too long?” You joke, trying to lift the mood.

“Don't worry your head, Scotty, they're just old geezers too long in office - probably rode dinosaurs or something to school.” You add as you shrug. Leon snickers, almost dropping the spoon he was holding in his hand.

“If Chief Irons heard ya you'd be dead meat, one of those stuffed animals he has in his room - it isn't the stuffed animal you're thinking of, by the way.” Your grimace at what Leon was implying, whatever it was, it didn't sound too pretty. “Oh god, do you mean..?” You trail off, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. Leon seems to brighten up, amused by your reaction. “Not the cute kind, definitely.” He chuckles, placing the mixing bowl to the side.

“The type you'd find in a museum. I don't know why he likes those things so much. He sure is peachy.” Just like you said, Leon agreed wholeheartedly. He didn't want to admit it, but he had a habit of soaking in whatever vocabulary you threw at him. Leon was regurgitating whatever you said in a sweetly, somewhat mimicking way. Like the way he quoted movies. Lucky you, even if you didn't notice it at all. Leon remembered the little things, or, at least, he tried.

“I finished mixing the batter…” He trails off, staring blankly at the bowl of dough like he was trying to see his own reflection in it. His blues gazed into the wheaty dough like he was trying to peer into a mirror. He, of course, couldn't. “What are we making again?” He asks as he peers into the bowl. He tilts his head. Maybe if he looked at it sideways, it'd make sense?

“Raspberry danishes, your favorite, remember?” You reply, taking the bowl from him. “Just sit pretty on the couch, okay bubba? You deserve a break.” You say, kissing his cheek. He looks up at you, eagerly nodding his head. Leon kind of wished he had a mirror now. He could feel his cheeks heating up as soon as your lips pulled away from his cheek. Bubba? That was new.

He glanced at the living room, then back at your face. You looked as though nothing had happened. As if you didn't just kiss him on the cheek.

Leon turns around, padding to the living room without saying a word. Besides a small mumbling ‘thank you’. He wasn't a monster, after all. He had manners.

He traces over where you kissed him, still the green behind-the-ears rookie he was back at the station. Even when it came to love. Especially when it came to loving you. You seemed to remember the little things, too.

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Part 21

“Magda... let go of her so we can have dinner” Pernille said for the fifth time rolling her eyes

“Just a second” the swede waved off pulling you into another room “... that was in Australia... we were on holiday and visited this Kangaroo sanctuary... they had a lot of little ones..”

“Magdalena Lilly Eriksson... NU!!” the Danish woman said annoyed losing her patience

“Jag ville bara...” Magda started turning around to be met with an angry looking Pernille

“... and I don't care... dinner table... now” Pernille sneered pointing towards the table

“I was just being” the swede started to argue but stopped talking immediately after her girlfriend lifted her eyebrow in challenge

Magda quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you with her to the dining room and unceremonially hauled you on a chair and plonked down next to you

“I don't think so...” you heard Pernilles voice behind you as you saw Magda flinch out of the corner of your eye

“But... I want to sit next to her” Magda whined knowing immediately what Pernille was referring to

“What about Georgia... maybe she wants to sit next to her girlfriend” the Danish mused

“She has her all the time” the blonde swede whined

“That's not true!!” your girlfriend exclaimed from the hallway

“Magda!” Pernille sneered harshly pushing her girlfriend not so lightly

“Man” Magda huffed but gave her chair up for Georgia to take the chair opposite of it

“Thank you” the blonde Dane scoffed and everyone knew she wasn't serious

“Yeah... thank you Magda” Georgia grinned knowing she could count on Pernille to have her back... or not

“Don't start a fight Stanway” Pernille said seriously

“I just thanked her” your girlfriend defended herself but couldn't keep the smirk of her face

“Save it...” the Dane scoffed “... and I swear if anyone starts throwing food again..” she looked warning at her and your girlfriend

“Yes ma'am” Georgia mumbled ashamed and Magda looked down guilty

“Good... wine anyone?” Pernille smiled happily and you shivered while your girlfriend snorted

“No thank you” you politely declined

“Come on Bronzey... you can have one... we won't tell on you” Magda said grinning

“It's not that” you said as you tried to not heave

“Drunky over here got drunk on red wine last night...” your girlfriend grinned and laid her arm around you on your backrest

“Look at that... and here I thought you were a responsible one” Pernille mused raising her eyebrow at you

“You know the people I grew up with right?” you snorted “Aside from that... I didn't think it would hit me like a Millie”

“Millie?” the blonde swede opposite of Georgia asked confused

“Bright... Brickwall” your girlfriend translated still grinning

“I mean I felt like nothing when I sipped it...” you shrugged your shoulder “... then we sat on the couch and bam.. good night”

“Oh no no... not good night... good night was after Alexia Putellas told you” Georgia laughed and you winced getting reminded of all the laps you will have to run once back in Barcelona

“Alexia Putellas?” Magda said shocked and impressed at the same time

“Yeah... I'm gonna run so many laps for that” you whined “... so many laps”

“Oh stop whining...” Pernille chuckled as she put a bottle of water in front of you “... you're young – you're bound to do stupid things”

“It's Alexia Putellas were talking about...” you looked at her intensely “She's worse than Renard when it comes to stuff like that”

“You played with Wendie Renard?” the swede perked up

“I played with no one” you grumbled and felt how Georgia started to stroke her thumb along the underside of your shoulder blade in a soothing manner “Lucy played with her in Lyon... I might have visited her.. I might got lost in Lyon and Lucy might brought Wendie along to collect me from the police because she didn't speak French so well... Wendie made me run two laps...”

“How are you always getting lost? But good to know I'm not the only one losing you” your girlfriend huffed

“What... you thought you special?” you snorted “The only one who HASN'T lost me is Keira...”

“How?” Magda asked confused

“I'm small.. it's easy” you shrugged your shoulders

“No... the other how?” the blonde swede clarified

“Oh... I just get distracted easily... and then drift off in a different direction” you explained smiling innocently “But that's how I learned “My sister is Lucy Bronze please don't call her she's going to kill me dead” in French”

This made the three blondes burst out laughing and Pernille started to dish out food which you eyed curiously

“What's that?” you asked interested

“Karbonader” Pernille said smiling as she saw you inspect the traditional Danish dish “It's a Danish dish... it's basically a patty made from pork and veal the covered with breadcrumbs and fried...”

“Is it like... spicy?” you asked carefully still inspecting the dish

“Not at all... it's only seasoned with a little salt and pepper...” the blonde Dane smiled “... try it.. if you don't like it I get you something else okay?”

“Okay...” you said and tried a small piece before your eyes lit up and you started to basically shove the whole patty into your mouth

Pernille laughed heart-warmingly as you already stabbed your fork into the next patty but not stopping at one but stabbed a second one on your fork as well

“You don't have to horde Søde... there are more than enough” the Dane laughed at your actions

“This stuff is good” you shot back with your mouth full barely chewing

“I'm sorry... she's a Bronze....” Georgia looked at Pernille apologetic “... I'm happy that she's at least chewing.... Bronzes normally don't chew... it's fascinating really”

“Not even I can eat like this” Magda said bewildered watching you as you jabbed another patty

“Søde... slowly... there are enough Karbonader for everyone... eat some potatoes too...” the blonde Dane laughed but you could here the slight strict tone

“Potatoes stuff up.... if I eat potatoes now I will be done in like... 15 minutes” you answered while chewing another Karbonader

“I don't feel good” you whined and groaned as you were laying spread out on the harderssons couch

“You ate 85% of the stuff yourself... of course you don't feel good...” your girlfriend laughed as she lifted your head to sit down and let your head down in her lap

“Why didn't you stop me then??” you whined as Georgia started to scratch your head lightly

“I TRIED!!! THREE times!!” G defended herself and you heard someone chuckle

“I'm happy I could fascinate you with the Danish cuisine Søde” Pernille chuckled as she followed Georgia and you into her living room sipping on a glass of wine

“Next time I cook” Magda promised smiling widely

“No you won't” Pernille said nonchalantly

“Next time I won't cook... I get Becks to cook... or Frido... you know Frido right?” the swede just kept on talking like her girlfriend didn't just casually forbid her cooking

“She the Barca swede right?” you groaned as you rolled on your side your head still in Georgias lap

“The Barca swede.... she's one of the best players in the world!!” Magda exclaimed shocked

“My sister was runner up to Pinoe in the Ballon d'Or 2019... and you talk about best player in the world” you mumbled but loud enough for everyone to hear

“So was Pernille” the blonde swede grinned smugly

“Magda stop” the Dane looked embarrassed

“You were runner up to Pinoe?” you asked confused looking at the blonde who laughed at your confused face

“No Søde... the year prior...” Pernille chuckled but clearly a little uncomfortable

“Who won?” you asked in awe

“Ada... Hegerberg...” the Dane looked at your childish excitement with a soft smile

“Ada?? That old hag??” you exclaimed your eyes wide as Georgia and Magda bursted out laughing

“Ada is 3 Years younger than I am....” Pernille said dryly

“You as ancient as Luce?? You don't look that ancient” you said with wide eyes

“Lucy is a year older but... thank you?” the Dane didn't know how to react

“Welcome to “Complements 101 by y/n Bronze” … if she likes you she complements you... if she really REALLY likes you it's gonna backhand you with her complement” your girlfriend laughed

“My complements are not backhanded!” you exclaimed

“They are... you congratulated me AND called me old at the same time Søde” Pernille deadpanned

“Am I wrong?” you asked which caused Magda to burst out laughing at the offended face of her girlfriend

“I am still playing on a world class level” the Dane huffed

“I didn't say otherwise... but you not 24 anymore” you shrugged as your girlfriends hand moved to scratch your neck lightly

“I dare you to try and get the ball of me at training” Pernille looked straight at you

“I'm not a defender... I'm not a midfielder... I'm not a forward... I'm not a anything” you said as you melted into Georgias body

“You forget one thing Søde... football is your blood...” the Dane said softly

“Not anymore it isn't... it was for a long time...” you sighed

“We'll get you back on the ball Søde... I saw clips of you playing... even if you can't play professionally anymore... you still need it” Pernille said softly and you saw that she didn't want to push you more then encourage you to get back to the thing you love

“We'll see” you mumbled as you relaxed under the soothing scratching of Georgias fingernails

“She's dead asleep isn't she?” Pernille whispered a few minutes later watching your chest rise and fall calmly

“She is” Georgia confirmed after glancing down at you quickly

“I'm not sure if I pushed her too hard just now” the blonde Dane looked a little bit guilty

“You didn't.... if you did you would've noticed... trust me” your girlfriend snorted

“What do you mean?” Magda asked now watching how your face got even softer as you drifted off deeper and deeper into your dream world

“Leah tried to push her once... y/n had a complete meltdown... so bad we had to get Keira on the phone to calm her down... It took Kei three hours to get her to calm down enough so we could actually enter the room she barricaded her in” Georgia spoke lowly

“What the actual fuck?” Magda looked shocked

“When she get's pushed too far or to hard she just shuts down...” your girlfriend shrugged her shoulders “... but maybe this is what she needs... a little push from Pernille Harder”

“G... I trust you to tell me when she gets overwhelmed.... she's too precious to hurt her further” Pernille looked sternly at her teammate

“I will... I love her you know... I don't ever want to see her as hurt ever again... but I also want to see her on a ball again... this is hurting her too... not playing I mean” Georgia said looking down on your sleeping form

“Oh we can see that” Magda seriously says “... we saw her one day after training when we were leaving – she tricks around a little bit but it was just....”

“... mesmerizing... that's what Keira always calls it...” your girlfriend help the blonde swede out knowing exactly what Magda means

“Yes... exactly that” Magda exclaimed and immediately get hit by her girlfriend when she saw how you flinched in your sleep

“You wanna stay over? I don't know how she is with getting up when she's sleeping.. Magda is a nightmare” Pernille asked smiling slightly when you pushed your nose a little further into Georgias leg

“She's an absolute pest to wake up... but thanks... I'll wake her up in a few minutes... what's on the plan for tomorrow?” your girlfriend said smirking

“Your call G.. we have a guest room and Magda would be happy to set it up for you” the blonde Dane grinned

“I'm what??” the swede asked confused

“You would be happy to set up the guest room for these two... wouldn't you?” Pernille looked at her girlfriend raising her eyebrow

“Ehrm... sure... I'm very skilled in setting up guest rooms” Magda said unsure

“Thanks but I'll just shove her in the back seat and then carry her inside when we're home” Georgia laughed as she started to wake you up by poking your side gently

You just grunted and tried to crawl even deeper into your girlfriends body

“Come on sleepy... let's get home shall we?” your girlfriend chuckled

“Nooooo...” you whined after a few more pokes “... leave me”

“Come on... up you get” Georgia nudged you a little firmer

“Geeeee...” you whined

“Yes... come on... P and Mags want to go to bed to” your girlfriend said as she pushed you up into a sitting position

“Yeah well... then they should go home and not hang around here” you said still half asleep which caused Pernille to burst out laughing

“WE have to go home...” Georgia laughed as you started to wake up a little more

“Why... we are home?” you slurred sleepily

“We are not home... Pernille and Magda a home... we're not home” your girlfriend stated gently

“Well.... why don't we go home then?” you asked confused not able to follow your girlfriends mind

“Because you keep from going home” Georgia chuckled “... come on Baby... up you get”

“Can't we just stay here?” you whined trying to fight Georgias hands who tried to pull you into a standing position while Pernille had to bite her lip really hard to not burst out laughing

“We have a perfect Bed at home and I don't want to listen to get Magda and P get it on” your girlfriend groaned pulling your dead weight up

“Pernille can be quite loud” Magda mused

“And you will pay for that comment” the Dane smiled sweetly making her girlfriend swallow hard

“Come on Baby... a little help” Georgia groaned again

“I help... I'm quarter awake” you slurred

“You can always stay G” Pernille offered again seeing how your girlfriend struggled to hold you upright

“If you maybe.... can drive us?” your girlfriend smiled at her teammate desperately

“Just stay G.... I promise Magda will keep her hands to herself” the blonde Dane said softly

“I'm what?” the swede looked confused

“Are you actually able to do that or do you want to take Bronways place on the couch?” Pernille looked at her girlfriend in challenge

“Bronway?” Georgia asked confused shaking her head lightly

“You really should keep up with hashtags... Bronze.... Stanway... Bronway” the Dane shrugged her shoulders before looking at Magda again “Bed or couch?”

“Bed” Magda mumbled looking down grumpily

“Thank you” Pernille smiled sweetly

“See... the better blonde said we could stay... take me to bed” you mumbled against your girlfriend

“We don't have any clothes here...” your girlfriend pointed out

“I'll just wear yours” you nuzzled your girlfriends neck

“Okay...” Georgia huffed out “.... thank you Pernille for having us”

“No problem” Pernille laughed seeing how whipped G is for you

“Good morning” Pernille smiled at you as you stumbled into her kitchen wearing some boxer shorts and your girlfriends shirt

“Nuh-uh” you grunted pawing at the Danes coffee cup

“I understand....” the blonde chuckled giving up her own cup and getting herself a new one

“What's thank you in dananish?” you mumbled into your coffee cup

“Tak skal du have” Pernille said smiling at your bewildered face

“Tak scandal you have? What scandal?” you looked so confused that the Dane couldn't hold back her laughter

“Tak skal du have....” the Dane spoke slower so you could get the pronunciation right

“Yeah no... keep your scandal... I have enough of that in me life” you waved off plopping down on one of the chairs

“I bet... I imagine it's hard to grow up being Lucy Bronze sister” the blonde said softly refilling your cup

“It's not... but Lucy is after Keira the best thing that happened to me... she never forgot about me... she always included me... every win, every loss...” you mumbled into your cup

“Where's Georgia ranked?” Pernille asked smiling

“Same step as Lucy... don't tell Luce... she'll try to push G off” you said lowly before taking another sip

“Your sister not happy with your relationship?” the blonde asked and you felt that she was genuinely interested

“Not really no... that's why I'm here right now... Lucy was not fair to G and I didn't really want to be around her right now” you whispered biting your lip

“She'll come around... it just takes some time...” Pernille said softly stroking over your wild hair

“You don't know her... she a rhino if she wants to be... ramming through everything that's in her way” you mumbled

“But she wants to see you happy... she wants to know you save” the blonde chuckled at your description of your sister

“Then she should pull the stick out of her ass and show me that she wants to see me happy” you grumbled

“She will” Pernille said before Magda and Georgia entered the kitchen and it was quickly decided that you all would go out for breakfast.

“Babe... we need to get goin” Georgia yelled towards your bedroom

“Yeah....” you yelled back “I don't have anything to wear!”

“You have half a wardrobe!!” your girlfriend yelled back already on her way to the bedroom

“What do one wear for an event like this anyway?” you looked lost at your girlfriend who just appeared in the doorway

“It's Pride Baby... you could go naked and no one would care... I mean... I would care... a lot actually.... and probably Lucy and Keira would care too... and Alexia Putellas.. so... don't go naked please... just wear some shorts and a shirt... something you feel comfortable in” Georgia said smiling

“WHICH shirt... WHICH shorts....” you exclaimed annoyed pointing at the bed where a whole pile of clothes was laying

“Dear Jesus... since when are you so picky when it comes to clothes?” your girlfriend rolled her eyes pulling out a shirt and some shorts from the pile “Here... wear that”

“WHAT????? That doesn't even fit” you squeaked

“It does... shorts...” Georgia held up the shorts “... shirt” she held up the shirt “... works”

“It's red and pink....” you pointed out “... even I know that doesn't work”

“Then... this shirt...” your girlfriend pulled out another shirt

“Black??? On happy parade day??” you questioned her choice

“Okay you know what... no shirt... bikini top” Georgia said clapping her hands not knowing what else to do

“Uuuuhhh... good idea Babe” you smiled happily pulling out a dark blue bikini top

“I know... I just have good ideas” your girlfriend smiled proudly at her solution

“You're dating a Bronze... not sure if that's a good idea” you yelled from the bathroom where you were occupied tying up the top

“That wasn't my idea but okay...” Georgia mumbled

“What?” you yelled not hearing her

“I said that was me best idea so far!!” your girlfriend yelled back as you appeared in the doorway

“I know...” you smiled pressing a kiss to her cheek “... shoes”

“Normal Nikes.. no flip flops... there will be a lot of glass and I don't want to spend me evening in the ER where you get stiches” Georgia said holding out a pair of Nike Dunk High in Dark blue matching the bikini top

“Thanks” you smiled taking the shoes from her hand putting them on “.... come on now Babe... we're going to be late”

You were sitting next to Pernille watching the Bayern girls having a friendly against a small club who was apparently on the outskirts of Munich as a little test game since there where some new Players like Lena Oberdorf and Alex wanted to try some new things – also in hindsight to the upcoming Champions League games. You were rather bored already seeing multiple things the team needs to work on just from the first 20 minutes of play. Lena was an outstanding young player and you kinda clicked with her – she was very reserved but had an amazing humor which you immediately picked up on. The two of you shared multiple insiders – mostly regarding towards Magda who was somehow immune to dark dry humor. You also saw how your girlfriend kinda tried to click with Lena on the field but somehow had her reservations about the young talent. You knew exactly what was going on – Georgia was jealous. She would never admit it but you saw right through her. Even tho you assured her that Lena was just a friend and you two only clicked over your shared love of making fun of Magda your girlfriend grumbled along when you two shared another laugh.

“God this needs to get a little more interesting or I'm gonna fall asleep” you mumbled next to the blonde Dane who just chuckled

“The girls from Obermenzing are playing amazing” Pernille pointed out and you hummed in agreement

“I didn't mean them... I meant your team... midfield fucks up quiet a bit” you said “... they don't connect with the backline and also not to the front.... it's embarrassing to watch it”

“It's not that bad.... and that's exactly why we have these games... to try new things” the blonde smiled starting to gently scratch your neck already figured out it always calms you down

“It is THAT bad!!!” you exclaimed before you threw your arms up “COME ON G.... WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT???!!”

“I can't wait until you have a trainer license” Pernille laughed as the new players looked over to your yelling and the ones who already knew you hung their head low while Alex turned away from the field laughing quietly

“You wanna take over?” the man asked you a big smile plastered on his face

“Better not... I would kick their asses into next century and it's just a test game” you grumbled before jumping up “MAGDA!!!! STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR WIFES PUS...”

Pernille slapped her hand so fast over your mouth that you stumbled back a little bit

“I swear Søde... I'll will lock you inside if you don't calm down a bit.... no actually... if you don't calm down a LOT” the Dane sneered under her breath

“It's not my fault YOUR wife....” you grumbled under Ps hand

“Girlfriend.... she doesn't get her shit together so she'll still my girlfriend” Pernille huffed and you started to chuckle

“So you want to be her wife?” you smirked as Pernille finally released you again

“Of course... but I'm not gonna be the one asking... that's her job... I already asked her to be my girlfriend...” the Dane shrugged her shoulders

“I'll let her know” you smirked as the blonde pulled you into her side

“You can give her a hint.... don't you dare tell her drop down on her knee” the blonde said seriously “... she can use her brain”

“I can also kick her in the back of the knee and push a ring into her hand...” you chuckled which made Pernille laughed out loud

“I said a hint... not doing everything for her” the blonde laughed

“GEORGIA MARIE STANWAY!!!! YOUR TEAM PLAYS IN READ NOT IN WHITE/BLUE!!! ARE YOU SUDDENLY COLOR BLIND???” you suddenly exclaimed seeing how your girlfriend messed up another pass and she looked over to you ashamed shrugging her shoulders apologetic

“Full name? It's just a test game” Pernille chuckled

“I don't care.... that was an amateur mistake.... I don't tolerate amateur mistakes” you grumbled

“I wouldn't want to have you as a trainer... you need to calm down søde” the Dane said calmly

“What I need is for this team to pull the stick out of their asses and start playing” you grumbled your face dark

“Just a test game... not the Champions League final....” Pernille tried to calm you down

“If you guys play like this you'll never reach the final... Barca will eat you for Lunch” you said seriously “... and I don't want that... I want you to upset them... I want that you make them work...”

“We'll challenge that problem when we get there.. now lean back and enjoy all the ways Magda and Georgia play like they never saw a ball before” the Dane smiled softly

It was just after the second half started where you leaped out of your seat already on your way onto the field when Pernille grabbed your middle holding you back. Your girlfriend laid on the grass her face scrunched up in pain holding her knee

“Let me go” you fought Pernilles grip around your torso

“I can't... you can't go there right now...” the Dane whispered next to your ear

“That looked bad P... I need to...” you said your eyes never leaving your girlfriend as the team docs already kneeled down next to her starting their routine

“She's okay... she's okay søde” Pernille repeated into your ear her grip never faltering

“What if's...” you chocked out

“It's not.... calm down... she's okay” the Dane said calmly “They'll get her off for precaution but she's okay”

“If she walks off I'll kick that knee” you said seriously but Pernille knew it was your way of coping with the scare you just had

“And I'll let you... but look... she accepts the help from the guys” the Dane slightly tilted your head so you can watch your girlfriend hobbling off the field held up by two of the physios

“I need...” you immediately tried to follow but again got held back by Pernille

“Give them a few minutes to check her trough...” the blonde said calmly while Linda gets on the field replacing Georgia

“But...” you said helplessly

“I'll bring you to her as soon as they let us okay... but right now they need the space to work properly” Pernille stayed calm for your sake

“I just....” you tried again and again the Dane interrupted you

“I know... but right now you would be in the way... she probably just twisted it.. I know what you're fearing but it's not...” the blonde said seriously finally loosening the grip around your torso

15 Minutes later which felt like hours to you one of the physios appeared in the tunnel nodding towards Pernille who sat next to you letting you squeeze her hand so hard that she feared you'd break it. The blonde slightly nudged you signaling you to stand up and go with the physio but to her big surprise you pulled her with you. So Pernille followed you as you slowly approached the tunnel your fears getting the best of your

“Go on Søde... it's okay... Gs okay...” the blonde gently pushed you forward using her whole body

“I'm scared P....” you mumbled

“No need to be... she's okay....” Pernille said softly pushing you further down into the tunnel towards the medical room

“Promise me she's okay...” you mumbled still refusing to walk forward probably so the Dane pushed you

“I Promise Søde....” the blonde whispered and you took a tentative step towards the door looking at her for help “... just go I there... I need to get back to yell at Magda in your name okay”

“Okay...” you nodded but Pernille saw how your hands were trembling

“What's the diagnosis” you asked your voice cracking

"Hey Baby...” Georgia said the second you stepped through the door into the barely lit room

“Overstretched one of the tendons... nothing bad... two weeks of resting and crutches for a week and I'm as good as new...” your girlfriend answered calmly knowing where your thoughts went immediately

“Thank fuck...” you breathed out in relief and before you could stop them tears were running down your cheeks “... you can't do that G... you can't go down clutching your knee... clutch your ankle or head or wrist... but you can't clutch your knee... please”

“Come here Baby...” Georgia held her hand out still laying on the treatment bed her knee covered in two big ice packs and you waited until she wriggled her fingers at you before you took the step towards her “... another one... come to me Baby”

“I...” you chocked out

“I'm okay... come to me Baby...” your girlfriend said softly knowing why you were so hesitant

You finally made your way over to her and the second her hand closed around yours you broke down and if it wasn't for G reacting so quickly and closing her arms around you you would have found yourself on the floor

“It's okay Baby... I've got you and everything is okay” Georgia whispered pulling you up and on the bed next to her

“You just can't do that G... you just can't” you whimpered into her neck while she held you closely to her side

“I'm sorry Baby.... but everything is okay... I promise... you just have to hold open the doors for me now...” your girlfriend tried to lighten the mood as she pressed sweet kisses to your forehead

“The fuck I will... you can use your ass to open doors” you mumbled as you clinged to her frame “... I used my ass so you can too”

“You do have a nice ass...” Georgia smirked squeezing your ass making you squeal

After an amazing Day where you met even more amazing people you were laying in your girlfriends arms on her couch in her small Munich apartment watching a mens game as it suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks and you couldn’t stop the tears escaping your eyes. First Georgia didn’t seem to notice as she had her arms tightly around you, your head on her chest. Just as your silent tears soaked through her shirt she looked down at you to find you crying

“I know the men are playing bad Baby… but you don’t have to cry” she tried to lighten the mood but that only made you cry harder.

You choked out a heartbreaking sob as you accepted internally that there was no use in holding it back anymore. Your body shook with every sob as you fell into to the depth of your hurting

“hey… hey” Georgia said a slight panic in her voice as she tried to figure out what wad happening “what’s wrong babe… talk to me”

“It hurts G… it hurts so much” you choked out not having the strength in you to explain further.

“what hurts baby… please… tell me… I can help” your girlfriend asked as she was on the verge of tears herself seeing you like this

You just shook your head somehow trying to tell her you just can’t talk as a new wave of sobs made it out of your throat and you started to feel how breathing became a problem

“Okay… okay… you need to calm down and breathe for me baby” Georgia tried her best to calm you down (and stay calm herself) but she saw quickly that it was no use

“Lucy or Keira… Lucy or keira” she mumbled to herself as she thought about who to call

After the fifth time the woman she call FINALLY picked up

“I swear to God Stanway if my sis…” Lucy answered the phone being in Barcelona at a gym session for Georgia to interrupt her quickly

“She’s crying Lucy… she’s crying so bad and she hardly takes a breath and I don’t know what to do” your girlfriend rambled the panic in her voice returning as you held onto her shirt for dear life

“Face time” was the only thing Lucy said before hanging up and seconds later Georgias phone rang with a face time request.

She immediately accepted the request and as soon as Lucys sweaty face appeared on the screen she angled the phone so Lucy could see her sister.

Lucys heart broke the second she saw her baby sister sobbing heartbreakingly clutching to Georgia as if her life would end without the physical contact her girlfriend provided. Your face was red from crying your eyes puffy and Lucy would swear on her life that she saw a little blue tint on your lips from oxygen deprivation.

“Hey… hey Bubs” your Sister spoke softly as she tried to get your attention “Bubs I need you to breath…. Deep breaths”

Just like before as Georgia tried you didn’t react except for sobbing out choked flat breaths.

Georgia could see the movement on the screen as Lucy left the Gym to have more peace and quiet – you on the other hand just kept on sobbing

“Lucy… what… what can I do?” your girlfriend asked helplessly as she tried to pull you even closer.

“You’re doing great G… just…. Keep holding her… use those arm sessions they make us do every camp and hold her… I’m on my way” Lucy said encouraging hoping to calm Georgia down a bit “but I need to know what happened”

“I…. I… I don’t know” your girlfriend stuttered repositioning both of you so you were sitting up your head no in the crook of her neck continuing to cry “… we were just laying on the couch watching a game and suddenly she started crying… I tried to make a joke about how the men weren’t THAT bad and she just completely broke down”

“It’s okay G… I knew that day would come and I’m sorry for not talking to you about it… giving you a heads up… but you’re doing good… just try and get her to breath” your sister said already signaling Alexia she needs to talk to her

“Breath for me baby… I know you can… concentrate on me and my breathing” Georgia murmured into your hair as she pulled you closer.

You took a few shallow breaths before returning to just basically choke on the air

“That was good baby… you need to do it again” Georgia started to stroke your back hoping you would find comfort in the simple action “one more time baby” she whispered against your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it

You started to calm down the tiniest of bit taking another shallow breath

“Good… you’re doing so good” your girlfriend mumbled against the crown of your hair “take another breath baby… I know it’s hard but you can do it”

“G… I need to go… I promise I’m on my way…. Just… hang in there G… you’re doing great as well you know... I’m there as soon as possible… text me your address” Lucy said and Georgia nodded before ending the call to concentrate on you.

Slowly – very VERY slowly – you started to calm down enough to take a real breath. You still were clinging to Georgia, her shirt (and neck) soaked in tears but hell she wouldn’t let go of you for all that was holy to her.

On the other end Lucy just reached Alexia

“What can I do for you Lucia?” the blonde asked seeing her friend and teammate in distress

“I need some time off… can’t tell you for how long” Lucy said her voice lined with stress and anxiety

“May I ask why? We have some important games coming up” Alexia asked confused knowing Lucy would never skip games

“Family emergency” your sister just said looking at her friend trying to bring her point across

“Go” was the only thing Alexia said as she caught up on the fact who this “family emergency” was about “I’ll talk to everyone just go…”

“Thanks Alexia” Lucy yelled over her shoulder as she ran back to the gym quickly gathering her stuff

All of her teammates looked at her confused and it was Mapí who spoke up

“What’s the hurry Lucy… is there an all you can eat buffet we don’t know about?” the tattooed woman joked and earned a few laughs from some teammates

“Family emergency” was the short answer before she looked up and met Keiras eyes just for a second but it was enough.

“I’m coming with you” the blonde englishwoman said determinant as she too started to grab her stuff

“You can’t… I just talked to capi for some days off and…” Lucy started but got interrupted quickly

“… and nothing… I don’t care…. I’m coming with you… they can fine me or kick me off the team but I won’t let you go alone… someone needs to look after G as well… poor girl is probably freaking out” Keira said and Lucy knew there was no way in hell her ex would stay put

“I’ll drive you book the flights” your sister simply said as she turned around to Ona “I’m sorry… I…. I be back soon”

“Just make sure she’s okay and don’t come back without her” the spaniard just said knowing from the second Lucy looked at Keira who they were talking about

“I’ll try…. But I don’t think she’ll come here without G” your sister offering a small smile

“Then bring her too… she’ll fit right into our team” Ona also had a small smile on her lips

“OH shit…” Mapí exclaimed finally catching on “… I’m coming too…”

“No you’re not" Alexia said sternly just entering the gym “this is a family matter that doesn’t concern you”

“But..” Mapí said desperately

“No but María León…” Alexia shot her a glare – the infamous captain glare before turning towards Lucy and Keira “why are you still here?”

“Already leaving” Lucy said as she already was halfway through the door

Lucy pulled out her phone to call Georgia back to find a message from her “She calmed down… won’t answer any calls don’t want to set her off again … here’s my address – second floor, go right when you come up, second door… my neighbor had a key and I texted her to let her know you’ll come and pick up the key”

“Okay… I can work with that” Lucy mumbled as she texted Georgia back “call me if you need anything..”

“Next flights out is in an hour…” Keira looked up from her phone as the two reached Lucys car “… and they’re not cheap”

“I don’t care – book them… here’s my card” Lucy answered as she slipped into the drivers seat opening her wallet and giving Keira her credit card

“I can pay for my own flight” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Just… book them woman” your sister said annoyed as she maneuvered her car into the traffic and towards the airport

Meanwhile in Munich you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of Georgia who retreated to stroke your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hair while she help you as tight as possible without hurting you. Your breathing was nearly back to normality but you still hadn’t moved your head from the crook of her neck. The silence between you was immensely calming to you just feeling your girlfriends love and presence without pushing you to talk.

“Music?” G whispered lowly not to startle you

As you nodded your head against her neck she moved a little to get the remote for the stereo which caused you to grab her shirt tighter again

“Not going anywhere Baby” the blonde whispered “just need to grab the remote – know you don’t like the quiet too much”

It were the little things like this that made you fall even more for her. Georgia might be loud and aggressive on the pitch and even louder after a win in the locker room but she notice the little things about you. How you prefer your coffee out of the same cup every morning for months before choosing a new cup. How you prefer the one brand of chocolate spread for breakfast over the other one. How you need your 20 minutes of peace in the morning before you were approachable. How you always stole her old England shirt and every time you visited it conveniently appearing on top in your drawer. How you love her hugs when both of you get home – just the two of you without the world watching. How her eyes always find you in a sold out stadium. How she looks at you like you’re the only person in the world even when you’re surrounded by 90.000 fans. Or just now how she knows you can’t stand the silence around you and starting her calming Spotify Playlist without needing to ask what you need to hear – all these things and more make you fall for her over and over again. But right now you needed Lucy – Lucy and Keira.

You don't know how much time passed before you distantly heard the front door of Gs apartment open and seconds later you got pulled off your girlfriend. You were startled for a second before a familiar scent hit your nose and all these feelings bubbled to the top again and you started to sob into Lucys neck as you clinged to her for dear life

“It's okay Bubs... I'm here now... I'm here” Lucy squeezed you against her getting the two of you away from Georgia and Keira who immediately went to her best friends side for support

“It hurts so much Luce... I wanna play again... I want to play and feel free... I want to feel the grass and the ball and the adrenalin when scoring” you cried into your sisters neck

“I know Bubs.. I know...” your sister just whispered as she laid down on the bed pulling you into her side while you simply can't stop crying

“I don't know what happened Kei...” Georgia was still in utter shock when Keira pulled her into the kitchen starting to make a tea for both of them “... suddenly she just.... I don't know”

“It's okay G.... you did everything right... we knew this day would come and I'm so glad it was with you” Keira said softly

“But... what happened??” your girlfriend asked lost

“She finally let go of the pain she bottled up... you just know her after she had to stop playing... but she's only a shell of herself – and I pray to god every night that he'll let her be the person she was before that... you'll see once she starts to work things out she'll be a totally different person” the blonde smiled through her tears

“But will she still want me in her life then?” Georgia asked scared

“Of course G... you are the reason she started to heal.... you made her feel so save and secure and loved – you managed something Lucy and I never did... you made her open up” Keira reassured her best friend

“I'm scared she'll only see hurt when she looks at me” your girlfriend mumbled accepting the tea Keira holds out for her

“Bullshit G.... I won't lie it's gonna be hard... on both of you – but you already showed that you'll be by her side no matter what and that you'll do the right thing when times are tough” the blonde squeezed her best friends shoulder lightly but then she saw the crutches “... why are there crutches in the kitchen??”

“Twisted me knee in a friendly...” Georgia admitted sheepishly

“Georgia!!!” Keira scolded her best friend pulling out a chair pushing the younger player down

“It's not bad... but it sent her spiraling...” your girlfriend said absently trying to hear what was going on in her bedroom with you and Lucy

“She's okay G.... Lucy won't let her hurt herself” the blonde said softly knowing what her best friend tries to do

“I should be with her...” Georgia mumbled “... she must think I abandoned her the second she let herself be vulnerable”

“She doesn’t.... and you will be with her... but Lucy needs to see and especially feel that she's okay you know... we're gonna get a room in a hotel and leave you two alone through the night and tomorrow morning we'll battle whatever we have to fight” Keira spoke calmly

“There's a small B&B around the corner here... I doubt Lucy wants to be too far away... the owners are nice and they're not too expensive...” your girlfriend said trying to stand up to retrieve the business card

“Stay.... I'll google it” the blonde said sternly pushing her best friend back into the chair when the two heard the bedroom door open and Lucy appeared in the doorway of the kitchen

“She's sleeping....” your sister said monotone sitting down opposite to Georgia with a stoic face

“Lucy....” Keira said softly trying to get a reaction out of her ex-girlfriend

“She's going to be okay... someday.... somehow... she's going to be okay” Lucy said her voice flat and suddenly she couldn't hold back the tears anymore and broke down – in the middle of Munich at Georgias kitchen table

“Lucy...” Keira tried again when her and Lucy walked the short distance to the B&B Georgia recommended earlier

“I can't Kei... I can't talk about it right now...” your sister said dismissively “We need to make a plan... I won't leave without her but she won't leave without G... so we need a plan”

“G twisted her knee earlier today.... so she unknowingly bought us some time... we'll take them both back to Barcelona... I'll text Alexia that she looks into vacation apartments... a week or two....” the blonde said knowing Lucy will talk to her when she's ready

“They can stay at mine and Onas...” Lucy said absently already fishing out her phone

“No Luce... they need their own place.... Alexia knows enough people to get an apartment where we all can be in five minutes if G calls us for help” Keira said laying her hand on top of Lucy telling her silently not to take actions

“You didn't hear her Kei... she begged me to let her kill herself... and apparently she tried before....” your sister started to cry again and all Keira could do is pull Lucy into a hug trying desperately not to cry

“I know... I knew... Lessi spilled the beans once when she was pissed drunk...” the blonde mumbled

“And you didn't think telling me???” Lucy exclaimed angrily pushing herself away from the blonde

“What difference would it have been Lucy?? You having a go at her for doing something stupid when she felt abandoned and alone?? You think that would've helped?” Keira also got upset a little bit

“I could've...” your sister tried but realized she had no idea what she would've done

“... done nothing Lucy.... you could've done nothing... it's done... in the past... and she never tried again... she doesn't even like to take pills anymore because of that... she's too scared that one Ibuprofen would kill her... so you could've done nothing and you won't do anything... you won't give her a talk and you won't hold it against her...” the blonde said firmly

“She's my sister!!! I need to protect her” Lucy said desperately

“She's my everything Lucy... and as much as I wished I can protect her from the world we CAN'T... we can be at her side when she needs us to help her stay upright but we can't protect her from everything...” Keira said trying to get through to her ex-girlfriend

“But what if it's not enough Kei?” your sister asked afraid

“Then we have to trust in everyone else who has her back that one of them is the right person to help her... and you have to trust G that she knows what she's doing...” the blonde said softly

“Okay...” Lucy took a deep breath “... okay... there are a lot of people who love her and will help when she needs it”

“Exactly.... you know she always had different people for different problems...” Keira smiled slightly “... but all of them would drop everything they're doing and come get her”

“You think we can go back to Barcelona tomorrow? I think it would do her some good... the warm weather and everything you know....” your sister looked up at her ex-girlfriend valuing her opinion

“Give her a day... G also needs some time to talk to the club if they're okay with her leaving.... Bitsy will sleep most of the time tomorrow anyway..... oh and Alexia needs time to set up an apartment” Keira answered “... but we should have a plan IF Bitsy wants to get out of the house tomorrow... I'll talk to G maybe she knows somewhere where we can have a little anonymity and can walk a little bit... but not too much with crutch-y”

“Good idea... zoo?” Lucy immediately started planning in her head

“Too many people... we can rent a car and go somewhere landside.....” the blonde said as they finally reached the small B&B and after a little communication problems (and maybe a call to G so she could translate) Lucy and Keira found themselves in small but cozy rooms where both of them fell asleep pretty quickly

“Slowly Bubs...” Lucy tried to grab your shirt as you sprinted forward

“But Lucy look...” you pointed excitedly towards the eagle who sat in his enclosure looking at you suspiciously

“A bird yes.... this is a bird place... they have birds” your sister rolled her eyes “... ooof”

“Don't be so sarcastic” Keira sneered after she elbowed her ex-girlfriend into the rips “She's having fun”

“She's pretending that what she is...” Lucy mumbled back “... she can't be nearly back to normal after she wanted to die yesterday”

“And if it helps her let her pretend...” the blonde huffed watching you as you looked up to the big eagle with awe

“Ehrm guys.... help please” you heard Georgia say and when Lucy turned around she bursted out laughing seeing her friend caught up with the rail and her crutches

“Just throw them crutches to the bottom of the stairs and hobble down Babe..” you said dismissively turning back to the big brown bird

“That's Harry... she's a seven year old Golden Eagle female...” one of the Keepers said having watched you for the last ten minutes

“She's beautiful” you whispered feeling like the bird looked right into your soul

“She's also very introverted... she doesn't interact with anyone” the young man said “... she doesn't even touch her food until everyone is gone....”

“She's hurting...” you said your voice low “... she misses her partner”

And just like that the big bird spread it wings and came down from her branch landing right in front of you

“You are, aren't you....” you whispered looking down at the majestic animal “... I know how it feels to hurt”

“She never done that... she never came down from her spot” the keeper says next to Lucy

“Yeah... my sister has some kind of talent...” Lucy watched you like a hawk when you decided to stick some fingers through the fence and the bird tilted its head a little bit

“Please don't...” the young man said and immediately got shushed by Lucy and Keira

“You need a new friend don't you” you whispered not noticing what’s happening around you but smiled when the eagle screeched at your words

“Bitsy...” Keira said softly trying to get you out of your bubble

“She needs a friend Kei...” you mumbled but your eyes never leave the bird

“But this can't be you... we can't take an Eagle back to Barcelona... and she wouldn't be happy there...” the blonde softly knowing exactly what you implied

“But...” you looked at Keira pleadingly

“No Bits... you don't want to make her more unhappy don't you... Barcelona is not a place for big birds” Keira said softly

“But we can visit her, sí?” you looked at the blonde with hopeful eyes

“Whenever you want Bits” the blonde smiled

“You need to find a friend for her... she doesn't care if it's another Eagle... try a parrot” you turned around to the young man marching of without looking back just as Georgia made her way down to the little group

“Oh come on... I just got here” you heard your girlfriend whine

“Bubs...” Lucy sprinted after you “... you know it's the best...”

“You don't understand Luce” you mumbled

“Go back and say bye to her... she's still sitting there waiting for you” your sister said softly

“I don't want to” you said and Lucy immediately knew why

“Don't leave her like her partner did Bubs... I know you two have a connection... everyone saw it... okay G didn't... she took to long... don't hurt her even more” Lucy kept her voice soft and it made you tear up again as you turned around and marched back to the enclosure

“Bye Harry... I come back soon I promise” you mumbled as you stick your fingers through the fence again and the bird pressed her head against your fingertips

“Okay... gracias Ale...” you heard Keira say into the phone as she kept stirring the tomatoes sauce “No... no that's okay... perfect... gracias Alexia”

“I'm hungry” you huffed bored

“10 minutes Bits” the blonde looked at you her phone still between her shoulder and ear “Go set the table”

“I'm sitting at the table” you groaned

“SET …. not sit... no sorry Ale...” Keira shot you a look before turning back to her call

“LUCY!! Keira said you should set the table” you yelled and smirked victorious

“I'm talking to G...” Lucy yelled back and you groaned knowing you have to do it

“I'll always be there Bubs... whenever you need me Bubs” you imitated her under your breath “... my ass”

“It's just setting the table” Keira lightly kicked you rolling her eyes just ended the call with Alexia

“What's the next step?” you asked changing the topic

“Tomorrow we all fly back to Barcelona...” Keira said as she drained the pasta “... Alexia found a small two bedroom apartment for you and G... not to far from Lucy and Ale herself.. a little further from my place... so whoever you need... we'll only be a text away okay?”

“How far is Mapí away?” you asked

“About 15 minutes...” the blonde answered truthfully

“Tweedledee and Tweedledumb?” you looked at Keira seriously

“Same... 15 Minutes... and before you ask.. I think even Jenni would come running if you ask” Keira smiled “... all the way from Mexico”

“I miss the Beach” you mumbled

“Tomorrow Bits... you can stay the whole day at the beach.... just you and G” the blonde smiled trying to cheer you up

“Okay...” you nodded before turning to the living room “DINNER IS READY!!!”

“COMING” you heard Lucy and when your sister and girlfriend entered the kitchen you knew something was up

“What's going on??” you asked eyeing them suspiciously

“Nothing” both of them answered quickly

“Georgia Marie....” you pointed at your girlfriend accusingly “... I swear...”

“The pasta is delicious” Georgia looked at Keira who started laughing

“No sex for a year” you sneered before taking a fork full of pasta yourself

“WHAT?? Baby” your girlfriend whined

“You sided with my sister” you grumbled

“You two can discuss that tomorrow in Barcelona...” Keira said firmly “... now we eat and then bed...”

“Yes mom” all three of you grumbled and you kicked Lucy for good measure against the shin

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Shows His Range in New Films 'The Apprentice' and 'A Different Man'

The 'Pam & Tommy' star appears unrecognizable in two projects that prove he's a master of transformation

JASMIN ROSEMBERG

"I have these very vivid memories,” says 42-year-old actor Sebastian Stan of growing up in Romania during the 1989 revolution.

“One of them being this Dacia car, driving by with screaming people holding the flag. The flag had a hole in the middle, which they had cut out — [erasing] the communist symbol at the time. And then I remember being on my couch with my mom and my grandmother and neighbors, watching Ceausescu be shot.”

What propelled them was the “obsession” Eastern Europeans had with the American Dream. “All I ever heard about was America: the land of the free, the land of opportunity,” says Stan, who at 8, moved with his mother — a pianist, who named him after composer Johann Sebastian Bach — to Vienna before heading to the U.S.

“I remember coming to this country when I was 12 with my mom and seeing the big Twin Towers of New York City and feeling overwhelmed,” Stan says. “And my mom looking at me and saying: “Now you have a chance to become someone.”

Stan takes a seat in an Amiri look with a ring by The Crown Collective.

The memories rushed back to him in 2019, when he was first reading the script for The Apprentice — the biographical film about Donald Trump directed by Iranian-Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi (Holy Spider, The Last of Us) and penned by Gabriel Sherman (who wrote the Roger Ailes biography The Loudest Voice in the Room).

“I was intrigued there was a movie being made about [Trump’s] earlier years,” says Stan of The Apprentice, which details Trump’s rise as a real estate businessman in New York during the ’70s and ’80s after being taken under the wing of ruthless attorney Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong) — who dealt in blackmail and had prosecuted the Rosenbergs in the espionage trial that led to their 1953 execution. “I was excited about [Abbasi] as an Iranian-European filmmaker approaching the story.” But after receiving the script, he heard nothing … until 2022.

“Of course, you have hesitation,” says Stan, who takes on the role of the former president and 2024 Republican nominee. “You’re wondering, ‘Why tell the story? What is there to add?’ Or, ‘What can I contribute here? I don’t look like him.’ There were plenty of reservations and my own personal judgements.”

But Stan tried an exercise: “I went back to the script, crossing out the character names and just trying to read it [without] bringing any baggage with me. And I found it to be much more relatable than I had anticipated, in terms of what I felt it was saying about the American Dream. [It was] this point of view of, ‘You’ve got to get there, you’ve got to be perfect, you’ve got to win, you’ve got to get more.’”

Now you have a chance to become someone.

Stan in Christian Dior Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

“You have to find parts of yourself through which you can understand the people you’re playing,” he says. “For me, [it was] that moment coming to New York and remembering how grateful I was to finally have a chance — and what my mom was telling me. But I also suddenly felt this burden, which I still feel now sometimes, which is, ‘When is it enough?’”

In the film, Trump goes from being the impressionable, wide-eyed son of an impossible-to-please real estate developer to a megalomaniacal wheeler-dealer who speaks in hyperbole, is obsessed with appearance (his own and that of his first wife, Ivana — played by Maria Bakalova — a relationship that escalates into sexual assault) and surpasses his master in heartlessness and corruption.

“We can see how easy it is to make a Faustian deal with the devil in order to win,” Stan says. “‘What is the cost of this American Dream?’ I related [to] seeing a person so determined to get there, no matter what, that he was abandoning who he was in the process.”

Stan’s ascent has been just as remarkable. After acting in school plays in New York’s Rockland County, he studied at Rutgers University before scoring a recurring role on the CW series Gossip Girl. “The next really big shift I felt was [landing] Marvel, in 2010,” says Stan, who played Captain America colleague Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, a role that led to his signing a nine-picture deal with the studio. He’s also worked with a string of award-winning directors and actors in films such as Black Swan, The Martian and Destroyer.

Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

His first experience portraying a real person was in 2017 biopic I, Tonya as figure skater Tonya Harding’s husband opposite Margot Robbie. For 2022 Hulu miniseries Pam & Tommy, he transformed into Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee, husband to Lily James’ Pamela Anderson — which earned him Golden Globe, Critics Choice and Emmy nominations. The projects “had one thing in common, which was Craig Gillespie,” Stan says, “an incredible director, who taught me a lot of things about myself I didn’t necessarily know I could do.”

In becoming Trump, Stan wanted to rely on prosthetics as little as possible. “But we were very aware we don’t look very similar,” he says. “And so, about two months before we started shooting, Ali told me that I should start gaining as much weight as I could in my face.”

Stan’s nutritionist advised him to drink beer — but because Trump doesn’t drink, the actor preferred ramen with sodium-packed soy sauce. He adopted the precise way Trump spoke and moved through a process he equates with osmosis: “Subjecting yourself in an obsessive way to watching and listening and reading everything [about Trump] you can find.”

He credits Strong for elevating their work. “We improvised a lot,” Stan says. “And Jeremy was so prepared that I had to do my research to keep up. Like that scene where [Trump and Cohn are] meeting: I would have to know what school [Cohn] went to, and who his last client was, and that he was from the Bronx and had a photographic memory — in case it came up in the improv. Because he knew who was pitching for the Mets in 1976! It was a really immersive experience and we were on our toes together.”

Maria Bakalova as Ivana Trump and Stan as Donald Trump in 'The Apprentice'

After premiering at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival in May, The Apprentice had a hard time finding a U.S. distributor due to Trump threatening legal retaliation. But after Tom Ortenberg’s Briarcliff Entertainment acquired the film in late August, it hit theaters Oct. 11.

Stan also stars in A Different Man, in which he plays Edward, an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis — a rare genetic skin condition that produces tumors. Edward undergoes a medical procedure in the hopes his new appearance will win him a woman (Renate Reinsve) and better his life. Like The Apprentice, Stan considers this film — which scored him the Silver Bear for Best Leading Performance when it bowed in Berlin — to address self-acceptance.

Stan with Renate Reinsve and Adam Pearson in 'A Different Man'

“It’s this idea, of ‘the grass is greener on the other side’ — and the truth is, you don't know,” says Stan, who lobbied for the role after seeing director Aaron Schimberg’s 2018 Chained for Life. Both that film and A Different Man, released theatrically by A24 in September, star British actor Adam Pearson, who has neurofibromatosis. “I spoke to doctors, I’ve spoken to Adam in-depth about his upbringing,” says Stan, who sat in Mike Marino’s makeup chair for up to two hours to transform into Edward.

“The prosthetics were so realistic that when I started to walk around, nobody recognized me ... and it was scary,” he says. “You see firsthand how we respond to somebody who looks different.”

Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

Stan next stars in Marvel’s Thunderbolts* with David Harbour, Wyatt Russell, Florence Pugh and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, out in May 2025. “It's a funny group of not-perfect antiheroes that are trying to come to terms with their pasts, and I think people will get behind them," he says.

He’ll reunite with Pam & Tommy’s James on horror thriller Let the Evil Go West, about a railroad worker who stumbles into a fortune that comes at a price — “a very different movie than our last experience," he notes. And he’s producing Blue Banks, from Romanian writer-director Andreea Cristina Bortun.

“It’s this really personal film about a single mother’s journey with her son in Romania, which reminded me a lot of my humble beginnings with my mom — and how tough it was after the revolution, as a single parent, to take care of your kid and at the same time, provide,” Stan says.

“A lot of parents had to leave their kids behind to get a job somewhere else — which is what happened with me for a couple years, until I started living with my mom again. I was with my grandparents," he adds. "It explores the implications and the suffering that comes at the hands of a system that has oppressed people for so long. And then they’re left with trying to find their way.”

SEBASTIAN STANLEADING MEN OF 2024 NOVEMBER 2024

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Phantom pain

Summary; Price said he would be back before Christmas, but you didn't think it would be like this.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 9k

Warnings; angst, injury, copious amount of fluff

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: Surprise update everyone! I've been feeling so festive this year, there's so much snow and everything's just so cosy, so this chapter comes as a little hurt to feel-good thing on the third of advent. If you don't celebrate Christmas or don't like the festive period, I simply hope that you have a great December nonetheless🥰

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

It had been a slow morning. Despite snow greeting you on the ground and in the air, you'd felt warm huddled in your jacket and the thought of cosying into one of the plush armchairs at your coffee shop. It had been serene; not many ventured outside in this weather. Yet, you'd smiled behind the lapel of your jacket when something other than cloudy skies and rain doused everything in a hue of grey.

You'd been in such a good mood that when you returned home with some pastries to go, saffron and caramel the main components in the golden danishes and tarts, you started a deep cleaning of your flat.

With the least Christmasy of Christmas songs playing from your speakers, you put up some festive lights, the warm glow softening every hard edge.

Although, while you're balancing on your stool, using some double-sided sticky tape to fasten a string of light behind your curtains, the music from your speakers is cut off by your phone ringing. You didn't think twice about heading to your phone, believing it was Marissa or one of your other friends. Yet, you stall when spotting the caller I.D. lighting up your screen.

Two weeks. John said his deployment would last two weeks. Of course, you would've been happy if he returned home earlier on any other occasion. But something made your stomach twist and your brows furrow when John now was calling less than a week and a half after he left.

"John?" You ask tentatively after answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Sorry, lass, probably not the John ya wanted". Your heart fucking drops, your face falling in record time when it's a Scottish accent and not the easily recognisable British variant greeting you.

"J-Johnny?" Your voice breaks halfway through, unable not to. Even tears managed to well in the short seconds you realise what this call might be.

"Hey, easy, Price is alive and kickin'-"

"Oh god", you choke out the words, dropping to the couch behind you as you'd remained standing since you answered, for some reason. The tears that collected in the corner of your eyes trail down your cheeks upon your eyes shutting, more so from the sudden burst of relief than the fear that brought them.

"Fuck, you scared me, Johnny".

"Should've started with that", he excuses with a slight, strained chuckle before he clears his throat. "But... still callin' for a reason".

"Yeah, gathered that much", you return, wiping away your tears with your shirt sleeve.

"Captain got downed durin' the mission, nasty shot in the shoulder".

"What?" Your motion stills when you register what Johnny said, gaze falling to stare at the call-time ticking away tauntingly slow.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the infirmary and had just returned from a quick surgery".

"But is he alright?" You bring your phone closer to your face as if it somehow would make Johnny feel how you pressed for an answer.

"Huffin' and groanin' 'bout it but fine otherwise. He wanted me to call ya, knowin' the pain-meds he was forced to take wouldn't help him give good 'nough explanation of things".

"Okay, okay", you mumble. He's alive. Hurt but alive.

"He'll need to stay a while. But ya can come to see him if ya want".

"I can?"

"'Course, we'll be able to get ya a visitin' pass".

"Oh, thank you, Johnny", you breathe out.

"Nothin' to thank, lass. Can't stand the Captain's grousin' anymore". You chuckle half-heartedly at that. "I'll send you the details 'bout the visit and some information that's needed".

"Yes, yes, absolutely". You nodded along even if the Scot couldn't see the motion. "Send it over, and I'll fill out whatever's needed".

You don't know how much of a shit show things had turned into for them to return home early. Although, it must have been bad if not only John didn't go unharmed from it, but even Johnny seemed to have seen better days. 

It was hard not to notice his roughened-up look when he met you by the army base's outer perimeter about two hours later. There were a few cuts and bruises littering his face, and even though the Scot didn't hesitate to bring you into a comforting hug as you jumped out of your car, you noted the slight wince he waved off as a 'bruised everything'.

Even if you'd been shaken after ending the call with Johnny, you attempted to calm down, telling yourself 'John's fine' before leaving your flat. Yet, those nerves flared right up when you entered the small visitors' centre beside the road. Thankfully, the very man who'd given you the news of John seemed to notice that the military surroundings were vastly unfamiliar and unnerving for someone not used to them, especially considering why you were here.

Johnny kept close the entire time, helping you with the needed papers for the visitor's pass by pointing to where your signature was required, even if he talked familiarly with the armed guards all the while.

You took deep breaths to steady yourself numerous times, feeling the Scot's attention fall on you each time he noted the same unease he previously only caught over the phone. You knew you weren't succeeding in hiding your nerves. Nevertheless, between being in a strongly off-limits zone for usual civilians and the fact you wouldn't be here if John wasn't in a hospital bed, you don't think Johnny or any of the other soldiers blamed you for it.

When everything was finally signed and read through, Johnny scribbled his signature on the dotted line beside yours on the last page.

With the I.D. around your neck, you exited the smaller building and jumped into your car again, only now the Scot hitched a ride back with you.

Your fingers rapped against the steering wheel once you were let through the gates and rolled forwards, teeth worrying your lower lip, eyes trained on the main compound further ahead.

"Lass", your eyes had swiftly adverted to Johnny, noticing his eyes shifting to your hands. You stopped with a tight lipped smile, your gaze having adverted forward again. "Price is roughened up but fine. He's been through much worse".

"I know", you sighed, having to hold yourself from going back to biting your lip. You'd seen John's scars, some on worryingly critical places on his abdomen. "But I haven't been there to see that...", you mumbled, eyes fixed on the parking lot ahead.

You and Soap didn't share much chatter as you parked, nor more than needed as he guided you through the building closest to the parking lot. However, he offered a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder when he saw you hesitate in the elevator upon reaching the medical wing. 

A327. That was the room John apparently was in. 

You looked at each door you passed, waiting for the right one. 

324. 325. 326. 

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you finally reached 327.

With hands intertwining hands, fingers wringing each other, you merely stand rooted before the door. All of a sudden hesitant to step inside.

"He's gonna be fine, lass". Johnny's comment makes you look up at him. A gentler smile than usual meets you, causing you to release the breath you didn't know you held as you nod. "Let's get ya to meet him". The Scot gives you an encouraging smile as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter.

John's already facing your way when you step into the room that nearly shines white and beige. But your gaze only briefly meets his before it drops, flittering over his form. 

He rests beneath multiple blankets that reach his stomach, his upper body clad in a soft white t-shirt that doesn't look like his own. Your jaw clenches when you spot his arm in a sling, stabilising it against his chest. As your eyes trail further upwards, a distressed sound bubbles up in your throat upon spotting the bandages peeking from beneath the left sleeve.

"John-", you don't manage to say anything more before you stutter to a stop, chest heaving on a sharp inhale.

"C'mere, love", his voice is hoarse, strained, barely more than a grating sound, but you move forward as on command.

You can't help how your mouth purses at how tired he looks, the hint of pain in his eyes so evident when you stop beside the bed.

"M'fine", John raises the arm of his healthy side, even so, he winces, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment before they open again.

"Don't lie, I see that you're not", you murmur as you take hold of the hand that tried to reach your face, allowing his upper arm to drop and rest along the bed, instead meeting him halfway by bending down to kiss his knuckles.

John exhales deeply, eyelids fluttering close, the crease between his brows never smoothening. God, it hurts to see him like this. 

You step closer, the side of the bed pressing into your thigh, planting a kiss at the very centre of the furrow. When you look down at John again, his features have softened, but his eyes still have a troubled look when that blue gaze meets yours.

"I'll leave ya two to it". You look over your shoulder, sending Johnny a look of gratitude.

"Thank you, Soap", John says. The Scot only nods in return, giving you a last look before he exits.

Once you're alone with John, you exhale almost painfully before gazing down at him. 

"You don't know how scared I got when Johnny called", you admit. This time, John pulls your hand rather than face towards him, tipping his head forward to plant a firm kiss against your knuckles. "Thought-"

"Sit down, love". Upon catching your distress, John pats the side of his bed with a gentle voice. Although his attempt does little to ease your nerves, seeing how the slight move of his legs sideways to give you space only makes his features twist.

"Not a chance", you protest with a shake of your head, fearful of accidentally hurting him more. Instead, you glance around the room, finding a pair of chairs along the wall.

John doesn't hold you back as you release him and move towards them, but you guess it's more because he can't then don't want to. 

You pull the chair along and put it as close to the hospital bed as possible, not hesitating to lean over the low metal railing at the side to hold John's hand again after sitting down, your other hand settling on his forearm, rubbing soothing motions. 

You gaze up at the blue-eyed man, those pretty eyes of his duller than usual, exhaustion shining in its own faded might. His brown hair is one of the few darker accents in the room; the screen of the heartbeat monitor is the other source. Yet, it's matted, fallen to its own will against his forehead rather than styled into something casual by his fingers running through it and pushing it backwards. 

Leaning forwards, your card your hand through John's hair, not nearly correcting it to how he usually does, but better nonetheless. 

Your gaze flitters to meet his when you settle back in your seat, noting the smile adorning his lips. 

"Happy to see you again, love". Not daring to test your voice, you kiss his knuckles in return. This time, you're positioned low enough that John's hand goes to cup your face when you lean away again, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "Even if it could've been under better circumstances".

You don't notice it until John's thumb paints a streak of wetness over your skin, but he redirects a stray tear rather than letting it follow its natural path.

"You're here. That's what matters". You squeeze John's wrist, leaning away to wipe your cheeks yourself, offering him a smile with a breathed chuckle.

"Was never not close to return". John wraps his hand over yours, letting them drop to the bed as he reflects your smile. "Shoddy shot whoever they were, used a handgun in close combat and still missed the brachial artery and brachial plexus", John releases one of those huff-chuckles of his. You shake your head, having no idea what difference it would make if whoever shot him hadn't missed those points, only that it probably would've been a lot worse.

"What- what went wrong?" Your gaze flickers to his injured side.

A heaved sigh escapes him before he speaks.

"Mission was bumpy from the start but went fine". You knew he let confidential details out, but you didn’t want to know anything apart from what happened to him. "Needed to wait out exfil in an abandoned buildin'. Remained remarkably silent until we got the call to move to the pick-up point. Got ambushed, absolute shitshow". He shakes his head with a grunt.

"How's the others?" You'd seen two of the four men, though Ghost and Kyle's absence suddenly irked you upon hearing what John told you.

"Bruised but none too badly". John ran his thumb over your hand. A low, partly amused, partly exasperated huff escaped him as he continued. "My turn to take the brunt for the team, it seemed".

Even if you could've wished for a better outcome for John, at least none of the others had gotten off worse. 

You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you really try to take in his state, trying, only try again to find your words. Seeing John like this almost feels wrong. 

You'd witnessed his soft side, but this wasn't soft. This is hurt. He wasn't sluggish as when you managed to keep him in bed rather than rise with the birds on the occasional weekend. This was exhaustion, one he tried to hide, but the lines on his face exposed nonetheless. 

Barely anything could've pulled your attention from John as you tried to find your words, any consolidation that wouldn't sound like pity. And yet, when a knock sounded from the door, soon after swinging open, both your and John's eyes are pulled to the entrance.

When you spit the woman striding into the room, your brows jump up.

"Kate? Didn't think you would be here". Upon noticing you sitting by John's side, the American woman stalled, the computer beneath her arm pulled in front of her.

"I was involved in the mission the boys went on". She juts her chin towards the man at your side. "Mind if I speak to him?" Her tone wasn't stern, nothing hinting at malice or desire to break you and John up. Still, it didn't really sound like she asked.

You looked from Kate to John, not really stunned compared to feeling how a bubble unexpectedly broke. "Oh, yes, of course, I'll wait outside". 

Considering how neither stopped you as you stood, John only squeezing your hand before letting go, you took it as an affirmation this wasn't a conversation you had any clearance to be present for and that one way or another would've happened either way.

Even so, Kate offers you a kind smile as you pass her on the way out. Yet, you note the blonde woman's features looked tighter than on the night of the party, without a doubt due to the predicament making John end up in a hospital bed.

When the door falls shut behind you, you lean against the wall just to the left of the entrance. It's silent to a degree you would guess the room John's in is semi, if not entirely, sound-proofed. Considering it isn't an emergency wing, you wouldn't disregard the possibility.

You sigh, eyes falling close. What a fucking day.

You don't know how long you stand like that, but you're only dragged out from whatever trance you entered once you catch the elevator stopping on your floor and the steps coming closer soon after. Considering you'd anticipated a nurse or the like, your brows rise when the pristinely white surroundings suddenly stand in stark contrast to the person dressed in dark army clothing.

"Heard from Soap you would be around". You smile as you push off the wall, meeting Kyle as he closes the distance between you. "How are you holding up?" The question brushes past your shoulder as he brings you in for a hug before keeping you within arm's distance, studying what must be your tired features.

"As good as can be". You smile in return. The young Brit rubs your upper arms reassuringly as he nods, seeming content with your answer as his arms drop to his sides. "You here to visit John?"

"I was, got some gaps in my schedule", Kyle confirms before cocking his head. "But I guess I'll have to wait, considering you're not there with him".

”Kate is paying him a visit”. He looks at the door with a furrowed brow before his attention tracks back to you and it smoothens. ”If you wanna greet him, maybe you have enough authority to”. Kyle only shakes his head. 

”If Laswell wanted to talk to him first, there’s a reason. The rest of us will know in due time. Hopefully, he ain't such a grouse by then”. He shrugs, and you can't stop your laugh. This time, it's not half-hearted nor forced.

"All of you laying it on thick about how grumpy he is".

"He isn't such a charmer when things don't go his way and he isn't surrounded by pretty faces". You swat Kyle on the arm as he sends you a look. "Only telling you the truth, not all of us get special treatment".

"Yeah, yeah, alright", he nudges your shoulder with his knuckles before stepping backwards.

"Send the Cap'n my regards, have to be on my way".

"Will do. Have a good day, Kyle". He gives you a nod of goodbye in return as he turns on his heel, heading back to the elevator he came from a few minutes ago. You offer him a last wave before the door closes.

Alone again, you look at the clock on the wall. But, considering you have no recollection of when you exited the room, you can't tell how much time has passed since Kate arrived, only guessing it must be at least a dozen. 

You scan the corridor, finding sporadic rows of chairs along the wall, similar to the ones in John's room. Not knowing how long John and Kate's unofficial meeting would continue, you move to one of the seats across from where you'd stood, fishing up your phone to make time pass faster as you sit down.

Taking note this time, you know another ten minutes have passed before the door opposite you opens and pulls your eyes from your screen.

You slip your phone into your pocket as you push up from the seat and head towards Kate, Even though she’s keeping the door open with one hand on the handle, you barely catch the end of John's sentence before it ends.

Just as you reach her side, Kate's attention trails from John to you, giving you space to enter by stepping out of the room. Flashing her a brief smile, you move forward but suddenly gets halted when her hand slips around your upper arm.

"It's good to see the Captain's got someone with him", her voice is lowered, only for you to catch.

Your lips tug upwards in a genuine smile. Without really knowing how to answer that, you offer Kate a nod and a small 'thank you' in return.

The smile she reciprocates with is much less strained this time around. "Take care of him now".

"I will". And with that, she nods goodbye, heading down the hallway while you re-enter the room. 

"Spoke with Kyle". You begin while closing the door behind you. "He says hello". You forward his message to avoid forgetting. 

When your eyes fall upon John, whom you barely catch an answer from, at least not more than a hum, you notice how he's sunken deeper into the bed.

"You tired?" You retake your place in the armchair as he hums again. As John scoots closer to your side and stretches his hand towards you, you settle your elbow on the bed and intertwine your hands again.

"Laswell was worried, wanted to check in and inform me some things that needed finishin' could wait". The pauses between his words were prolonged, and the pronunciation drawled as he briefed you on his conversation with Kate. "Should finish them, though", he grunted, trying to sit up straight against the pillows, but you settled a hand on his stomach.

"You need to rest, John. If Kate said things could wait, trust her". He stilled, looking back at you with slow, almost drowsy blinks.

"Fine", he agreed, settling into the bed again.

 As he sighed, eyes fluttering close, you felt something bleed from your body, making your upper body relax forwards, head settling on the verge between John’s hip and his lower stomach. Feeling the weight, his eyes flutter open, head tilting forward as he gazes at you. 

"Mm, talk to me, love, what you've been up to".

"Not much, really. I worked and met up with some friends. Oh, Marissa and I went on a little investment spree for Christmas".

"Investment?" John humours in a low voice, the twitch in his mouth unable to pull his lips into a complete smile compared to only tilting the edges upwards.

"If they're going to be reused yearly, that's an investment". He chuckles deeply, and you release a chuckle of your own.

You continue talking about what you've done in the week and a half you've been apart. Some Christmas baking, putting up decorations as of today, noting how most things out of the ordinary related to the holiday season. 

Gradually, you notice how John's eyes fall close. Even so, he's still invested in the conversation with few-worded responses. But even those soon become nods and hums when his hand relaxes in yours. As you move to gently trail your fingers up and down his forearm, all while continuing to talk, the soothing motions make him heave a sigh. 

Soon enough, the only sounds he lets out are the breaths escaping his parted lips, his softened breathing followed by the rhythmic movement of his chest. 

You trail off in your sentence with a small smile, watching John's sleeping features. No furrow pulls his brows together, no involuntary twinge in his features letting on his pain. He looks at ease, and it finally settles your nerves as well. 

In stark contrast to how you notice John's consciousness slipping, you don't detect yours slowly doing the same. 

Your movements up and down his skin slowly grow shorter, from trailing between his wrist to the crook in his arm to only rubbing the spot your hand eventually stills on. The tension in your neck releases from the claws of whatever emotions had built throughout the tumultuous day, your head feeling heavier as it rests against his stomach. There's a fine line between when your blinking turns from slow to prolonged, even slimmer to when you can pinpoint your last conscious thought.

You're not the first to wake up. John's the one who stirs when a knock sounds from the door.

If not for the pain in his shoulder, despite being suppressed, he wouldn't blink his eyes so blearily and feel his mind sluggishly awake compared to what's expected of someone like him. Even so, his senses are sharper than yours as he notes your form slumped over the bed and your head resting on him, serene features remaining much like your steady breaths bleeding through the blankets.

His eyes trails to the door, releasing a low sound that must have sounded like a grunt to whoever was on the other side, but he couldn't care. The door swings open, Soap stepping through it much like he'd done a few hours earlier, but then with you by his side. 

Now, the Sctosman closes the door behind him gently upon noting your sleeping form before his attention settles on John.

As Soap steps further into the room, John's eyes flit down to your sleeping form before rising again. With a swift look at the clock, he knows what the Sergeant is probably here for. He softly settles his hand upon your head.

You don’t remember falling asleep, only that John did, so when you’re roused from a dreamless nap by a hand cradling your scalp, you feel groggy when sitting up straight all too suddenly. 

You blink repeatedly as your vision focuses again, finding John looking at you, his hand sliding down to the back of your head and down your arm.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm". You roll your head, twitching at the twinge in your neck from your not-so-ergonomic sleeping position.

"Not the comfiest spot for ya". The Scottish accent catches you off-guard, as last you checked, only you and John were in the room.

You turn around, spotting the very Scot who'd spoken. "Oh, hi, Johnny".

"Hey, lass", he chuckles in return. "Just came ’bout to inform ya there’s a room waitin' if ya want to stay the night". 

Your brows lift, eyes shifting to John, who's already watching you. "You don’t need to. I’ll be holed up here either way".

"It will just be less travel tomorrow", you shrug, turning back to Soap as you confirm you'll stay.

"Come on then, lass, visitin' hours are over soon". He opened the door slightly as he spoke, showing you he would guide you to your room for the night. You nodded, shifting out of your seat to stand, not without looking down at John.

"Go, get some proper sleep", he nudges your hip. You give him a brief smile before bending down, pressing your lips against his. They're chapped, but their plush warmth is soft. As you part from him, you mumble a 'goodnight' against him, an equally low 'goodnight, love' murmured against your lips, warming you further before you pull away.

You place the chair back where it's meant before fetching your things from beside the bed and offer John a last parting smile and a 'see you tomorrow'.

Just before you pass through the door, you look back at John, offering him a small wave, one he answers with a warm smile.

"You really turn the Captain into a love-sick man", Johnny's comment comes seconds after the door closes. You turn to him, seeing the amused look he sends you.

"Oh, shut up". You swat Johnny's arm, making him bark out a chuckle.

"Ain't nothin' bad, lass", he mused, nudging you back with his elbow.

The Scotsman lead you to another part of the compound, a freestanding building just across the one you exited, at the other side of the parking lot. 

It had begun snowing. Fat constellations of powdery white fall through the air as you trudge through what's already covering the ground. You flick up the lapel of your coat, burrowing your nose in the fabric as you protect your eyes from the snowflakes desiring to stick to your lashes. 

When you entere the building you'd been heading toward, the warmth inside was a welcoming change, and you shrug away the snow that had yet to melt into the dark fabric enveloping you. 

This time around, there was no need to sign papers as upon your arrival, Johnny simply led you straight to the room appointed for you, handing you the key when stopping outside the door. As you entered, you were surprised, not knowing what you'd anticipated, but certainly not a space similar to a hotel room.

A low whistle pulls your eyes to Johnny. "Aye, not bad", his eyes rove over the room before settling on you.

"Much better than I thought", you agree, stepping inside, shrugging the bag off your shoulder, and simply putting it on the floor.

"Didn't think we would put ya in the barracks, did ya?"

"Never experienced military hospitality before, but didn't expect much", you shrug, smiling in return as you turn to face him.

He shakes his head. "That's the thanks", he quips, yet his grin deceives him. "I'll see ya in the mornin', lass".

"Johnny!" He halts in the step he'd begun to take, watching you with raised brows. "Just, thank you for... everything today". His fingers rap against the door handle as he shifts the weight on his feet.

"Knew it probably would be tough for ya and that Price probably hadn’t even thought ‘bout having ya visit here yet. S’jus' wanted to make it as smooth as possible for the both of ya. Know he would've done the same for the rest of us", he shrugs with a gentle smile. Johnny's consideration warming your heart.

"Thank you, really".

The side of his mouth bows upwards. "Ya are welcome". And with that, he closes the door.

***

When you wake up in an unfamiliar room, remembering where you are takes a few seconds. Then it comes rushing back as you see the visiting pass on the bedside table. Johnny’s phone call. John’s injury. The military base. 

You sit up with a jawn, peeking out the room's sole window.

It’s utterly white outside, with no cloud in the sky as the sun just about peeks over the horizon, suggesting today will be considerably colder than yesterday.

Slipping from bed, you’re quick to dress yourself. The t-shirt you slept in gets stuffed into your handbag as you only shrug on the hoodie from yesterday, slipping into your pants not soon after.

You move to the bathroom, lamenting the lack of anything to freshen up. Even so, you splash your face with water, trying to tame your hair before sighing heavily, simply fetching the hair-tie you’d remembered to take off your wrist before bed. 

Moving around the room, you remember the package of gum you’d thrown into your bag a few days ago, hoping you hadn’t chewed through the whole package when it would ease your mind about morning breath.

You rummage through your bag, cursing what yesterday didn't feel like a lot of stuff, but now does as you search for what you need. 

A swift two-rap knock echoes from the door just as a triumphant sound escapes you when you spot the silvery package. Popping a gum into your mouth, you move towards the entrance, not surprised to find Johnny on the other side as you swing it open.

”Good morning”. 

Johnny cocks his head as you smile at him before he splits into his own grin. ”Ya seem cheery this mornin’.”

”Seeing that John’s doing good helped me sleep better”, you shrug, catching a hum from him as you turn around to collect your stuff around the room. ”And then the bed was surprisingly good”.

”These ones are heaven in comparison to those in the barracks”.

”Yeah?” You turn towards the Scot standing with his hands behind his back, waiting at the doorstep.

“Aye, happy to not be rookie anymore”.

”Understandable”, you chuckle as you and Johnny step out into the hallway before tracking the same path you’d done yesterday. You could’ve done it yourself but had an inkling that you couldn’t move freely on the base.

”So you’re my guide while I’m here?” Blue eyes flicker down to you as he lets you pass out the door to the courtyard first.

It’s indeed colder today than yesterday, the chill biting your cheeks.

”Aye. Concernin’ Price was bed-bound; I needed to sign those papers in his stead”.

”And you don’t have better things to do?” 

”L.T. gave me five minutes to spare”.

”From what?” The snow crunches beneath your shoes.

”Whatever drill he set up to run us into the ground”. You let out a surprised laugh at that, making the Scot grin. ”Yaself then, lass, goin’ to keep an eye out on the Captain for us when he leaves?”

Your eyes widen, switching to look at Johnny once evading an ice-spot as you cross the parking lot. ”He’s cleared to go home?” 

”Haven't got any confirmation on it. But he's got no vital injury and has stayed close to two days, so it’s probable he’ll get to go home”, he shrugs.

The warmth rushes against your face as you enter the main building, much like yesterday, taking a right towards the medical wing.

”Feel like I’ll need to. Otherwise, he’ll stress the injury”.

”Wouldn’t be the first time any of us did that”. Johnny rubbed his neck as you raised your brows at him. He positioned himself opposite you as you stepped into the elevator, giving you a sheepish shrug. ”Comes with the job sometimes despite medical leaves”, the Scot excused the habit, only making you roll your eyes with a disbelieving huff.

”Then I’ll definitely have to ensure he takes it easy”. The doors close, and the elevator smoothly rises.

”Price won’t be able to say no to ya, never has since he met ya”. When your head dips into a shake this time, a smile adorns your lips that you try to hide. Even so, the Scot slung his arm around your shoulders with a laugh as you exited the elevator upon its chime and the doors opening.

The walk to John’s room seems much shorter than yesterday, without a doubt, because you know of his stable state. So when Johnny drops his arms from your shoulders, it’s not with bathed breath you open the door. 

Unlike yesterday, your eyes don’t lock with John’s the second you enter the room designated to him. His gaze remains cast downwards on the tablet in his lap, even if his head tilts your way to show he noted someone had entered. Not until the Scot behind you offers a ’Mornin’ Captain’ does the man in the bed look up.

”What was that about makin’ him take it easy?” Johnny chuckles lowly, making you send him a look before he departs with a mock salute. You only shake your head at the man before entering the room.

”Aren’t you meant to take it easy?” You watch John with a raised brow, catching how the door slides close behind you while you slip out of your coat. 

”I am”.

”Let me rephrase”, you chide him with a smile. ”Shouldn’t you relax, no work?” You move to the side of his bed with one of the chairs dragged along behind you.

”I-

”Don’t say that you are John. I know that look on your face”, you remark with a finger towards the easing purse of his lips and the furrow between his brows that’s not brought on entirely by pain like yesterday.

He sighs heavily, a locking sound coming from the tablet as he drops it screen-down in his lap. ”You’re right”.

 ”I know I am”. John releases a huff of laughter through his nose at your comment, softening your smile. ”Did you sleep well?”

He hums. ”Woke a few times ’cause of this-”. He jerked his head to his shoulder. ”Bed probably goin’ to set off my back”, he scoffed in annoyance at having to deal with the twinge in the lower part of his spine that you’d learnt most often came and went more frequently after he returned from a deployment or a bad mattress. 

You hum, leaning forward to card your fingers through his hair that had fallen across his forehead after his previous jerky movement. While you do, you catch John returning the question, but your answer is an undeveloped ’good’, all your attention upon the locks your fingers card through.

His hair feels matted, and when your eyes briefly flicker over his face, you note his beard is untamed, not grizzly, but it’s lost the shine it usually always has.

”When was the last time you showered?”

”That's your way of tellin’ me I smell?” Your nose scrunches, hand falling to rest on the metal railing as your gaze locks with John’s amused one.

”No, at least that wasn’t what I was getting at”. 

A chuckle precedes the more serious answer you get. ”About a week ago at the last safe-house, haven’t been able to have one after returnin’. Can’t wet the bandages”. You purse your lips, gaze momentarily switching to his shoulder before trailing back.

”How long before you can take them off?”

”The Doc visited before you came around and said I’m clear to leave, but the bandages needed to stay on until tomorrow”.

You nod. ”Johnny betted you would be able to go home today”.

”We know how these thing goes. Instructions about wound care, then sent off on med-leave before even attempting to come back and get shot at again”.

”Jesus, John”, you let out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head. When you raise it again, there’s a slight tug in the corner of his mouth and a knowing, truthful, look in his eyes. "Better we get you home and start the arduous wait, then." You offered him a smile and a raise of your brows, silently wondering if he was ready to pack up.

"Can't wait".

It wasn't a hassle to get John out of bed. He groaned and gruffed to himself as he pushed himself upright with your hand steadying him on his back, but that was about it. As he rose from the bed, you helped him into his boots and gently slung the jacket draped over his duffel-bag on the other side of his bed. 

You'd sent him a look when he'd noted you of the bag's presence, remembering it wasn't there yesterday, to which he only explained Kyle got around and dropped off his things just after the Doctor had visited.

Although standard issued and didn't seem too heavy once you made the proposition to carry it instead of him, you cursed in disbelief when slinging it over your shoulder, not anticipating its weight. It had given John a good laugh before offering to take it regardless. However, you remained stubborn, motioning for him to take the lead out of the room with a 'you don't know how heavy our purses can be sometimes'.

But you don't enjoy a second of it as you trudge through the building; you more than John slowing the tempo. He catches you grumbling under your breath numerous times about what he's got in there, falling back to walk beside you once you reach the parking lot, mentioning he doesn’t desire looking back and find you toppled over in a heap of snow. He'd gotten another glare upon that comment.

You'd thought the drive home to John's would've been less arduous, but you'd found yourself unable to relax just as much, but for entirely different reasons.

With each turn of the car, you noticed how John braced his feet against the floor so as not to move in his seat, his free hand slipping beneath the seat belt to keep it from digging into his injury at times.

The way he acted made you all the more cautious in your driving, even picking routes that had more straight for his sake. You knew John noticed when you didn't take the usual right about halfway through the drive by the glance in your direction.

By the time you pulled into his driveway, the sky had darkened, and snow had started falling, making your and John's retreat into the house from the car hasty. Nonetheless, he managed to escape the weather that was worsening by the second much quicker compared to you as you fetched his bag from the booth.

You don't take more than a few steps into the foyer before you slip John's bag to the floor. When the pressure of the straps disappears, you sigh in relief.

John's chuckle makes you send him a glare. However, it melts away when your gaze finds the absolute disarray of his hair, now a combination of dirty and wet from the snow.

"Come one, I'll help you freshen up". You say, closing the door behind you, shielding you from the chilling cold.

"No need, love". You send him a look over your shoulder as you take off your coat, finding John stepping out of his barely laced boots.

"Why? You always have a shower when you get home?"

"If you have forgotten, can't get this wet for a day more". John nods to his shoulder as he faces you. "Can just wait 'till tomorrow".

Your brows furrow, and your hand falls to your hip while hanging up your coat. "John, I know how religious you are about your routine once you come home. There is no need to skip it just because you can't do it yourself when I simply can help".

You see his resolve falter somewhat as he regards you. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all", you shake your head. "Wouldn't mind a hot shower to warm up in this cold house of yours". A smile tugs in the corner of your lip when you end the sentence with an exaggerated wink.

It makes John chuckle as he shakes his head before those blue eyes rise to follow you when you approach. "Don't think I could supply that need now".

"Out of us two, I'm the one who can go a bit without being dicked-down". You kiss John's cheek as you slide the jacket from his shoulder, catching the harsh sigh as you wander to hang up his piece of clothing beside yours.

"That a challenge?" He hums as his un-injured arm sneaks around your waist as you finish your task, gently turning you around to pull you towards him. "Besides, I got other ways to satisfy you". 

"Oh, I know". You give John a softer look as your hand slides down his forearm before gripping his hand, moving it to hang beside your bodies. "But let's listen to the doctor for now and let you heal up first". You offer him a smile as you back away and head into the house, John letting himself be led by you as you steer towards the stairs.

Not until you've reached his bedroom do you let go of his hand, ushering him to the bathroom as you move to his dresser. You swiftly dig through it for a new pair of pants, opting not to bring a shirt, believing neither of you could bother the hassle of attempting to put it on.

"Strip", you wave your finger towards John as you step over the threshold to join him in the en suite.

"Thought Doc's orders applied". You catch the smugness in his voice, sending him a humoured look, one he answers with a wink as he moves to sit down on the lid of the toilet. While John rid himself of the pants he'd gotten from the hospital, you place his own pair on the sink. 

While he kicks them aside, your attention falls on the white shirt still covering his upper body. A furrow enters your brows, lips pursing. It would be challenge to take it off even if you helped him, being an uncomfortable and possibly painful process no doubt.

"Just cut it off". Your eyes meet John's, checking if you heard him right. With his head falling sideways in a nod, you move to the sink drawer to fetch the scissors, silently agreeing it might just be the easiest thing to do.

Mindful of the sling and bandages, you rid John of the thin cotton shirt, leaving him in only his boxers briefs. 

While you turn around to throw the strips of his shirt into the bin, John stands, moving around you toward the shower. By cocking your hip, you swiftly close the drawer after putting back the scissors.

As you turn to say something to John, you catch him stabilising himself on the edge of the sink, knees just about to bend. Realising what he is about to do, all your previous thoughts are promptly cut short.

”You’re not kneeling on the floor." John stalls in his movement, looking at you. If he says anything in return, you don't catch it as you're already on your way out of his room.

The spare bathroom, which was under renovation the first time you visited, has now been finished. But you remember the stool John had used was yet to be taken to the spare room downstairs. Although you'd reminded him about it every time you'd been over, now you were thankful as you could fetch it as something John could sit on rather than the floor.

With a slight shuffling step, you bring the stool along with you and to where John waits, leaning against the sink, his eyes finding you the second you're visible through the open door of his en suite.

"Sit”, you motion to the stool you brought once John had moved to the side and let you set it down inside the shower's glass doors. A slight tug that doesn't evolve into a smile is present at the edge of his mouth as he follows your command.

When John makes himself comfortable on the stool, you gently nudge the back of his head with your fingers, urging him to bow forward to make it easier for you. Even sitting down, he reaches your stomach.

Pushing up the sleeves of your hoodie, you turn on the tap, testing the water steadily flowing from the showerhead on your hand. When finally finding the perfect temperature, you keep the stream gentle so as not to splash the bandages covering his left arm but rather trickle forward and down to the floor. 

Small groans of appreciation escape John as you wash his hair, fingers running over his scalp to wet every single strand before setting down the showerhead and massaging some shampoo over his head. Earthy and clean scents fill the warm air as it steams every reflective surface inside the bathroom.

You do a double cleanse, not because you think John needs it, but because he seems to enjoy the gentle pressure off your fingers as they run up and down his scalp. 

After washing away the last sudds, you take a towel from the rack and cover his head. Your laughter fills the air as you hear the huff of amusement from beneath the fabric draped over him as you attempt to dry his hair as much as possible by ruffling the fabric.

Ultimately, you slide the towel from his head, letting it hang around his neck to catch any stray droplets from reaching his shoulder. John turns towards you upon having his vision uncovered again, and you instinctively step closer when he does, inspecting his face.

”I don’t trust myself trimming your beard”, you card your fingers through the brown strands on his cheek. A low huff pulls your eyes to the blue ones steadily watching you.

”Can do that myself in a day or two. You’ve done plenty enough, love”. John’s about to stand, but your hand softly settles on his healthy shoulder.

”I only said I don’t want to go near the best part of you with scissors”.

”The best part, eh?” He pinches the back of your lower thigh, a squeak slipping out of you as you bat his hand away with a lower lip curled between your teeth.

”Don’t bite the hand that feeds you”, you chide with an evolving smile. 

You catch John’s chuckle as you switch your attention to the counter, eyeing his products as neatly lined up as usual and the set of your own products beside them. Stepping away to the sink and out of his reach, you grab one of the face towels from the stack he’d bought for you to always have at his place, along with the other products needed.

When you turn back, you set the things on the sink-edge beside you. 

”Said I can’t shape it up, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the most out of what I can do”.

”You pamperin’ me?” Your eyes flit sideways, meeting a blue gaze watching you with a tilted head.

”I’m taking care of you, John”, you corrected him as you turned to wet your hands beneath the tap and squirted some cleanser into your hands. 

John doesn't respond, only remains quiet when you start coating his face in the milky substance, merely staring up at you for a few seconds before his eyes flutter close when you cock a brow down at him.

You gently rub away the invisible grime on his face, staying clear of his beard as you lather his face. Humming gently, you wipe away the suds after a few dozen seconds and continue with the beard shampoo. 

You’d seen the man, who now lets his chest deflate with a content sigh as you easily angle his head backwards with a few fingers beneath his chin, do his beard-routine a few times. It wasn’t difficult to remember, and you’re happy you didn’t need to ask John and bring him out of the relaxed state he’d entered as you used one of the brushes to rub the product into his beard.

Using the opposite edge of the towel, you also dry off his beard. 

You wash off the white foam from the brush as you discard the towel before coating his skin in your moisturiser, only to continue by dropping some oil into your palms before you settle them over his lower face, smoothening them over the strands. 

As you shift to the sink again, you reach for his comb, only to find John’s eyes had fluttered open when you turn back. 

Those blues of his are soft as you gently comb his facial hair with slow movements. His hand settles on the outside of your thigh when you pick up the beard balm, warming it between your palms. The vanilla white lotion softens and warms between your hands before you work it through his beard. 

Slowly, John's hand moves to the back of your leg while fingers lightly start tracing the line of his beard and skin, both much smoother than previously. 

The moment was soft, gazing at one another in silence, before you cupped John's cheek and bent down. A gentle smell of something nutty from John's beard invades your nose as you press your lips against his. 

Even if you end up trading multiple kisses, the pauses never let you drift further away than for your lips to rush against one another.

John felt the last bit of tension leave his body. Something awfully soft had infiltrated his heart as you fussed around him, your hand leaving gentler touches than even the Doc had done when he’d returned from the field with his shot-up shoulder. He’d tried to ward off your help and doting, but now he realised he needed this.

He’s been on 24/7 for over a week. He’s run on less food than at home. Countless times, his mouth had watered when thinking about the roast you’d shared before his deployment. He’s run on minimal sleep for several days in a row, barely more than half asleep when given a moment of tranquillity and nowhere near as relaxed as when having you in his arms. He’d looked over his shoulder for more than double the amount, only to be hit by a bullet in the end anyway, coming home broken.

John pulls away, cupping one of the hands that rests on his cheek, turning to kiss your palm. But, when he gazes at you again, your brows draw together.

”Don’t”.

"I didn’t say anythin'"

You only shake your head. "I know what you’re thinking, and no, you're not a burden".

"But I'm a broken man at the moment, love. Just see how much you've needed to do today", he scoffs, letting go of your hand, letting his fall onto his lap. You stop John from turning his head to the side, away from you, instead forcing him to watch you.

You look down at the man who meets your gaze with an almost sorrowful look. "And you think that bothers me?"

"Why wouldn’t it? It’s not your responsibility. Should just not have gone about gettin’ shot-".

"Jonathan Price". The use of his government name shuts his grumbling right up, his eyes even widening the slightest bit. "What bothers me isn’t that you got shot. I know the dangers of your work. What does bother me is seeing you in pain".

"I appreciate it, but there’s no need for you to do all this, to care for me". His voice is softer, but you still shake your head.

"Yes, there is because I love you". You barely notice the weight of what you say, those three chosen words leaving your lips in a too-natural fashion to be the first time. But rather than reluctance preceding and nerves following them, there's a sense of them being long overdue in the first place.

"I hate how much it hurts seeing your pain, so it’s not that I need to do anything for you. I very much care because I want to, John".

Compared to a few moments ago when John wanted to turn away from you, now he can't take his eyes off you. Whatever murky emotion which clouded his eyes has lifted, those blues clearer than ever as he stares right back at you, lips slightly parted.

"I’ve said it before, but you're too good for me".

"They say you get what you deserve". You offer John a smile, and something just crumbles then.

"God, you don’t know how much I love you, darlin’".

Your chest swells, heart suddenly pumping much warmer blood through your body. "So let me take care of you now when you need it".

"I- of course", he breathes, voice remarkably thin to support his gravelly cords as he shuts his eyes tightly. John gives you a single nod instead of attempting to continue his sentence, and you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. 

His arm loops around your waist the best it can from his slumped forward angle, pulling you close so his head rests against your upper stomach. Despite his hair being wet, you card your fingers through it, kissing the top of his head, his warm exhalation warming your skin despite the thick sweater.

"Goin’ to be one hell of a Christmas". The first half of the sentence is mumbled into you, the second half clearer as John looks up at you again.

You hum, feeling how one of the strands at the back of his neck drips water onto your fingers. "I only see more of a reason to have a lazy day".

"Where you do everythin’".

"Hush, now you’ve allowed me to do the work for once". You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck, looking back into those blues.

"Still don’t want you workin’ yourself to death". He gives you an honest rather than pointed look.

"I should say that to you", you only muse lightly in return, not needing to avert your eyes to his bandages as they shine like a beacon in the corner of your vision. "And I reckon it’s going to be fine either way".

"M’sure”, his reply is hummed into the sparse space between your faces before your lips press against his in a fleeting kiss. Before you lean back and straighten, however, his hand cups the back of your neck. "Thank you for all of this, love".

"You know it’s nothing". Although John doesn’t answer as you step backwards, you don’t catch any guilt, no trace of the previous gloom in his gaze. He believes your words, the crows-feet at the edges of his eyes and smile-lines around his mouth further proof.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[thehistoryvintageantiques]

Vintage Danish Fabric Sofa

Item Number : #134

Vintage Stouby Sofa

Denmark 1980s

A vintage Danish Sofa by Stouby, Denmark. This is a lovely example in very good condition with a beech frame and upholstered in dark grey wool. If you are after a mid century Scandinavian sofa that is both comfortable and classically stylish, this may well be the one for you.

218L x 78H x 80Deep cm

Seat Height: 47cm