#everything's fine I can probably go back to sleep for 2 hours and not worry it's totally FINE 🙂 the universe hates me

[argothiathedreamer]

Trying to convince myself that my dog just has a very normal tummy ache (she's had diarrhea for the past couple of days and literally the only sign that it could be anything else is that she woke me up panting and is breathing a little fast now).

She stopped panting, she's resting as comfortably as possible, she's not retching, she's not drooling. She's probably just kinda sick.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8

Chapter 8

Masterpost

“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.

“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.

Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.

“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.

Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”

“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”

“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”

Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.

He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”

“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.

“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.

“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.

He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.

“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”

“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”

“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”

“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”

“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.

“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”

“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.

“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”

Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.

“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.

He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.

He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.

Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.

When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.

“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”

“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”

“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”

“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.

“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.

He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.

“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.

He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.

He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.

“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”

Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”

“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.

Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”

He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”

“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.

“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”

“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.

“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.

“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.

“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”

“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.

“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”

He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”

Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”

“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.

“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”

He paused. He couldn't go on.

“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.

Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.

Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.

He nodded miserably.

She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.

[orchidniins]

Forehead Kisses | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Arthur being the biggest green flag and taking care of his sick partner. Pairing: Arthur TV x gn!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word count: 1.3k+ A/N: Short one to start the week. I have a ton of requests that I'm currently working on at the moment (honestly I'm a lot slower at writing than I thought) and I'm hoping to get out 2 longer fics next week (if work doesn't keep me busy that is) 🤞 Thanks anon for the request! Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

As you step into your apartment, the door creaks softly behind you. You clutch your forehead, rubbing your temples in an attempt to ease your pounding migraine. Each step you take only worsens your body pains, leaving you feeling as though you've been hit by a truck. You shed your jacket and kick off your shoes, your body craves rest, wanting nothing more than to just curl up in bed. However, thoughts of the work you still have to complete nag at you, not wanting anything to pile up for the rest of the week.

Tossing your keys onto the table, the loud clatter disrupts the quietness of the room and you mentally curse yourself. You try to move as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Arthur, who had mentioned his plans to live stream for a few hours today. And despite your best efforts, an uncontrollable fit of coughing wracks your body, sending a sharp pain shooting up to your head again. You groan out in pain, unable to ignore the discomfort.  

Arthur was in his office in the midst of a live stream, chatting away with his viewers when he heard you from the living room. Pausing the game he was playing, he swiftly excuses himself from the stream, taking off his headset and exits the room.

You glance towards his office, the soft click of his door catching your attention. Upon spotting your red nose and sunken eyes, he doesn't hesitate for a moment, swiftly hurrying to your side. "Hey, darling, are you okay?" His voice is laced with genuine concern as he assesses your condition.

"I just had a bit of a headache, so my boss sent me home early," you shrug as you explain, trying to downplay the situation. "It's probably nothing, maybe just because it's cold and windy outside—" Your sentence is cut short by cough, prompting Arthur's concerned gaze. "Why didn't you tell me before you left for work?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "How long have you been feeling like this?", his hands come to rest on your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

"You see, this is why," you remark, sounding slightly exasperated. "Weren’t you going to stream today?" Arthur immediately responds, "Don't worry about that, darling," he assures you, still just as worried.

"I'm fine, babe," you quickly reassure him, not wanting to worry him any further, knowing he'll drop everything to take care of you. "I'm feeling better now that I'm home. I'm actually gonna get some work done." But before you can continue, Arthur shakes his head adamantly. "No work, absolutely not. You need to rest," he insists firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he gently guides you towards the bedroom.

“But…I don’t want stuff to pile up”, you attempt to protest. But Arthur remains resolute, his gaze soft as he looks at you caringly. "There are others who can handle your work for now," he insists gently. "Right now, you need rest, medicine, and some tea." 

You look back at him with a small pout, hoping to sway him, "Off to bed you go," he says, as you two step into the bedroom.

"But Arthur," you begin, whining, but he cuts you off with a pointed look. "No, Y/N," he says, giving you a pointed look.

Finally, you concede, a sigh escaping your lips. "Fine, I'll sleep for an hour, but promise me you'll wake me up so I can finish up work." Arthur simply nods, accepting the small victory.

After changing out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable, you sit down on the bed "Just stay put, I'll get you the medicine," he says, but you attempt to get up from bed, insisting, "No, no, it's fine, Arthur, I'll get it myself." However, he gently pushes you back down. "No, I've got it,"

"But what about your stream?" you worry, but Arthur dismisses your concern with a laugh. "Just sleep, darling," he urges before leaving momentarily to fetch the medicine. Returning with water and the medicine, he hands them to you. "Here, take it," he instructs, watching as you comply before he helps you settle into bed.

"Do you need more pillows or a blanket?" Arthur asks, but you quickly decline, insisting that you're fine. "You just get back to your stream. Don't leave your viewers staring at an empty chair," you joke weakly. Arthur chuckles, "You just worry about getting better," before you interject, "It’s literally nothing, Arthur. I’ll be fine after a small nap. Just make sure you wake me up in an hour okay?" He responds with a sarcastic chuckle, “Yeah sure darling”, and you soon start to feel yourself getting drowsy. He brushes the hair out of your face, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly leaving the room.

Ignoring your request, Arthur allows you to sleep for as long as you need to, making sure to check up on you every 15 minutes or so. If he hears even a peep from the bedroom, he excuses himself from his stream to ensure you're okay or to make sure you've taken your medicine, sitting beside you until you drift back to sleep.

After another 30 minutes or so, Arthur decides to end his stream early, apologizing to his viewers before quietly slipping back into the bedroom to check on you. He walks up to you and sits beside your sleeping form, noticing a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. Gently grabbing a towel, he wipes it, causing you to slowly wake up. "Sorry, sorry, go back to sleep," he quickly apologizes, feeling slightly guilty for waking you. However, you decide to sit up in bed, “No it’s fine,” you say, giving him a small smile.

He smiles softly and leans in to kiss you on the forehead, gently rubbing the sleep marks on your face. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Better," you reply with a slight smile. "My head doesn’t hurt as much." Leaning to grab a tissue, you blow your nose before asking, "What time is it?"

"It's around 7 pm," Arthur responds gently. "You've been asleep for about 3 hours."

"You told me you’d wake me up," you start to say, your tone slightly whining.

"Yeah, but you are really sick," Arthur interjects gently. "You don't need more work, you need to rest."

"But—", you begin to speak, but then you cough, a sharp pain shooting to your head. You look at him sheepishly as you groan, finally accepting, "Yeah, fine. I’m sick."

Arthur nods understandingly as he laughs at your admission. "I'll be right back, let me get you some tea," he says, getting up before quietly leaving the room.

He comes back after a few minutes, finding you sitting with your eyes closed, leaning against the headboard. As he walks in with the tea and more medicine, setting them down on the nightstand, he sits on the bed next to you, causing the mattress to dip slightly and the movement wakes you up.

"Hey, I’ve got your tea," he says softly, offering you the cup. "It'll help with your throat."

You pick it up and take a sip, feeling the warmth trickle down your throat, soothing the ache.

You look at him with a small smile, "Thank you, baby."

Arthur smiles warmly, replying, "Anything for you, love. You know I always wanna take care of you."

"I love you," you say softly, placing your palm on his hand that was resting on the mattress.

"I love you too, more than anything," Arthur responds, his eyes filled with affection.

His hand comes up to gently rub your cheek. As he leans in for a kiss on the lips, your hand comes up to cover his mouth, saying, "No, you'll get sick too. And then I’ll have to take care of you, and you’re the clingy type when you’re sick."

He feigns hurt for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Okay, okay, forehead kisses only," he agrees, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, eliciting a smile from you as he leans and places a kiss on your forehead.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[star-girl69]

Take Me To Paris

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: your girlfriend finally takes you on a vacation! …to australia.

a/n: maybe i’ll do a part 2 in which y/n almost dies of spiders and snakes and georgia almost dies of americanness… we’ll see but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!

Take Me To Paris - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: me desecrating australia, sorry y’all, um swearing, some kissing, mostly fluff, idk if this is normal but i sleep outside sometimes on the trampoline in my backyard so like… this is normal to me lol but idk, lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

You weren’t exactly scared of flying, more so just constantly aware of every little thing that can go wrong.

You can’t stop bouncing your leg, checking your phone every five seconds to make sure that it is in fact charging, you’ve rechecked your bag for your passport about 20 times, and you’re clutching your boarding pass so hard you’ve kinda crumpled it.

“Let me see your boarding pass.”

You hold out your hand to Georgia, who has been looking at you slightly concerned for the past hour, and she hands over the piece of paper wordlessly.

You scan the piece of paper, ensuring that, again, her name is on it, this is the right flight, and her seat is right next to yours.

You let out a deep breath before passing it back to her.

Everything will be fine. I’m calm. I’m so calm. It’s just a 16 hour flight.

Nevermind. You’re not calm.

“How do you do this?” You finally mutter, your bouncing leg coming to a standstill.

Your girlfriend, who is very annoyingly calm, looks up from her phone.

“Do what?”

“Like, planes. Travel. I just- are you sure it’s 16 hours?”

She smiles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure the flight I’ve taken a million times is 16 hours long.”

You let out a huff, putting your head into your hands. You’re sitting at one of those charging tables near your gate, waiting anxiously for them to finally start boarding, while Georgia stands next to you, completely unbothered.

She tuts and rubs your back. “I promise you’re going to be completely fine, yeah? You’re just psyching yourself out.”

“Okay,” you mumble, taking your head out of your hands to instead stare intently at the gate. You start cracking your knuckles absentmindedly, not even noticing you’re doing so until your girlfriend sets down her phone and grabs your hands.

“Okay, I love you very much so please don’t take this the wrong way.”

You shoot her a warning look.

“You need to calm the fuck down.”

You let go of her hands and scoff, trying to be mad at her, but she’s smiling at you- and her smile really is contagious. You never really believed it before, people having contagious smiles, and maybe you’re just in love with her, but whenever she smiles you follow soon after.

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting her fingers linger as you pointedly look away from her.

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but simply grabs your jaw and forces you to look at her other hand, now sticking her pinky out.

“I pinky promise that everything will be fine.”

“You’re a child.”

“Oh, babe,” she whispers, looking side to side. “Maybe don’t say that so loud.”

“Shut up.”

You try to hide your smile, mouth thinning into a line, but ends of your mouth curl up into a smile as she squeezes your cheeks together.

“Okay, pinky promise. I’ll even take your carry-on for you so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, you were gonna do that anyways,” you tease.

“Probably,” she shrugs. “Stop. Pinky promise. Now.”

You sigh dramatically but interlock her finger with yours.

“Okay, now, pinky promise you’ll calm the fuck down, yeah?”

“I pinky promise, or whatever.”

She tugs you towards her with the hand still on your jaw, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek- she lingers, for just a second.

“Love you.”

—-

You recheck your ticket for the same time, confirming this is the right seat.

“You want middle or aisle, babe?”

You had decided to check your bags for this flight, so Georgia is carrying both her backpack and yours, while also holding your hand through the aisles- it’s honestly pretty impressive.

“Would it be weird if I said middle?”

“Nah,” she shrugs, gesturing for you to climb into the middle seat.

You sit down, smiling politely at the man in the window seat, immediately putting up the hand rest in between you and Georgia- ignoring her smile as she sits down next to you. She starts to put your bags under the seats, but you grab yours.

You rifle through it one more time, laying eyes on your passport, your wallet, your phone charger, your book, and every other little thing before feeling calm enough to zip it up and stuff it under the seat in front of you.

“Okay,” you mumble. “I’m ready.”

Georgia gives you that same concerned look she’s been giving you ever since you got to the airport.

“Are you, like, scared of flying or something?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Traveling just makes me nervous. And it’s sixteen hours.”

“You’re gonna sleep for most of it,” she dismisses, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “There’s no way I can fall asleep.”

She smiles at you, and you stare right back, completely serious.

“Nah, you’ll fall asleep.”

“Nah,” you echo, “I won’t.”

“C’mere,” she says, wrapping her arm around you so you can rest your head on her shoulder, kind of awkwardly- but her touch and her smell is comforting. You force your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “There we go, darling,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your head, leaving her lips there to breathe you in fire a second. “Much better.”

She settles back into her own seat, putting her Airpods in and taking out her phone.

You open your eyes and stare straight ahead at the blue seat in front of you.

—-

“I seriously cannot believe you didn’t sleep that entire flight.”

You’re oddly wide awake right now. Maybe it’s just the excitement of finally being off of the airplane, or being in a brand new place- it feels different here. The air feels thicker- more humid?

“Wait, what time is it here?” You ask, seeing nothing but gaping blackness outside the huge windows of the gate.

Georgia looks at her phone, her arm looped tightly with yours as if you’re going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

“12:31.”

You frown, feeling slightly disoriented- maybe you should have slept. It’s not like you didn’t try, though. You squeezed your eyes shut for what felt like entire hours, you forced Georgia to run her hands through your hair, you listened to the most calming songs you could think of, and you simply stayed awake.

Georgia fell asleep an hour into the flight, though, and you tried to be angry at her… but eventually gave up and just let her lay practically on top of you. Which was quite a feat in economy class on an airplane, really.

“Where are we going, then?”

Georgia looked at you oddly, again very concerned- you felt kinda guilty for how worried she seems to be over you.

“We got a hotel in Melbourne for tonight, remember? ‘Cause our plane landed at midnight, and it’s an hour and a half drive to Balarat, yeah?”

The memories finally click in your brain.

“Ohhhh, yeah,” you nod. “I remember now.”

Georgia tugs you along, walking faster through the terminal. “Let’s get our bags and let’s get you into a bed. You’re kinda scaring me.”

She looks at you out of the corner of her eye.

“You didn’t sleep at all? Like, not even for a few minutes?”

“No,” you shrug.

She shakes her head. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Oh, okay,” you hum, tugging your arm away from hers. “You can sleep on the floor tonight.”

She grabs your hand and tugs you right back over to her.

“Yeah, that’ll happen.”

—-

“Oh, my God, look up, babe.”

“Huh?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from the sidewalk. You had successfully gotten your bags and a taxi to the hotel, and you were now walking along the sidewalk to the huge doors.

“Why are you staring at the ground?”

Your suitcase gets stuck on a crack, and you tug it forward. Maybe it’s because a bed is so close now, but exhaustion is really staring to set in. All you can think about is literally throwing yourself into the bed, dragging Georgia down with you, and collapsing.

“Watching for snakes and spiders.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Um, yes, I am. Australia is dangerous as fuck. Snakes, spiders, dingos, kangaroos, sharks, crocodiles, giant fucking bats? I’m not taking risks.”

“This is fucking Melbourne, not the bush.”

“What’s the bush?”

She stops and looks up at you.

“I need you to tone down the American-ness by, like, 10 please.”

“Okay, sorry,” you huff, smile crawling onto your face, the automatic doors of the hotel sliding open. “Not my fault the only thing I know about Australia is ‘G’day, mate. I’m from down under, yeah? Kangaroos and dingo babies-’”

“I will give you money to shut up.”

“Ooh, how much?”

“Whatever you want, just please, please, for the love of God stop doing that horrible accent,”

“It’s a wonderful accent,” you fake pout.

“It’s like nails on a chalkboard. I’m being so for real.”

“Whatever,” you shrug. “Can we go see kangaroos, by the way? Like I just want to go stare at kangaroos. I want to know that they’re really real, y’know?”

“Jesus Christ- you know what? Sure. We’ll go see kangaroos.”

—-

“Oh, this place is nice,” you smile, dragging your suitcase into the room and shoving it in the empty space next to the bed.

“Oh no,” Georgia frowns, staring at the bed. “I must have booked it wrong, there’s only one bed.”

“Aw, that sucks.” You sit down, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself back onto the bed. “Have fun on the floor.”

“Can we just put a pillow between us?” She asks, trying to play along with the joke but already smiling as she lays next to you on her stomach, her own shoes falling to the floor.

“No, sorry. I just feel really uncomfortable sleeping with you, seeing as you… like girls and all, and I just… I don’t support that, sorry. I don’t want to catch it from you.”

“Really?” She smiles, crawling towards you. “You’re sure you don’t like girls? Not even a little bit?”

She hovers over you, hands planted next to your head, and you wrap your arms around her neck.

“I’m so straight I actually don’t even look at girls.”

She presses a quick kiss to your lips.

You gasp but make no move to push her away. “You just assaulted me.”

“You can assault me right back, baby.”

“Disgusting,” you groan, before sliding one of your hands down to her face to push her towards you, kissing her long and slow.

She adjusts herself so her legs are now in between yours, her hand drifting down to grab at your thigh and wrap it around her waist, pulling you even closer to her, until suddenly you’re barely even kissing her, just kind of languidly going through the motions as you eyes drift shut, her comforting weight above you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs, finally pulling away for air but immediately trailing kiss down your cheek and jawline to your neck.

You turn your head to the side, yawning as you do so, letting her hand squeeze your thigh and her kisses turn into the faintest marks-

“Look! There’s a balcony!”

You try to push her away from you and sit up, but she gives you a bored look.

“I’m on top of you right now and you want to go see the balcony?”

“Yeah..? You’ll be fine,” you shrug, managing to maneuver yourself out from under her, running over to the sliding glass door and pressing your face against it.

Melbourne is spread out before you. Well, more so in the distance, you’re kinda just outside of Melbourne. There’s a few bright lights even at this hour, and you can see the faintest glimpse of the balcony-

“Aww, there’s a little couch out there!”

Calling it a couch was probably making someone roll over in their grave. It was just a two person chair made out of wicker, with a thin red cushion on it. It looked uncomfortable.

Your eyes drifted up to the stars.

“C’mon,” you urge Georgia, turning around to find her waiting for you on the bed, laying on her side with her head propped up. You start tugging the blanket off of the bed, ignoring the way she exclaims in mock outrage.

“The fuck are you doin’?”

“I want to sit outside,” you explain, switching tactics and instead grabbing her hand, trying to tug her up- but she packs a lot of muscle in that body, and you can only get her to move a few inches before she braces herself and you’re stuck.

“It’s 1 in the morning?” She says, eyebrows furrowed as she looks out at the balcony.

“Yeah,” you deadpan. “The stars are out.”

She sighs.

“You really want to go out there?”

You tug on her again.

“Yes, Georgia, please come with me. I need someone to protect me from giant bats. Also, what if I see a giant spider, have a heart attack, and die right in front of you?”

She looks into your eyes.

“Please, Georgia.”

“I do like it when you say please like that,” she sighs, corners of her mouth ticking up into a smile. You grin and place a kiss onto the back of her hand.

“Please, please, please, please Georgia, my talented sexy girlfriend, will you please sit outside with me?”

“Fine,” she groans with a smile, letting you tug her up and gather the blanket in your arms. She opens the sliding glass door and gestures you through it, of course not letting you pass by her without smacking your ass.

She goes to the edge of the balcony, leaning against it and looking out down below to the street.

“It’s cold,” she groans.

You’ve already situated yourself in the somewhat uncomfortable chair, blanket spread out over you, a perfect view of the stars in front of you- the only thing missing is your girlfriend.

“That’s why I brought the blanket, duh.”

“Smart-ass,” she teases, and you smile and open up the blanket for her. “Sure you’re comfortable being so close to me? Sharing a blanket?”

“Shut up, Georgia.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she mumbles, mocking you under her breath, but when she finally puts her arms around you any bratty comeback in your head disappears.

Her arm is around your shoulders, your head is leaning against hers, your legs intertwined under the blanket.

“I love you,” you mumble, also letting out a yawn.

She turns her head towards you, that signature big smile taking up her entire face. She presses a kiss so softly to your hairline you think there’s no possible way she could show you she loves you more.

She lets her lips linger. That’s how you know she loves you. She’s always lingering around you- chasing after your hand when you let go, kissing you too hard and immediately going back in for more, hugging you for what could arguably be called too long- she never wants to let go of you.

“Love you too,” she finally replies. One of your arms finds it’s way around her neck, hand playing with the back of her hair, her humming softly in approval. “I wanna spend everyday like this.”

You laugh a little. “Me asleep on my feet, stressed the fuck out, annoying you about Australia in a random hotel in Melbourne?”

“I mean I wanna spend everyday with you. Doing something new everyday. Even if you annoy me about Australia.”

“Aw, mate, you’re so sweet,” you reply with a small smile. She seems to choose to ignore you, and you decide to be nice and drop the accent. “I want to do everything with you. Except, maybe somewhere with less giant flying bats. How about Paris?”

“Giant fucking bats,” she mumbles to herself, blowing out air. “Where the fuck are you getting that- y’know, nevermind. Yeah, let’s go to Paris.”

“Yay,” you mumble, yawning again as you close your eyes, the pretty stars shining behind your eyes.

“Baby,” Georgia starts after a second, very softly, caressing your face to keep you awake. “I’m not sleeping out here.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine,” you mumble, kicking your leg out. “We’d be fine though. But, if the big bad Aussie girl is scared of sleeping outside, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” she says, seemingly offended even as she helps you up, grabs the blanket and keeps you close to her. “I’m not scared, babe. I just want to sleep in an actual bed.”

“Sure,” you hum, throwing yourself onto the bed and feeling Georgia lovingly place the blanket over you before climbing in beside you.

She rests her head on your chest, and everything feels so good and so right you yawn one final time, eyes shutting in a way that you know they’re not opening again.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

She kisses the bare skin of your chest, letting her lips linger.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

—-

[bitin-and-barkin]

Intertwined Fingers

What would the aftermath of your so called death look like?

Warnings: Arthur Morgan x Reader, Gender neutral reader, he's going a bit insane ngl, implied self harm, dog symbolism, smut, fun fact: Pomade was commonly used as lube in the 1800s, Dom reader, sub Arthur, soft sex (I finally did the soft sex thing), No mentions of your genetalia, you just jerk off Arthur because you wanted to take care of him tonight, sorry probably not what the people were looking for but its fine, weirdly described sex to the point where it's not even porn, just an art piece, more yandere shit in the next part but you can smell the start of it here, overuse of the word Intertwined

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT + Pt 2 to another story, Pt 1 here, Pt 3 here

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That night in the hotel room, Arthur sheepishly asked if he could stay with you for the night.

You, of course, accepted.

After climbing into bed, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

Well, he usually can't, always clinging to you like a koala bear. But especially not tonight.

Rubbing his hands up and down your chest. Feeling the grooves in your skin. The curves and marks. Wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Making sure all of his touches were gentle, as not to cause you pain.

Feeling your stomach rise and fall as you slept peacefully. Hearing your heartbeat.

Still softly sobbing, keeping it quiet so you could sleep, not daring to let go.

He felt like sinking into you in that moment.

For the first time in ages, Arthur slept peacefully. He could sleep for ages with your hands intertwined with his.

When you tried to get up in the morning, he pretended to be asleep so you'd stay with him for longer. When you tried to get up anyways?

He pretty much begged you to stay with him.

You ended up laying in bed for another hour before you finally were able to leave.

While taking you back to camp you told him about the doctors. How you already went to the one in Valentine, but they could only do so much.

He said he was gonna get a doctor to come here and properly check you out again, as he knew one that owed him some favors.

Worries of discreetness be damned.

Once you had gotten back to camp, people stared at you like they were looking at a ghost.

In fact, Sean fainted when he first saw you. They thought you were dead.

You even looked the part.

Hours had passed and it was sundown. Arthur had brought in a doctor named "Alphonse Renaud." By now, he had been in there for hours, Arthur right by his side.

His hands were soaked in blood, helping the doctor deal with everything they did to you.

The sick fucks had put nails in your legs.

Nails.

Your back was ripped to shreds, with some marks looking even like they came from whips.

They were irritated too, and Dr. Renaud guessed that they had poured whiskey into your wounds.

He was wondering how you managed to let him hold you the night before without wincing and whining out in pain.

Just imagining how much pain you must've been in, when he thought that he needed to hold you?

How much pain you must've been in when he was asking you on the ride back home if you felt okay?

He felt like the worst shit on earth.

Alphonse estimated you'd live a lifetime of numbness and pain on certain, scarred parts.

At least you weren't in pain right now.

You were currently passed out from Morphine after Arthur yelled at Swanson to help alleviate your pain, when he heard you whimper as the doctor worked.

He silently cried into his hands next to your bedside after he heard your shallow breaths.

He was scared. So fucking scared.

A 3 days passed, with Arthur watching your every movement like a hawk. He was around you 24/7. All other priorities just seemed to fade into the background.

You were fading in and out of consciousness. Going through fevers and hot flashes, scaring everybody at camp.

Whenever you were awake, you seemed to be in a trance. Muttering about things that weren't there, unable to recognize anybody. Not even your husband.

Arthur hadn't slept in that time either. Afraid that if he looked away for one second, the O'Driscolls would swoop up and take you away from him again.

He didn't even think of letting Kieran near you, your horse, or the tent you were in.

He got antsy when you got home, gaining an even shorter fuse to match. Doing everything to make the place more comfortable for you. Cleaning your bedsheets, changing your bandages. Gently talking to you about his day and asking about yours while you were asleep, that way if you woke up you wouldn't wake up alone.

Hosea insisted he needed rest. But every single time he went to bed, he couldn't sleep. Wracked with anxiety. Knowing you were just 15 feet away, safe and sound in your tent, yet still wondering where you were.

Wondering where his darling was.

He snuck into your tent later that night and sat down next to you. Coming down here just to make sure you were still breathing.

Watching your chest rise, your breaths were still as shallow as ever.

He had just gotten you back and he was already losing you again.

And with his coddling and touching, he had only made it worse.

He'd give anything to go back to the way things were.

Before you went on that shitty sniping job, god, what in fucking hell made Dutch think that was a good idea?

He'd give up all his things. He'd kill every O'Driscoll known to man. He'd break his own legs. He'd trade places with you. He'd kill himself.

Just for you to be okay.

He reached down, tracing his finger against scars that weren't there before.

He started talking softly to your sleeping body,

Saying how later he'll take you to the city and get you anything you want. He'll take you out dancing, or to the saloon, or to one of those new picture shows if you feel up to it.

How later he'll shoot Colm for what he did. Make his death slow, make him feel every ounce of pain you did. Doubled. He'll make Colm beg for mercy, then leave him to rot to death in some shithole.

How later, if that stupid Tahiti dream ever becomes realized, he'll settle down with you. Have a kid or two if you feel like it. As long as he can raise them with you.

Only you. Nobody but you.

How later, he'll build a mansion for you and you'd never have to be afraid of anyone hurting you ever again.

How he's so sorry that you had to come find him.

That you'd kill him if you died.

He heard the bed creak as he nervously chatted on and on.

Felt your fingers intertwining with his.

He turned to you, smiling.

You had awoken, and reached out to him.

He tucked your hair behind your ear.

There you were.

For the first time in a long time you were coherent. Aware. Unafraid.

And for the first time in a long time, you saw him clearly.

He took your hand and raised it to his lips, gently kissing your bruised knuckles. Asking how you felt as he did.

He looked... tired.

There were scrapes on his palms and hands, deep cutting scars. Going up and along his wrists and forearms.

Now that you think about it, when you first saw him again, his sleeves were rolled down.

He never rolled them down.

There were new gashes on his face. Along his lips and jaw. He was starting to look like John.

His cheeks were gaunt, and he had deep eyebags. As if they've been festering for months.

His hair was longer, a bit tangled too.

You're used to him being so broad, and while he still is, he looks almost underweight.

You took your other hand and reached up to his cheek, gently stroking it.

He leaned into your touch. He looked exhausted.

God, What had happened while you were gone?

He was resting his face on your hand as he held your other.

You gripped his jaw and pulled him close, softly placing a kiss on his lips.

And placing his free hand on yours, he returned it.

Bodies intertwining like a jigsaw puzzle.

He tried to pull away, wanting to give you air, but you pulled him even closer.

God, you were gonna be the death of him.

He pushed his hands under your shirt,

with you hastily undoing his belt.

Whispering to you,

"Darling, you're so pretty it hurts."

Pushing you to the bed,

placing kisses on your scars.

You pulled your hand away and placed them on his jeans, groping him through his pants.

His head whipped back, letting out a shaky moan.

Whimpering something unintelligible.

You were toying with his tits through his shirt.

Biting down, leaving hickeys along his neck.

Continuing to grope his dick, making him sport a tent in his pants.

And just looking into his eyes, and he had the look of a kicked puppy.

Just begging for you to properly touch him.

Unzipping his fly, his dick sprung out. Slapping against his stomach.

No wonder he had that look in his eyes. He'd follow you like a dog, and worship you like god. At least, it looked like he wanted to tonight.

You took his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Pressing your forehead against his, telling him to just relax, that you wanted to take care of him. Helping him take his shirt off as he whispered "Are you sure?" Asking you if you felt well enough to do this.

His breath hitching, he fumbled to untie his bandana before resorting to just rip the thing off entirely.

Peeling off his shirt just to feel you more. To touch you, as you pulled him close. Asking him to tell you just how much he missed you as pre-cum seeped out of his dick, slicking your palm.

You pulled forward and gently kissed his collarbone, licking your free hand and playing with his chest as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Biting down on his neck, his flesh soft between your teeth.

Only yours though. Only yours.

He slotted his head into your shoulder, and began to mumble, kissing your neck up and down.

Cradling your head in his palm.

Running his fingers across your bones, licking stripes against healed wounds.

To whimper and to whine, just like he did the day before.

Like a dog doing all the tricks it knew.

Fucking like two instruments playing in tune.

His eyes were glossed over, his hot breath puffing like smoke, and his words weren't making any sense anymore.

The sensual turning the sexual into the unintelligible, just repeating over and over,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you.

People in camp always talked shit about Arthur, how he was "Van Der Linde's Bitch." His dog, broken in like a wild horse. Obedient, pliable, perfect. But they're giving credit to the wrong man.

It was all you. Only you, Only you.

He arched back on the bed, crying your name as he came. His seed splattering across his stomach, into your hands.

Begging you not to leave him ever again.

Not even once,

Not even once,

Not even once.

Pleasure sparked behind his eyelids like a gunshot.

You hushing him with silent kisses, telling him to quiet down.

Letting him rut and sputter into your hands like putty until he finally came completely undone, and the only noise was his labored breathing, panting.

His hands trailed up your thighs, eager to return the favor. But you gingerly grabbed his palms and brought them up to your lips.

Oh so gently kissing his knuckles, just like he did for you.

His eyes were still red from crying. Months of grief released in a week.

You pulled his face close, kissing him on the cheek.

Pulling him down into bed, slotting your hips in between his.

Sleeping together,

with your hands intertwined.

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Should I keep this story going???

@yyiikes

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: The Art of Letting Go

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Only know you love her when (she lets you) go

(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort

Words: 7.9K

TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3

December 2023

A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream. 

She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching. 

And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours. 

It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever. 

It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.

“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor. 

“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”

“Zoe-”

“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”

Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face. 

“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”

“Please-”

“Z-”

“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears. 

“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully. 

It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could. 

“This isn’t about-” 

Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.

“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore. 

Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs,  “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”

“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”

Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door. 

“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”

***

She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend. 

It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again. 

The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-

“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them. 

“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up. 

“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be. 

“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively. 

Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”

Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel. 

“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”

Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision. 

She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes. 

“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend. 

“I think she crashed-”

“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe. 

“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”

“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy. 

“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”

No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. 

“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”

Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”

“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line. 

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”

Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash. 

“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t. 

“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”

“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”

Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her. 

“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up. 

“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears. 

“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart. 

***

74 missed calls from Paige

did u go to the hospital 

pick up ur fucking phone 

dude

azzi

this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit 

PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE 

AZZI 

just say ur ok at least

please 

called ur mom 

said u had a concussion and some bruising 

thats not too bad 

ur so fucking stupid 

it could be so much worse 

please pick up 

AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE 

so u can call carol and not me ok 

thats just fucking perfect

dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights 

so maybe just pick up 

or call me back

u wanna play this stupid game fine 

ignore me for now

but i’mma be in dc for christmas

ur gonna have to talk to me 

i know where u live 

***

The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life. 

It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms. 

“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red. 

Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”

Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”

“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable. 

The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare. 

“What?”

“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb. 

“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”

“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”

“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it. 

Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige. 

“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”

“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”

Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway. 

“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”

“Well isn’t it?” 

“Of course n-”

“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige?  If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”

Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”

“Azzi c’mon-”

“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”

Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”

“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”

“I don’t-”

“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”

When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her. 

“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”

“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity. 

“Had.”

“What?”

Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”

“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation. 

“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”

“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”

The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again. 

“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word. 

“That’s not fair. I was really fucking  hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.

“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”

“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is. 

“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”

It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start. 

“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”

Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping. 

“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”

Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-

“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”

Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes. 

The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks. 

“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset. 

Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means. 

“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”

“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”

“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better. 

“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”

Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”

“Well tough luck because I do.”

“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her. 

“Goodbye Paige.”

***

December 2024 

azzi please just let me in 

ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me 

and i get it 

but i can fix this i swear 

i know u know im here

please fucking let me in 

i fucked up 

i know 

im so fucking sorry

but dude we can fix this

just 

can u just fucking let me in

i really wanna see u 

i really wanna talk 

can we just fucking talk 

please 

merry christmas az

u know what fuck u actually 

didnt mean that sorry 

i was just mad 

u make me really fucking mad 

christmas breaks almost over 

i have to go back soon and ik u do too

we should talk before that 

ur so fucking stubborn 

but so am i

im not giving up 

i won’t 

January 2024

hi 

i miss you

ur really fucking annoying

not texting me back

but its fine

i’ll just fucking spam 

i had an ok day today 

practice was kinda ass 

not me tho

i was great

as always 

bet i made more threes than you did 

bro im watching ur game

and

what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up 

get in the gym az jfc 

oh that was a good pullup

not better than mine

but decent 

been a fucking month azzi 

just fucking call me back 

or text me idk 

i miss u 

sooooooooooo

hows ur day

good? good.

hows mine?

oh kinda shit 

lets see

we lost in front of all these uconn legends

to their fucking rival 

everyones saying uconn fucking sucks 

some people are saying i suck

they might not be completely wrong 

now would be a good time to reply az 

like maybe make me feel better

fuck u actually 

what the fuck am i doing 

idk if u even read these 

February 2024

idk maybe i should stop 

like maybe only fucking psychos do this 

but idk bro 

i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually 

well sc was a shit show 

i mean we knew it but holy shit 

i really wanna talk to you about it

it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling 

and u giggling 

fuck i miss ur laugh

i miss you

idk if u just ignore these

so idk if ur gonna even see this 

but 

i wanted to tell you first 

before u saw it from somewhere else 

im staying at uconn 

u were right

i didnt want to leave yet 

i want my 4 years

but 

just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said

that i dont wanna be in la with u

i do

its not about that

i just need to do whats best for me

and thats staying here 

fuck

i get what u meant now

u didnt pick ucla over me

fuck fuck fuck 

im sorry az

is this how u felt 

when i didn’t text u back 

because it’s actually fucking hell 

i miss you so fucking much dude

i’m so sorry 

i’m really fucking sorry azzi 

for all of it

please just call me back

March 2024

last pac-12 tournament mvp!!

dude i’m so proud of you

we also won 

idk if u heard 

it wasnt easy either 

everything just always fucking goes wrong 

fucking pisses me off 

but oh well 

u know i dont even like texting 

idk how many messages ive sent u 

its gotta be hundreds atp 

insane shit on my part 

tf is wrong with me 

did u see the bracket

see u in the final 4 azzi 

April 2024 

i fucking told u 

i told you id see u in the final four

fucking meant it

fuck 

gonna kick yalls ass

revenge szn

we’re built different in march

cleveland here we fucking go 

but also

cant avoid me anymore 

i cant fucking wait to see you az  

***

UConn 87     UCLA 84 

There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi. 

“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball. 

When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again. 

The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands. 

The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way. 

But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige. 

The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place. 

“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out. 

The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”

***

When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too. 

“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard. 

“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”

“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it. 

“I-uh-” 

“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”

Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over. 

“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”

“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity. 

Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them. 

“Hi,” Paige says softly. 

Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”

“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”

“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”

Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down. 

“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly. 

“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”

“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”

“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’

“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters. 

“Paige please.”

“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”

Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again. 

“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs. 

Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her. 

“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten. 

“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”

Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing. 

Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”

They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling. 

“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her. 

“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”

Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper. 

“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”

[writersmess]

VIVID DREAM | EVAN BUCKLEY

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck accidentally calls you in the middle of the night and you didn’t expect the night to end the way it did.

Requested by @jessysapphireblue

May I perhaps request our beloved buck and a fem reader? Like she is an absolute sweetheart? Like buck calls her accidentally in the middle of the night and she picks up like directly and buck explain that He didn’t meant to but she just humms and both hung up, ONLY to see her arrive like a few min later at the Station to visit with some Snacks for the rest because buck told her how He missed her? I bet this guy would melt with happiness 🥰🥰

Warning: fluff

Word count: 1k

a/n: Hi sweetie thank you so much for the request, I loved it so much!!! One of the things that makes me really excited about is writing about this sweetheart. I apologize for taking so long, life has been crazy lately. I hope you enjoy it!!! And I apologize if there’s any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Masterlist

Part 2

...........................................

“hello?” you answered the phone confused and sleepy.

“hi babe, i’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late”

You finally looked at the clock and realized that it was already dawn.

“buck baby? Is everything okay?” you sat up in bed worried. The 24-hour shifts were the worst, you had to sleep alone and you were constantly worried about your boyfriend who spent the night at work.

“i’m fine, I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry to wake you up” you could feel that he was not okay at all. It must have been a difficult shift. “please babe, go back to sleep. when you wake up I’ll probably already be back home and then we can cuddle a little”

“okay baby, love you”

“love you more”

You ended the call and started to get ready to leave. Buck needed you. he wasn’t usually so vulnerable, so when he showed these kinds of emotions, you took the opportunity to show all the care and love you had for him. and while Buck thought you were asleep, you were getting ready to meet him.

You picked up the cookies you had made earlier to take to work the next day, and decided that your boyfriend and his friends would enjoy them more. you stuffed some more snacks into your bag and headed toward the station.

As soon as you arrived at the station, you found the place empty. after greeting the fireman who had stayed behind, he explained that they had just left on a call and might took a while. you went to the kitchen and arranged the snacks and cookies on the counter and decided to make some fresh coffee, you knew that Buck drank coffee like water, especially on these long shifts. you decided to wait on the couch after preparing everything, but ended up dozing off.

Buck was the first to get off the truck and take off his uniform, he was exhausted and desperately needed a cup of coffee. he had been so stressed lately, things had not been easy at work and working such long and turbulent shifts was wearing him down. he was dying to get this shift over and run home to you.

To say that he was surprised to see you was an understatement. he hadn’t expected this at all, and as he smelled the fresh coffee and cookies on the countertop, he knew it was your doing. when Buck saw you curled up in the corner of the sofa, his heart ached with love for you. you did it for him. you were there for him.

He watched you for a few seconds before he decided to wake you up, and he didn’t really need to, since you woke up when you heard voices in the background.

“hi baby” he murmured close to you as soon as you awoke.

“hi babe, was I asleep?” you asked confused.

“yes sweetie” you noticed that smile on his face. “what are you doing here?”

“you called me” you answered and could see his eyebrows frowning.

“what? honey it was an accident, I didn’t realize it was so late-“

“but you called me, and I knew you needed me. so I came for you”

That was it.

Buck was about to burst into tears. you were so precious, so caring, so loving. the way you cared for him, no one had ever done that before. he needed you by his side for the rest of his life. you were the color in Buck’s gray life. you were everything.

“marry me” he said before his brain could even processed the thought.

“what?” you froze, this was definitely a dream.

Chim and Eddie who were drinking coffee on the counter almost choked when they heard the dialogue between the two lovebirds on the sofa. Eddie and Buck had talked about this so many times, they had discussed the ways that Buck could have proposed and none of them had been this way. Chim couldn’t wait to tell Maddie and Hen about it.

“babe it’s 4 in the morning, are you sure this is what you-“ you started to say fully awake now. your eyes were wide open and your heart was about to burst out of your mouth.

“i mean, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, I-I don’t even have the ring here with me and I had it all planned but, but I-I love you more than anything and the only certainty I have in this life is that I want to spend it by your side. I’ve never been so loved and cared for before and I want to be able to repay that love for the rest of our days, y-you are so much more than I wished for, more than I dreamed of”

He finished and his eyes were filled with tears. and yours could not even hold back the tears from falling. a few minutes ago you were asleep in your bed, and now you were sitting on the sofa in the station about to accept the marriage proposal from the love of your life.

“of course I’ll marry you. i love you so much” you approached him and kissed him tenderly, just the way he loved and longed for everyday and every second of the day.

Buck could have prepared a thousand ways to propose, but nothing would never compare to him just being himself in the middle of the night, expressing his love in the most spontaneous and genuine way possible.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your days by his side.

[svltzmans]

take care - f.g.

a/n: i'm so grateful for these fiona requests, thank you so much! writing for her is comforting for me ❤️‍🩹 i promise i'll get back to writing for other characters soon though!

warnings: reader is sick (but it all turns out fine!), very fluffy of course (not proofread though)

when y/n wakes up in a cold sweat, she can tell something is terribly wrong.

each swallow feels like a mouthful of glass, breathing through her nose is impossible, and her body feels like it's engulfed in invisible flames.

forcing herself to turn to read the clock, she sees that it's still the middle of the night. 2:30 a.m., to be exact.

how could she have gone to bed a few hours ago feeling completely fine?

y/n's first instinct is to grab her phone and text the only person she knows who may be awake at this hour. solitude isn't exactly her favorite, especially when she's sick. she could use someone to chat with.

are you awake?

she clicks send, rolling back over onto her pillow. she's exhausted, yet sleep seems impossible. before she can even think about trying to fall back asleep, her phone dings.

what's going on? it's late baby.

her girlfriend, fiona, is usually quite the night owl. she spends most of her days catering to other people, including her siblings, so her evenings are the time she reserves for herself.

is it healthy? probably not. fiona finds time to sleep at some point in her busy life, and y/n tries not to think about it too much to avoid the inevitable worry she would feel.

i think i have the flu or something.

fiona writes back almost immediately.

i'm coming over.

y/n forces herself to sit up, realizing that her girlfriend is probably being serious.

fi, it's the middle of the night.

go to sleep and you can come in the morning.

hello?

y/n knows it's no use, and she's proven correct when she hears a light knock on the door.

when she opens it, fiona is standing in the hall with several cans of soup, an entirely-too-big box of medicine, and a 12-pack of sports drinks.

"you're out of your mind," y/n laughs, voice scratchy.

"i am not, my girl is sick and i'm taking care of her."

"what about the kids?" y/n feels concerned realizing the rest of the gallaghers are alone in the house.

"they're asleep, first of all," fiona laughs. "but i asked v to make sure everything is fine. she's awake too, believe it or not."

"where did all this stuff even come from?"

"24 hour stores are a thing, you know. any further questions?" fiona laughs at her own sarcasm before grabbing hold of y/n's hand.

"c'mon, you're getting back in bed."

"i'm awake now, though."

"not for long, pretty girl," fiona replies.

before she knows it, y/n is in fiona's arms, being carried bridal style to her bedroom.

fiona sets y/n on the bed gently, pulling the covers over her.

"aren't you gonna get in too?"

"well duh, i didn't come here for nothing. but i'm going to get you medicine first."

when fiona returns, she's carrying a bowl of soup, along with the medicine she promised and a glass of water.

"i thought you were just getting me medicine," y/n teases, seeing that fiona had outdone herself.

"you know i can't help myself. now, take this and eat your soup."

fiona sits next to y/n in her bed, pushing her hair behind her ears and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"jesus, you're burning up. my poor girl," fiona coos, wrapping her arms around y/n.

"fi, i'm gonna spill the soup."

fiona pulls away, forgetting that y/n's hands were very much occupied with a hot bowl.

she can't help but giggle as y/n drinks some of the broth before putting the bowl on her bedside table and returning fiona's hug.

"can we watch a movie?" y/n asks, even though she already knows the answer.

"you have to pick it though, you know i'm indecisive," fiona responds before leaning in to kiss y/n.

"fi! you're gonna get sick!"

"i don't care and you know it. wanna kiss my girl."

melting at fiona's words, y/n allows fiona to kiss her, feeling her body heat up and knowing it isn't because of her fever.

when y/n and fiona finally separate, y/n turns on her television, resting her head on fiona's shoulder.

"lay down, silly," fiona insists, letting y/n rest her head on her chest.

"can we watch that musical? the one about the wedding on the island or whatever?"

"babe, we watched 'mamma mia' last time i was here."

"i'm sick, you can't say no to me."

"i can't say no to you ever. i'll put it on, you rest."

20 minutes into the film, y/n had already fallen asleep, her head still rested on fiona.

fiona smiles to herself, admiring her sleeping girlfriend. it isn't long before she falls asleep herself, arms around y/n.

y/n wakes up the next day to find that it's already after noon, and that she's actually starting to feel better.

her nose had cleared significantly, and although her throat was still sore, she considered it a win.

finally standing up and walking to the kitchen, she's surprised to see fiona hovering over the stove, evidently cooking.

"good morning, sleepyhead. how you feelin'?" upon closer inspection, y/n sees that fiona is cooking pancakes.

"better, actually. i can't believe you left me in bed alone, though," y/n teases, wrapping her arms around fiona's waist from behind.

"only to make you breakfast, my love. or lunch, seeing as you slept until 12:30."

"i forgive you, but only because the food smells good."

"oh, just be quiet and eat your pancakes."

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (2)

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, crying, bb got traumaaa! ambiguous relationship. panic attack this chapter, as well as discussions of death/canon typical (offscreen) violence

Word Count: 3,431

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

The slide of your living room balcony door lets you know he's there. You're on your own Earth, in your own apartment. The hour is impossibly late, your night out as the city's Spider having only recently ended. Everything had been going just fine.

Until, of course, it hadn't.

You barely register the sound of your bedroom door creaking open.

If you’d just been a few seconds faster, reacted to your spidey-senses quicker, that woman would still be–

“What happened?” His voice is right next to you.

Just like the first time he’d found you amongst rubble, you curl further in on yourself, your back against your dresser in your upright fetal position. You squeeze into yourself so hard it feels like the first stages of a core-collapse supernova. But the inward pressure doesn't stop the sobs from escaping.

“Hey,” Miguel says in his softest voice. “Hey. Breathe.”

You try, but it comes out in that sort of mutilated-dying-dinosaur stuttering and scraping gasp way that seems to bookend hyperventilation.

“Hey, look at me,” he says again. “I’m gonna—Can I put my hand on your shoulder?”

You shake your head furiously, you know touch will only send you into fight or flight right now.

“Okay, okay,” he reassures. “No touch. Can you look at me?”

A deep shuddering breath, and you look up from where your head had been buried against your knees. Miguel is kneeling in front of you, and when his frame is this close to you it takes up your whole field of vision. He's in his suit, unmasked, the luminescence of the red paneling casting a soft glow reminiscent of a neighboring house fire through cotton curtains.

“Okay, good, good job,” he praises. “Eyes on me. In,” he breathes in, exaggerating the movement of it in his body, moving his hand up to show in.

You follow along, vision blurry and face twisted and wet. You manage to breathe in, though not as smooth as him. You pull the air in, shaky, interrupted by a cracked sob you try to cut off.

“It's okay,” he says at your mid-breath sob, and then; “Now breathe out, like me,” and he blows the air out through his rounded lips.

You follow suit, breathing out shakily, before a short barking laugh escapes at a sudden realization, the self consciousness at a strange discordance with the rest of your emotions.

His brow twitches in confusion, but he continues on.

“I’m not wearing a shirt,” you laugh hysterically, face and stomach scrunching with the abruptness of it.

It's true—you had gotten out of your suit and into pajama bottoms before you had broken down in the midst of getting out a sleep shirt, which you have been pressing against your face and sobbing into and is now probably about 25% saltwater.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles, glancing away then meeting your eyes again. “Just breathe, we'll worry about your shirt later. Come on,” he begins his outward breath over again, gently moving his hand down through the air as a guide for the pace.

“Your lungs are way too big,” you dissolve into laughter at the length of his breaths, still trying to breathe out through your mouth. You laugh even more when he finishes his outward breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

A few more rounds of breathing in and out (“Come on, stop it,” a chuckling Miguel says at one point, failing not to laugh too, when you burst into hysterical giggles a third time. “Try to focus on breathing.”) and soon you’ve calmed down just enough, your tears still falling though now they're coming slower and gentler.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You shake your head a little too fast, and it hurts your dried out skull. “Shirt first.”

He blinks, looking up over your head. “Right.” Then he stands, leaning over you to pull open the drawer above your crouched form with your sleep shirts. When he crouches down again he hands you your biggest, softest shirt. One he knows you like.

Miguel offers an outstretched hand, red palm up. You cling both shirts—salt soaked and otherwise—to your body in one hand out of some combination of comfort and modesty, then you put your other hand in his and let him pull you up. As soon as you're on your feet he gives you a quick look over, before turning his back and moving to the door. You see now that he's holding the stack of clothes you keep for him.

After he’s left the room and you hear the soft click of the bathroom door down the hall you drop the wet shirt on the floor and pull on the new dry one, sliding into your unmade bed and doing your best to straighten out the blankets over your body.

You’re still struggling with the blanket when your bedroom door cracks open, Miguel returning quietly. He’s carrying his folded suit, so when he slips through the door he stops and sets it on your chair with your own suit and jacket. He starts to take a step from the chair towards you, pauses, and then grabs your bloody suit and leaves again. You hear the sound of the kitchen sink, and then he’s back empty handed.

You’re still wrestling with the blanket.

“Dios mio, it’s like you’ve never encountered a goddamn blanket,” he mumbles, taking it from your hands and going to straighten it out.

You look up at him. He pauses.

“What did you do to this thing?” He asks, brow furrowing as he struggles to untangle the blanket. You stifle a laugh, but it builds, eventually bursting out like an overflow of bubblebath over the side of a tub.

Eventually he figures the blanket out, mumbling under his breath as he lays it across you and sliding into the bed.

“Shit, I should have some water,” you mumble and start to get up.

A gentle hand on your upper arm stops you, and Miguel rises from the mattress as the soft press of his hand compels you to lay back down. He leaves, you hear water being poured, and then he’s back.

“I meant to get a cup for you after I changed,” he says quietly, handing it over and standing over you with hands on his hips until you’ve gulped down at least half the cup. Satisfied, he gets back under the blanket with you as you set the water on a bedside table. When you turn around, he has an arm open for you, an invitation you can freely accept or deny. It's not always holding one another and comforting embraces when he visits—sometimes the other persono just needs to be near another living thing.

But you accept, this time. It's your turn to bury your face into his chest for comfort.

“Now do you want to talk about it?” He asks, and despite his hesitant tone, you know he cares enough to listen if you do.

You press your forehead further into his sternum, just below his clavicle.

“A mugging,” you whisper, but you know he can still hear you. “I was seconds too late. Bullet wound. She bled out.”

His arms tighten around you as your body tenses, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

“I waited too long, I should have–”

“You’re still human,” he interrupts you. “Stop that.”

“Miguel–”

He interrupts you again, saying your name. “No. Don’t do that to yourself.”

You fall quiet, stiff in his arms. He sighs, running a hand up and down your spine.

“The guilt is normal. It’s never easy, not when you feel you could have done something else…” his hand on your back stops for a moment as he trails off, and he sighs yet again, resting his cheek on your head as he holds you. His hand resumes its soothing touches. “But it doesn’t do any good to beat yourself up. We just try to do better next time.”

Your body relaxes, slowly.

“She was so scared,” you whisper. “I couldn’t do anything, and she was so scared.” The tears start to come again. The salt burns your already raw, dry eyes, the hot and thick drops flowing freely as you bury your face in his shirt.

Then Miguel does something he’s never done before, hesitating before taking the leap.

He kisses the top of your head.

Again, it isn't always crying and comfort. It’s usually business and the busyness of trying to balance your triple-life; work and the few friends you still have along with Spider duties on your own earth, and then helping other Spider-People on other earths capture anomalies and bringing them back to Miguel and Margo to be sent home.

And Miguel isn't the only visitor. Sometimes Gwen crashes at your place when she’s not with Hobie, who’s also visited once or twice with her. Eleven years her senior, it feels more like having a much younger, cooler sister come to visit from out of town so your parents can go on vacation to a swingers cruise. Or something.

“I don’t have a lot of groceries, so first things first: I’m dragging you to the store with me,” you say to Gwen as you step through the portal into your living room, pulling off your mask. She follows through right behind you.

“Fine by me. I’ve been craving those weird cookies from last time. Hobie doesn’t have them in his dimension, and they definitely don’t have them in Nueva York.”

You chuckle, heading toward your room. “We’ll make sure to get some extras for you then. And I’ve got your duffle bag from last time stashed in here. I washed everything, since last time we got kinda crazy with the balcony plants.”

Gwen follows you and leans on the door frame, giving a cursory glance over your room as you crouch to pull out her duffle bag from your closet. When you stand and turn to hand her the strap of the bag, she quickly straightens up and her eyes snap towards you—you know her well enough to recognize the sparkle of curious glee in her eyes, the careful poker-faced smile covering up a grin.

“Thanks!” she says, ignoring your suspicious look, taking the duffle bag and disappearing to change in the bathroom.

You turn and look around your room, searching for what might have prompted that reaction. Your eyes land on Miguel’s sleep-over clothes from that night nearly a week ago when he had found you crying, still hanging loosely over the back of the armchair.

“Jesus,” you mumble, taking them and stuffing them in the dirty laundry hamper, face hot.

An hour or more later, you’ve gone and returned from the grocery store with Gwen. Music plays on your apartment speakers, and golden sunset light streams in through windows and the sliding glass doors of the balcony. You’ve made stir-fry with Gwen, serving it on mismatched thrift store dishes, and now the two of you make your way to the small table on your tiny balcony to eat outside while the music from indoors drifts out to mingle with the ambience of the city.

“Thanks for letting me crash here again,” Gwen says, putting her feet up in the third empty chair.

“Of course,” you smile at her, setting your glass of water on the tiny coffee table.

You both eat for a moment in silence, enjoying the warmth of the slowly fading light and the sounds of the city. Somewhere someone is practicing violin.

“Sooooo,” Gwen rolls her head to look at you. “Who’s the guy?”

You nearly choke on the rice.

“Jesus,” you finally say, washing it down with water and thumping your chest. “What guy?”

“You know,” she says, looking at you sidelong with a raised eyebrow. “The one who left a t-shirt and sweatpants in your room?”

You shake your head, taking in a breath and looking off into the peachy sky. God help me. “There’s no guy, it’s not like that. He just stays here sometimes—”

“Wait, so is it ‘no guy’ or there is but it’s not like…?” she drops her feet off the extra seat and leans towards you, “You said he stays here sometimes, though? So there’s something.”

“Oh my god, Gwen, no,” you can feel your face getting hot. “No, it’s not like that.”

“You said that already,” she kicks her feet back up, grinning. “Do I get to meet him?”

“No. Eat your vegetables,” you roll your eyes and kick the leg of her chair, making her wobble and catch her balance with her spider reflexes.

“Okay, okay! Touchy,” she says, no real venom or irritability in her voice. You both resume eating, small smiles on your faces.

Gwen joins you on patrol that night, helping you stop a convenience store robbery and web up a guy trying to break into his ex-girlfriend's apartment. You’re done and home by one in the morning, and by one-forty-five, she’s asleep on your couch with the soft light and sound of the tv still playing.

There’s no real reason for Miguel to be here tonight, in this dimension. He knows this, he’s told himself this, and he’s ignored it. It’s just that… he’s having trouble sleeping. Jess, Lyla, and even Peter B. Parker all told him he should sleep more, that he should take care of himself.

There’s other ways he could try to deal with his insomnia, of course. It’s not like there aren’t sleep-aids on Earth-928 (Would those even work the same on me still? he wonders). He tells himself he mostly wants to check in on you after last week. You’ve seemed alright when you’ve passed at Spider Society HQ, when he’s seen you on the security cams laughing with Peter B. Parker and his daughter, May. But if there’s one consistent feature across the multiverse it’s that Spider-People like to hide whatever’s going on under the surface, like house cats and wild animals afraid to show weakness for fear of predators. Better to ask you in private, in person.

Miguel sees the faint glow of your television through the balcony doors of your apartment as he swings closer. You’ve told him once that you try to avoid blue light this late since it affects sleep quality, so the fact that you’re watching tv at this hour reads to him as a sure sign that he’s made the right decision to come check in on you.

Miguel engages the light byte cloth to soften his landing on your balcony, straightening up from a crouch to stand, sliding open the glass doors—

Thwip!

His hand is webbed to the jam.

And that’s definitely not you on your couch, sitting up from under one of your spare blankets, with your pillow on one end.

“...Miguel?”

Shit.

Gwen glances at your bedroom door. “Are you two…?” She trails off into awkward silence.

Miguel doesn’t know what to say, though he suspects he knows what Gwen is asking.

“...No.” He turns his head to look down the darkened hallway of your apartment—now noticing the sound of your shower—then looks back at Gwen, tearing his hand free from her webbing.

Gwen stares at him.

Miguel stares at her. A small seed of unease plants itself in his chest.

“This is weird,” she says.

“You’re not on Earth-138,” he replies.

The sound of your shower stops.

“I uh, I crash here sometimes.”

“I can see that.”

Silence. Gwen glances once between the hallway and Miguel when the sound of the bathroom door clicking open carries down the hall.

Miguel turns his masked head towards your approach, his body still facing Gwen. He’s already looking at your eyes the moment you stop in your tracks, your eyes snapping to where his are underneath his mask.

“Miguel,” you hiss, eyes wide, sweeping your arm out towards the couch. “Gwen’s sleepi–”

He also sees the way your brain seems to freeze when your gaze moves to the couch and sees Gwen is sitting, wide awake, and looking right back at you. He sees some unspoken conversation between the two of you, Gwen’s eyes widening at you as if to say I was so absolutely right about something, yours widening as if to say Whatever you’re thinking is so absolutely incorrect, please believe me.

“Lyla said your watch needs maintenance.”

Both your heads whip to look at him. The seed of unease wobbles.

“Oh,” you say, and Miguel gets the distinct impression that you’re trying not to look at Gwen, trying to play it casual. “So you came to pick it up…?”

“Figured that would be best. In case something was really wrong, and you tried to use it. And got turned into a shocked up Cronenberg creature.”

“A what?”

“It’s an Earth-616 media reference,” you explain quickly, still looking at Miguel. “Uh, I’ll just grab the watch really quick.”

He inclines his head, and watches you disappear into your room. Would it be weird if he followed you in? There’s no way he’s going to get to talk to you tonight with Gwen here, much less stay over—

“Here it is,” you reemerge, holding the watch. “Uh, how long will it take to…?”

Miguel steps closer, taking the watch from you. “I can do it now, but you’re getting ready for bed so maybe I’ll just bring it back in the mo–”

“I don’t mind,” Gwen says. “If it’s only gonna be a little bit, why bother leaving and then coming back?”

You both look at Gwen, Miguel turning to look at you again while you stare at Gwen. He tries not to shift on his feet while the two of you stare silently at one another.

“Yeah, uh, you can use my desk in here,” you finally turn to face Miguel, nodding your head towards your room. “So Gwen here can go back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired–”

“I’m making you catch up on homeschool shit tomorrow, while you’re here,” you raise an eyebrow at her. “I know you’re behind.” Gwen groans. “So get some rest.”

“Alright, alright,” Gwen flops back down on the couch.

Miguel watches this exchange, the tight, pitted feeling in his chest disappearing inside a warm cocoon. You catch his attention again, nodding towards your open bedroom door for him to go in. He goes past you, letting his mask dissolve back into the body of his suit. The bedroom door clicks shut, and he turns to face you, mouth open with a ready apology, only to find you with your head buried in your hands.

“Oh my god,” you say. “Now Gwen thinks we’re fucking.”

Oh.

“I haven’t done laundry, haven’t needed to since you washed my suit for me after… After that woman died,” your voice catches, but you continue on. “So your sleepover clothes were just on the chair, and Gwen saw and assumed I’d been having a guy over, and then you show up at like two in the morning,” you drag your hands down your face, finally meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t realize she stayed here sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, she can’t just move in with Hobie, and HQ is no place for a kid to live full time. It’s too busy.”

He doesn’t disagree. HQ is hardly a home. Maybe that has something to do with–

“The watch maintenance isn’t real though, right?”

“No,” he says, tossing it back to you with a gentle underhand throw. “I just…”

“Yeah,” you catch it effortlessly, nodding. He watches your hands turn it over and fidget with it, watches you checking the screen.

“I wanted to see how you are. After last week.”

Your hands still. He watches you swallow, your shoulders freezing.

Nope, there it is—the pit wasn’t in the warm cocoon, it was just sneaking down into his gut.

“I’m alright, just... Y’know.”

He nods. He knows.

“If you need anything…”

You nod.

“...I should go.”

You nod again, and he feels the knot in his stomach start to grow, before only the size of an olive pit, now swelling to a peach stone.

“Just… With Gwen here,” you say. “I don’t…”

He nods again too. “I know.”

And then he’s opening a portal, filling your room with brilliant orange light, the objects in your room flickering and starting to move. He steps through with a quick glance back at you, and then the portal closes on your apologetic face and he’s alone in the dim light of his lab.

He doesn't sleep very well that night.

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[dc418writes]

•Daddy Dare Care•

✨Pairing✨: mechanic!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄 : Ari’s bright idea to stay with the girls to give you a break may not go as smoothly as he thought (Operation: Rekindle addition)

⚠️: dad!Ari (truly a menace Lol), all fluff💕

A/N🎙️: Just something short and sweet. It started out a bit self indulgent since it was my birthday on April 18th☺️, but since that has definitely passed and it switched to Mother’s Day (which also has since passed🫠 lol). Either way, we now have a change in celebrations! Hope you guys like it! *If I can push myself, I have 2 other belated bday/self indulgent fics I want to put out but we’ll see!*

*DISCLAIMER!*: Although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of any pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest

“Ari, you sure you’re gonna be okay?,” you ask in a hushed whisper daring not to wake your sleeping twins. As angelic as they looked at this moment in their matching bassinets, long lashes resting peacefully against their cheeks, you wouldn’t believe they were screaming like mad men an hour before.

Aliana was hungry, but wouldn’t take your breast milk from the bottle her father so nicely warmed for her. She wanted it from the source, which wouldn’t have been an issue if her sister Brynn wasn’t so keen on staying attached to you today.

So unsurprisingly, she wasn’t happy when you and Ari had to trade.

And sensing her sister wasn’t happy, Aliana therefore would not feed and instead cried in solidarity with her sister.

Like she’s done pretty much every other day since you’ve moved in, Mrs. Holloway shuffled her way across the hall knocking on your door to check on your little family and make sure everything was fine after over 15 minutes of wailing. Although a very sweet gesture, you really weren’t in the mood for her “what I used to do is…” at that current moment.

“I probably shouldn’t even be-,”

“Y/N it’s Mother’s Day. You deserve to get out the house and have a break,” Ari responds. “Go and have fun, we’ll be good.”

You honestly felt guilty how much you longed for more than the monotonous cycle that was your life these past months. Not a complete change, just a little twist in the routine if you will

Seeing your friends going out for dinner and on trips made you miss your college days of exploring the city or those around. Not caring about what time you came back because you only had yourself to worry about.

Yes you knew you needed a break - your doctor and the girls’ pediatrician always emphasized that during your respective appointments - but you honestly felt like you didn’t deserve it. As your mother said when you announced your pregnancy, “Say goodbye to whatever you consider fun and the life you had before. It’s now solely about those two until they’re good and grown. Heck even past that really.”

By the time you realize you’re crying, Ari’s already wiping away the lone tear with his thumb sweetly smiling at you as he caresses your cheeks.

“Baby I know it’s hard, but this is good for you. It’s okay to have a life outside of our girls.”

“Is it though?,” you whisper. “What if 20 or so years from now they need therapy because I wasn’t there?”

“…Well seeing that they’re infants, I doubt they’ll even remember this,” Ari lightly chuckles successfully making you smile - even if for only a few seconds. “Plus it’s only a few hours sweetheart. It’s not like you’re leaving for good. At least I hope not.”

His feigned suspicion and playful, narrowed eyes make you giggle as you lightly shake your head. “I’ll admit that was a bit dramatic.”

“But it’s just you being a concerned mama, which I understand.”

There he was being that grounding force you always needed. Helping quiet the noise from your brain to bring you a step closer to peace.

His warm palms still on your cheeks as you gazed into his eyes, you were happy to have him back - unfortunately only just for a short amount of time.

Ultimately, he was your center and from his absence you learned without him everything was off.

Unknown to you, he felt the same way of your presence. During your time apart, he honestly thought he wouldn’t make it how his body seemed to crave more than your touch. To hear your footsteps coming down the hall. Feel you under the same roof even if you weren’t in the same room.

Your buzzing phone signals your best friend’s arrival outside making you both separate - and further miss having such an intimate moment with each other again.

“If you need anything please call. Don’t try to struggle through so I don’t worry.”

“I will.” Ari’s hands on your hip and lower back gently move you towards the door not giving you a chance to possibly change your mind. “And you try to have fun. I don’t even want you thinking about us until you get back. Okay?”

“Kay,” you sigh stealing one last look at your beautiful girls. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Just be sure to call when you’re on the way so we can kick everyone out and have everything cleaned up from the party.”

“Very funny.” His lips on your forehead smooth away your worry lines; instead replacing them with a flush of heat and a soft smile.

Instinctively, he wanted to lean down and meet your lips as well but he somehow restrains himself. Flashing his adorable tilted smile as a last assurance everything would be fine before you’re out the door walking down the steps to your friend’s Lexus. After a final wave, you’re both gone and he’s left with the quiet apartment and two sleeping babies.

Definitely not secretly worried himself as he sits on the couch with both bassinets in front of him. His girls and the tv in perfect view.

“Alright ladies, looks like it’s just us,” he quietly speaks to no one in particular. “So far so good right? Yea I think so too.”

As if sensing her father’s anxiety and mother’s absence, Brynn begins to wiggle and whimper as she typically did before having a full fussy meltdown. Luckily he’s able to get her before she could wake up Ali. Gently holding her close to his chest as he slowly rocks back and forth quietly shushing her.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here babygirl. Nothing to worry about we’re alright.” In a matter of seconds she’s back to sleep and Ari’s smiling to himself comfortably sitting back against the soft, decorative pillows.

What was he nervous for? He had everything completely under control and these next few hours would easily fly by.

Or so he thought.

~

A couple hours later and his little angels were wide awake loudly broadcasting their requests for new diapers through their tears.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Daddy only has two hands though, so he’s working as fast as he can,” he responds in a sing-song tone to Aliana using one hand to try and tickle her cries away while the other steadies her squirmy sister.

He never really realized how long this takes not having any help.

Now they sat, relatively calm, in their high chairs watching as Ari opened their containers of food to place on the small plates in front of them.

“Okay my loves, dinner is served.”

With a fist full of smushed peas and carrots, the nine-month olds each inspect their hands before deciding they’d rather not.

“What’s wrong? You guys love this.”

Brynn just smashes more veggies between her fingers while Ali fiddles with the side of her chair as if trying to let herself down.

“Cmon girls you gotta eat,” Ari states grabbing two plastic spoons in each hand. Expertly, he’s able to get something on each one before holding it up to the twin’s mouths. Ali whines moving her head away, and Brynn smacks the utensil from his hand finding it quite hilarious when it drops to the floor.

“Alright, if you don’t want that let’s try this then.”

With the clean spoon, he digs into the clear baby food container before holding the yellowish goop to Brynn’s lips letting her taste. Smacking her lips once, her face contorts in disgust as she holds her tongue out not wanting anymore of whatever that was.

Ali does the same with the addition of smearing the remaining food from her lips to her cheeks and nose.

“It’s chicken and rice guys, I know it can’t be that bad. Here, watch dada.”

Getting a healthy spoonful for himself, he quickly realizes that probably wasn’t the best idea once it settles into his tastebuds.

Whatever this was definitely did not taste like the chicken and rice he was used to. And why did it almost taste like medicine?

He’s quick to spit it back into the jar gagging and frantically searching for a napkin to wipe the remaining residue from his tongue. His two angels giggling the entire time enjoying the impromptu show from their father.

“Glad my pain could make you laugh,” he shakes his head sliding the terrible chicken and rice to the side so he’d remember to throw it away later - and any other food from that brand.

Sighing, he journeys back to the fridge wondering what could work for his extremely picky girls as his oceanic blues scan along the shelves.

“Well since those two were a no, maybe we’ll have better luck with this.”

He takes one small container of strawberry yogurt and scoops the pink substance on one mini placemat before taking another to do the same on the next.

Just as they did with the peas, the yogurt oozes between their fingers then is brought to their mouths where they seem to enjoy the cold treat.

They reach for more practically sticking their entire hands in their mouths trying to eat as much as they could. He even hears a “mm” come from Brynn while Ali gnaws on both hands with that adorable dimpled smile.

“You like it girls?,” Ari asks chuckling at his messy little ones who’d definitely need a bath when they were done. “Don’t worry we got plenty more.”

~

Returning to your apartment, you’re a bit nervous as to what you’d find on the other side of the door not hearing anything from Ari since you left.

Everything seems okay though, seeing the pristine kitchen and dishes drying on the pad next to the sink.

As you step further into the living room, the only noise is some colorful cartoon character running across the tv screen while Ari snoozes with his head on the couch’s armrest. He must really be exhausted how his mouth is parted letting his snores freely escape to the open air. There’s even a bit of drool glistening in the corner of his mouth.

And you’d still gladly give him another child if he asked.

Perching on the edge of the cushion, you turn to run your thumb over his thick brow while gently calling out his name until he’s shifting and mumbling. “Ari, I’m back.”

One eye squinted, he tiredly smiles as he stretches his limbs - and you try to hold yourself together watching his muscles flex under the black Nirvana graphic tee. You shyly turn away, busying yourself with one of the girl’s rattles once his tummy pokes out along with a bit of his happy trail.

“Back already?,” he asks with a yawn.

“Ari it’s almost eight,” you softly chuckle as he looks towards the window to find it completely dark outside. A short “hm” rumbling in his chest as he sits up.

“I was out longer than I thought then.”

“How was everything? Were they fussy when I left?”

“It was good,” he smiles instantly making your own form. “And no, they actually stayed asleep for a couple hours before they woke up. Then had diaper changes, ate, and played until they got tired. Before you ask, yes I took plenty of pictures.”

He chuckles at the way you giddily bounce as he hands his phone over. The screen already showing a photo of your babies with messy faces and hands as they ate their yogurt. How did they always manage to get it in their hair?

“How was your girl’s day?”

“Pretty good. We went to that new little area, Midtown. They have some cute shops and things so we stayed there, talked and ate.”

“And see? Everyone’s fine, no one in any emotional distress,” he adds nudging your side and making you roll your eyes.

“I know I know, the world didn’t end,” you giggle standing as you hand his phone back - trying to ignore those fuzzy feelings in your stomach for the second time today when his hand touches yours. “I’m uh gonna go peek in on them before getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, just uh let me know when your done so I can change and everything.”

It’s been months, and it’s still taking time for both of you to get used to the new arrangements of your “separation”. At least once a day Ari had to remind himself how it was your bedroom now. How he was basically the guest in your home.

You, on the other hand, would never get used to the cold bed though having had your own personal heater for years.

Secretly, you didn’t wash the pillowcase from his side for the longest not wanting to get rid of his smell. The last remnant of his former presence in your little apartment.

Nodding your head, your sandals dully flap against the carpet as you make your way to your girls. More than ready to attack those chubby cheeks with kisses and nibble on fingers/toes if you could. However stepping foot in the door, that excitement soon turns into dread.

“Um Ari,” you sweetly call over your shoulder, “come here please.”

In seconds, he’s by your side still yawning the residual sleep from his body.

“What’s-,” his words catch in his throat as the horrendous scent finally touches his nostrils. “What died?!”

In their crib, Brynn and Aliana sat quietly covered in green, pasty poop that seemed to have run from their diapers out onto their starry mattress cover.

More specifically, Brynn sat squeezing poop in her fists while Ali lied on her back staring at the ceiling as if saying, “why me?”

“Exactly how much yogurt did you give them?”

“…Two.”

“Two?!”

“A-and a half,” he adds nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“Ari!,” you whine with hands on your hips. “The girls don’t do well with lots of dairy or sugar. It’s why we have the ‘only one’ limit.”

“But they really liked it! You should’ve seen how cute they were doing that excited shake thing. Plus they wouldn’t eat anything else I tried to give them,” he explains hoping to make it to the twins first birthday.

Sighing, you kick off your shoes before leaning down to pick up Ali being careful to not get any feces on you. “Let’s get you cleaned up my love. Can you get B please?”

Hesitantly, Ari reaches over the wooden railing to get his daughter trying to control his gags as she joyfully reaches out wanting to be held closer. “Please tell me you didn’t try to eat it.”

~

“Sorry I messed up,” Ari whispers as the four of you lie in bed. The girls, now freshly cleaned and in new onesies, each on their stomachs gently breathing. “Now you’re never gonna want to leave again.”

“It’s okay Ari, it was an accident. Need I remind you of the trip to your mom’s?,” you both chuckle.

“I just don’t want you worrying every time you step out the door.”

“That’s gonna happen no matter what. I love you guys and don’t want anything to happen.”

That innocent admission had a bright gleam forming in Ari’s eyes and a warmth blooming over his body. He tried ducking his face deeper into the pillow, but that smile was hard to hide.

“Thank you for everything today. I feel like I don’t say it much, but I appreciate all you do for us.”

Luckily his blush was easier to conceal from how dim the room was. “Anything for my girls.”

[nor-4]

For the first time.

I wanna cry so bad tumblr didn't post the part two this just because my net is slow n now i have to restart over again. I'm so disappointed, this will probably the bad version of pt 2. :(

Pairings - Mike Schmidt ft Mean!Reader.

After learning about the whole animatronics thing it weirded you out but yet you are curious, after seeing how they act it made you think that maybe they are just a child.

You headed home from the pizzeria, you just knew that you had a strong bond with abby. Everything that came out of you when it comes to abby is just normal.

As you were about to go to sleep you decided to snoop around the old box of your belongings when you were a kid, you found a crayons and a empty drawing book.

You love to draw when you were a kid so your mom used to spoil you with them, you wanted to give this to abby. Never in your life have you ever really cared for a child.

A whole 12 hours had just passed and it's your shift again, you were walking to work until vanessa saw you and gave you a ride since she is about to go to that old pizzeria anyways.

"Hi vanessa, hi (y/n)." Abby greeted as she started running on where the animatronics are, "Mike.." Vanessa said as you turned at her hearing her tone gives you heart attack you just knew that she is mad. "So you knew about the animatronics?" Mike asked as both of them started talking about the animatronics as you continued sweeping the place.

Suddenly abby asked for help and started making a plan about doing a really big fort for her and her friends, "Maybe we can use the table as a fort.." Vanessa said as an idea for the fort.

They started working on it same goes the animatronics helping as you are still cleaning after the fort was finished abby started calling you so she can lay down beside you.

Vanessa excused herself to go get a cloth because it's about to rain and we need a "roof" mike followed her to the stock room as i sighed staring at the ceiling.

Being left out like this makes you heart ache, you always hated this kind of feeling especially when you were a child.

"okay everyone. Now pick your partner for the project." Your teacher joyfully said as you were at the corner of the room watching your classmate scattered around looking for their partner, disclosing their hate with each other if needed just so they won't be partners with you.

You bite your lower lip thinking someone will ask you if you wanted to be their partner, but sadly you were placed on the room where students are on an odd number.

"Hey (y/n) you don't have a partner. Do you want to have a group project with the others." your teacher asking you if you want to push yourself over people who doesn't even want to be close to you, "No ma'am I'll just work by myself." You politely said through the loneliness you are feeling.

You hang your head low playing with your fingers holding back your tears as you feel their eyes burning into you as if you did something unforgivable.

"Hey (y/n) are you okay?" Abby asked concernly as she sat up to look at you, "I'm fine abby don't worry about it." you reassured abby with a smile.

"How about we go for a dance?" Abby asked as she stood up same goes the animatronics as the bear type of robot started singing as abby is dancing while holding your hands.

Abby stood up to the stage as you told her to be careful as you were distracted by hearing vanessa and mike fighting over something that you don't want to know. It's your first time again hearing someone fight so seeing it makes you feel like you wanna cry.

You grew up with an alcoholic father and a workaholic mother, they often yell to each other, destroying things and almost killing each other.

Everything happened so fast you heard vanessa yelling something as you felt something hot hit your face almost hitting your eyes, you ran on where abby was as you saw her laying down on the ground.

"Abbyy.." you said as you lightly shake her hands as a cough escaped her mouth from the smoke, "What happened?" abby asked as she stood up as you scoop her for a hug reassuring her that everything is an accident.

You guys packed up your things because vanessa had said that mike and abby needs to go home and get abby some rest. You are on the car with abby as she hugged you from your tears on hearing them yell outside, she doesn't understand what is happening at the moment as she just comforted you based on how you feel.

You wiped your tears as you feel mike had entered the car, "She looks angry.. Why does everyone look at you that way?" Abby asked on sight after seeing vanessa angry, you wanted to dissappear on sight but mike insisted that you shouldn't be out walking this late.

Drive home is quiet since abby had already fallen asleep and you are still a bit awkward around mike, you carried abby to her room as soon us you guys got home cause abby was clinging into you.

You set her down to her bed she looked at you as if she wanted to ask something but just let it go, "Goodnight (y/n)." abby said as she closed her eyes from her tiredness. "Goodnight abby.." you whispered as she was already asleep.

You are about to left the house since your home is just near here might as well just walk it, until you were stopped by mike who is sitting outside looking at the sky as if something miracle is about to happen.

"i didn't hear anything from you earlier.. Everything all right?" mike asked as you sat down beside him and was taken a back by his question, you never thought you'd have this kind of conversation with him it feels so cozy, comforting and peaceful.

"I'm gonna be honest with you.. I feel left out earlier." You said as you were playing with your fingers again, "I know, i wanted to help you but i couldn't.. It's vanessa." mike sighed as he stopped in the middle of the conversation.

He started talking about his brother and everything they went through he feels like vanessa is stopping him from finding out everything, he describes his trauma to you as if he had met you for a very very long time.

"And you know.. I really liked you, i thought i was just going crazy until i started thinking about you the most random times.." Mike said as he looked at you as you look at the moon as it lights up your beauty, "I liked you too mike, you are a very nice man. I thought i was just bored and then i started feeling something as if I'm jealous." You stated as you looked back at him.

He wanted to cherish this moment with you, if he had a three wishes from a genie he would wish two times to comeback to this moment and the third wish is he wanted to live every years he had with you.

"Since you had confirmed that i have a chance with you. (Y/n) will you go out with me, i know i won't be a perfect man for you but i will do my best. I promise i will never disappoint you (y/n) just plea-" You cut off mikes speech mid way with a kiss as you hold both of his hands. "stop it you dummy, yes i will go out with you." You said as you smiled at him while he looked like he is about to cry.

"(Y/n) i really love you. I will earn your reciprocation of my love." Mike said as he kissed both of your knuckles as you giggled on how loser he is being, "I know you will mike.." You laughed as he admire you gosh he is about to melt.

"Can you please stay just this once?" Mike pleaded as he wanted to cuddled you up and make everything up to you since you confesses that you feel left out earlier, "Yes mike.." You stood up as you brushed your pants.

"And it won't be once mikey." You told him as you pressed his nose with your point finger as both of you giggled like a high school lovers.

Mike guided you to his room as he pulled out a shirt and pajamas for you since he doesn't want you to sleep on a work shirt, unexpectedly you stripped infront of him as he closed his eyes as if he doesn't have any permission to see you.

"Mike stop being a coward, we are together now." you remarked as you put on the pajamas as you helped him get his vest off so he can change his shirt, he was still shy so he changed pretty fast which made you giggled.

You lay down on the right side as mike was on the other side, he cuddled up to you it's not like those tensed up cuddle this one is the comfortable one. Both of you have been longing for this a very long time ago plus both of you are tired so the sleep is very cozy for mike. Pretty much he sleeped through the night without taking a sleeping pill.

[fili-urzudel]

yo I've never requested something from anyone before, so I hope I'm doing it right, but I would love a sam x reader with forehead touches and palm kisses (and if you wanna do the handhold thumb rub thing too that'd be cool) if you don't want to than that's totally fine.

2. Palm kisses

9. Forehead touches

And handholding but make it Special

You're doing fine with the request! Sam is so cute, he's definitely my favorite all-around LotR character (though it's very difficult to choose) and I just want to always put him in the best, brightest domestic little situations after everything he's been through.

also I totally was not inspired to write this because I'm home sick and also a baby

Warnings: Fever, sickness, not feeling hungry, Samwise Gamgee is Middle Earth's #1 Husband

Word Count: 0.4k

Care - Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Sam moved the pot off the burner, ladling a small bowl full of his mum's soup as quietly as he could. You were probably still sleeping. But it had been hours—you needed to eat, if you could get anything down. 

He crossed the creaking floorboards with as much grace as he could muster, setting the bowl on the sitting room table. You were laid out on the sofa, where you were more comfortable and he could keep an eye on you. He watched you for a moment before he woke you, frowning when your body was wracked with another shiver. He placed the back of his hand against your forehead, which woke you up.

"Fever?" You asked through half-lidded eyes and a dry mouth, as though your sweaty palms and aching body weren't answers enough for you.

"I am afraid you still have a fever, yes," your sweet hobbit answered sympathetically. "I'm not sure if it's gotten much better since this morning."

"I don't think so," you confirmed his hypothesis. Suddenly too warm, you removed your arms from beneath the blanket. Sam wasted no time in taking one of your hands in his own.

"You'll get better soon, dear, I promise," he said seriously, and whenever Sam promised something, you always believed it. He rubbed his thumb comfortingly over the back of your hand, and despite every nerve being rather uncomfortably aflame, it was quite soothing. He had that effect on you. "Are you hungry?"

You smiled weakly. That was yet another thing you loved about Samwise Gamgee—when in doubt, he always helped by cooking. "Not really," you admitted. 

"Can you try to eat something, at least," he requested sweetly, and you knew you couldn't say no. "It might make you feel better," he offered, resting his other hand on your cheek. "It'll make me feel better," he admitted, and you chuckled, leaning into his touch.

"Mm, for you, I suppose I could try," you mused, turning slightly to press a light kiss to his palm. You then gasped. "Oh no!"

"What?" His brow furrowed. 

"I'm going to get you sick! I just thought of that, you've been tending to me all day, and, oh, no, you're going to get sick now," you despaired.

"Don't worry about me, love," he reassured you. "That's what husbands do." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. "I'd get sick over and over again if it meant I could take care of you."

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt6

Heres Part 6, finallyyyyy.

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

Part 6

Monday came by quicker than I had hoped. When I woke up that morning I felt so sick. I had a throbbing headache and my stomach was killing me. I had been up for probably 30 minutes before I had rushed to the bathroom to vomit the acids in my stomach, since I hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon. 

Yeah, I was not going to school today. I also called work and explained the situation. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as much time as I needed.

I turned off my lights and put the mini trash can from my bathroom next to my bed. I flipped onto my side, facing the edge of my bed in case I had to lean over and puke again. I curled up and held my stomach, feeling the pain finally take over.

– 

I woke up from the sound of my door being opened harshly. I groaned and opened my eyes. My mom was standing in my doorway.

“Y/n, what are you still doing here? It’s Monday. You have school.”

I explained to her how I wasn’t feeling well. She walked out of the room and came back with some water and medicine for me to take.

“Rest up then, kiddo.” She kissed my forehead. “If you need anything, just call me.” She pushed my hair out of my face then turned to leave the room. I checked my phone to see what time it was.

It was 11:30. They had 3 new messages. 2 of them from Chris and 1 of them from my dad. I checked the one from my dad first.

When you coming visit? I miss yall. Don’t be a stranger, Y/n. Text me back when you can. I love you.

I sighed and closed out of the message, then clicked Chris’s contact. I looked at his message, soon responding after reading them. 

Why aren’t you in 3rd hour? Are you here today? Soon after his first message he had sent, Hello?? 

I typed back, Sorry, Chris. I’ve been sleeping all morning. I’m sick with what I think is the stomach flu. But I should be back by Wednesday or Thursday. 

I shut off my phone. I wasn’t tired anymore so I grabbed my TV remote and played some music. I sat up in my bed and grabbed my school bag from the floor. I opened it and grabbed my computer, checking my school work I had missed for the day. I had probably 4 assignments. Soon after starting my first assignment, my phone buzzed. I picked it up and checked the message. Chris had texted back rather quickly. 

Send me your address. I’ll bring you some food and medicine. I laid back on my pillow, smiling like a 14 year old with a crush. I practically kicked my feet at his message. To be honest, I knew I’d get to this point with Chris. Where I would fall for him. But I think a part of me had always liked Chris. Even just seeing him walk past me in the hallways would always make my heart hurt, I just never realized I actually liked him until he talked to me the first time. I sent him a message back.

No, don’t worry about it. I should be fine but thank you. He read it. I sat waiting for his message for a while before I figured he wasn’t texting back. I shut off my phone and started working on my school assignments once again.

It took me about 2 hours to do everything I had missed. By the time I finished, school would have been 10 minutes from the final bell ringing. Chris had never texted back. I was kind of bummed about it, but tried not to think about it too much. 

I got up out of my bed and immediately felt a wave of dizziness overcome me. I rushed to the bathroom, emptying my already empty stomach once again. I sat on the bathroom floor for a good 20 minutes, too scared to move. Throwing up was definitely my least favorite thing. 

My mom came knocking on the bathroom door once I hit the 25 minute mark. Not that anyone was counting, except for me. 

I flushed the toilet and pushed myself against the wall. “You can come in.”

“Are you sure? Someone’s here to see you.”

My eyes furrowed in confusion. The bathroom door opened after a few seconds of silence. I saw my mom, water bottle in hand. She walked in, sitting next to me. After she sat down she called out, “Don’t be shy, we don’t bite.” She giggled and pushed my shoulder softly. I just looked at her, then towards the door. 

“I brought you some food and things to help with your stomach.” Chris walked in. My eyes widened and I tried to quickly stand up. The second I felt dizzy, I collapsed back into the position I was in again. Mom ran her fingers through my hair. Then she started to rub big circles into my back. Chris put the toilet seat down and sat on it. He was now in front of me holding a bag of food and medicine. “I didn’t know what kind of food you ate but Alice said you liked strawberries and toaster strudels so I grabbed a few packs of everything.”

Yep, I was for sure going to kill Alice. He pulled out of the bag a packet of medicine and a sweet tea, as well as a pepsi. He left the food in the bag but placed it on the counter next to my sink. He read the back of the packet and took out 2 pills, handing them to me along with the sweet tea. 

“How did you get here? I didn’t tell you where I lived.” I grabbed the things from his hands. My face was flushed and I was hot. I probably looked like a mess. My face was pale and my cheeks were red. My hair was a mess and I was wearing fuzzy socks and some shorts with a hoodie. It was hot and I was sweaty.

“That was also Alice. She’s very helpful.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. My mom put her hand on my knee. I looked at her.

“Say thank you, Y/n. He came all this way for you.”

My head was throbbing. “Thank you,” I mumbled. 

“I’ll leave you alone.” Mom stood up and walked to the bathroom door. “Yell if you need anything.” She walked out, leaving only me and Chris in the small bathroom.

Chris held his hand to my forehead. “Yeah, you’re definitely sick. You’re burning up. Where do you keep your towels?” I pointed to the cabinets under the sink. He got up and rummaged through the cabinet before pulling out a small black towel and running it under the cold water from the sink. He rang it out then placed it on my head. I went to grab it but he pushed my hand away, holding his hand and the towel to my forehead. 

“Thank you, Chris.”

He smiled and sat next to me, replacing the spot mom was previously in. 

“You know, 3rd hour was soooo boring without you.” He dragged out the so, making it seem way too dramatic. I looked at him. He pushed the hair out of my face and tucked the strands behind my ears. “Can I put your hair up for you?” I nodded my head.

“Let’s go to my room first. I’ve been here way too long.” Chris got up first, grabbing my hand to help me get up. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would have been so nervous. 

He led me out the door and to my bed. He let go of my hand and grabbed my desk chair. He pulled it to the side of my bed next to me. I turned my back to him, handing him the hair tie on my wrist. I held the towel to my head.

He gathered all my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. He was very gentle. So gentle I almost didn’t feel it. “There, that’s better”

I felt my face heat up. I shifted and turned back to face him. He got up and went back to the bathroom, soon coming back with the bag of food in his hand. He placed it on my bed next to me. I rummaged through it, grabbing the pack of strawberries. They looked so good. 

“Here,” I handed him a strawberry. He took it and ate it. I also grabbed one and ate it. They were so sweet. 

“You have a nice room. It really describes who you are.” I looked at him puzzled.

“That is a good thing, right?”

He nodded his head at me. A few seconds passed but it felt like minutes.

“You know, you really didn’t have to come here for me. I’m grateful, but you could have been doing better things.” I looked at him. He was studying my room, looking around and messing with the trinkets on my side table. 

“I don’t mind. I wanted to see you anyway.” He looked at me, his head tilted. He had a grin on his face. My face was red once again. I kept eating the strawberries silently, offering some to Chris whenever he had finished his last. I grabbed the remote from my bed and turned off the music that had been playing for the past few hours. Now the room was completely silent. It was a comfortable silence. Something about Chris being here was making my heart calm down. My stomach started to feel better. 

He looked at me for a while before saying, “Alice is worried about you too. You should text her. Let her know you’re okay.” I smiled at him. 

“For being sick, you’re still really beautiful.” He pushed my hair back. I removed the towel from my head and put it on the empty spot next to me. I grabbed his hand from my hair. I dropped our hands into my lap and fiddled our fingers together. I played with his hand, but it didn't seem like he minded. I lifted our hands, placing one of mine against his. His were bigger than mine, only by a little bit. We both looked at our hands. I interlocked our fingers. I don’t know why I did that, but he didn’t pull away. We looked at each other. 

He’s so beautiful. So much prettier than me, that’s for sure.

I put our hands down on my bed. Our fingers were still wrapped around each other. 

“Why is it that everytime you come around, I get nervous?” I looked at him.

“I don’t know.” He responded slowly. “But, I think you make me nervous too. I get a tingly feeling around you.” His small confession caught my attention.

My eyes widened. “I get a tingly feeling too. Right.. Here.” I placed his hand on my heart. He held it there, feeling my heart beat. 

“Your heart’s racing.”

“I know.”

He looked at me and moved his hand away. He grabbed mine and placed it on his heart.

His heart is racing too. I felt my body go numb.

“Mine’s beating fast too, isn’t it.” He said that as more of a statement than anything. 

My breath hitched. I scanned over his face. His cheeks were a light pink. His hair was slicked back into a baseball hat, a little bit sticking out by his ears. He looked so good. I looked at his eyes then down to his lips. He noticed it and I moved my hand away.

I want to kiss him. God, I want to kiss him so fucking bad. 

I looked back to his eyes, his finding mine. I looked away from him. 

You’re sick, Y/n. No, that’s not important, he has a girlfriend. A beautiful and sweet girlfriend. Someone who doesn’t deserve anything less than Chris. Someone who is way better for him than you could ever imagine. 

Chris and Clairissa were perfect together. They’ve been dating since the beginning of our junior year. Everyone knew who they were and who they belonged to. It would be a sin to separate them. 

Chris spoke, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“I guess I should get going soon. I have a hockey game tonight. You should come.” I looked back at him.

“I know you aren’t feeling well, but if you end up feeling better, come watch it. It starts at 7 at the rink.” 

“I’ll think about it.” I smiled softly. He smiled back and patted my head. He stood up and pushed the chair back to its original spot. Chris walked to the door of my room, opening it. 

“If I don’t see you later, text me.” 

I looked down at my lap. “I will. Thank you again, Christopher.” He grinned.

“Anything for the pretty lady.” My head snapped up. There it was again. He called me pretty again. He turned and shut the door. Soon after, my door opened again and mom walked in. She practically skipped over to my bed, a big smile on her face. She pushed my shoulder softly again.

“He was cute,” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and giggled like a little girl. I smiled and sighed. 

“I know.”

[howi99]

A Qrow's nest prologue 2

All the adult are at the table

Taiyang: So let me get this straight, Ironwood asked for you to go undercover into the glass unicorn, and not even an hour later, you punched the owner in the face and kidnapped a kid.

Qrow: *crossing his arm* Yep, should i have not?

Taiyang: *shaking his head* I probably would have killed her myself. Being a dad and all... It changes you, you know? But what should we do now?

Raven: Tsk, don't expect me to take care of the kid. It's hard enough to look after mine. *Looking at summer* And yours, by the way.

Summer: *sheepishly* H-hey, i'm trying my best! But with all the negativity in anima and menagerie, i have more work than i can shew.

Raven: *sigh* I know. Gosh, if i had known beforehand how hard being a mom would be, i might have gone back to the tribe.

ST_Q: *deadpanning her*

Raven: *roll her eyes* I was joking, obviously. Gee, way to show your trust.

Qrow: *massaging his temple* Like you said Tai, i don't know what to do. I can't give her to an orphanage, she was sold to slavery by one. *Look at the ceiling* and i can't let you all take care of her, it wouldn't be fair.

Taiyang: *smirking* Way to make us feel bad uh?

Qrow: *shake his head* For once, not my intention... *Looking at the couch where Cinder currently sleep* i feel bad for the kid. I feel like i'm the only one who she will trust.

Summer: *agreeing* Yeah, with what she's been through, i wouldn't be surprised.

*Qrow's scroll violently vibrate*

Qrow: That must be headmaster dickhead. *Answering* Yello?

Ironwood: *calmly* You have 30 seconds to explain why punched the owner, kidnapped her dear daughter and why is the glass unicorn on fire.

Qrow: She was using a shock collar on the kid and was about to whip her, so i punched her. That respond to your two first question. For the fire, i would blame my semblance but considering when i left everything was fine, i think it's really just bad luck.

Ironwood: *sigh* I knew i should have sent someone else. We had a potential lead to Her Qrow.

Qrow: *irritated* What was i supposed to do Jame? Was i supposed to let it happen? Wasn't slavery abolished in your fucking kingdom? *Getting angrier* Would you have me whip children in the name of a mission!?

Ironwood: ... No. No, i wouldn't ask this from anyone, not even my most loyal soldiers... You don't need to worry about her, she doesn't know your real identity. I will... Try finding an arrangement with her. If anything, she seems more interested in getting more money for repair so it shouldn't be to hard.

Qrow: ... I wasn't expecting that of you Jame.

Ironwood: *roll his eyes* I'm still human Qrow, but you also have to understand you'll need to stay low profile for a bit.

Qrow: Yeah, with the kid, i don't think i'll have time for a mission. Gonna have to warn Ozpin about all this.

Ironwood: Please do. You got me enough paperwork already, i don't have the patience to deal with him. *Close communication*

Taiyang: *laughing* Still as courtois as ever! Not even an au revoir.

Qrow: *smirk* That would be too much from him... Welp, i need a good night of sleep.

Summer: *surprised* Sleep? Knowing you, i thought you would have already turned into a bird to fly to the nearest bars!

Qrow: *shruging* What can i say? I don't want to make the kid sad. And i don't drink every day.

[gg-neptune]

Three Pt.2

A/N: So this might suck like bad but I wanted to write a part 2 to my previous work. Uh this person @evans23 kinda inspired me to so thank you to this person. But anyways if this suck I apologize but for some reason I found it really hard to write like it was extremely difficult to make every word work, but I liked the challenge. Also I didn't proofread it. Um I maybe should have but like I didn't want to and so I didn't. Part 1 is at the end. I don't know how to do links yet so I tried my best. Hope you enjoy feedback is welcome <333333 :)

Also this is the song I imagined playing. Recently been obsessed with it and I dunno it's nice to play in the background. For some reason it calms me down real good so yeah I figured I'd link it.

“Hey… come on wake up,” a distant deep voice says to you. Groaning in frustration at being woken up you keep your eyes tightly closed, not bothering to look at the person trying to wake you right now.

A warmth overcomes you as arms wrap around you pulling you up against something. “Wake up,” the voice whispers in your ear, making you aware of the sharp pain behind your eyes, “You can’t sleep until noon, I refuse to let you.”

Your eyes open slightly enough to take in your surroundings, the room is still dark, the curtains are blocking out light still and you seem to be being held up by a person. Who you can only assume to be Severus. Turning your head to look at him your assumption is confirmed correct.

A small smile graces his face as you turn to look at him, happy to see your pretty face, “Morning,” his deep voice makes you want to curl up and go back to sleep even more than you do already.

All you do is groan in response, not being bothered to fully respond to him, pushing your head against the crook of his neck. He rubs his hands up and down your back. “You’ve been asleep for almost 14 hours. I figured you might want to get up now,” he gently says.

This shocks you, quickly you pull back from his embrace and look at him wide eyed.

“Don’t worry I got your work from your teachers you didn’t miss any classes and I called in. It's fine I took care of everything,” he assures before you can respond.

You relax quickly before another thought strikes you. You made a 3 on the test and you can’t afford to miss any class. With how dumb you are you probably need to go to extra classes if anything.

“No, no, no, I can't, I need to get up,” wrestling yourself from his arms and the covers trying to gain your footing. As soon as you stand upright however, a jolt of pain shoots through your head straight to your eyes, almost knocking you to the ground, overwhelming you with a feeling of lightheadedness.

Luckily he is there to catch you as you almost fall to the ground, gathering you up in his arms as he does so, “No I don’t think you're going anywhere actually. No offense but you look awful. Still beautiful but seriously you look awful.” You can tell he is genuinely concerned and not trying to be mean but this almost hurts you. So you're a failure and ugly?

Huffing in frustration and hurt you give up and try to relax as much as you can into his arms. “My head hurts.”

“I bet.”

“Well give me something for it.”

“Not on an empty stomach.” He hoists you up, holding you close to him as he walks into his kitchenette, settling you into a chair.

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” you say, slumping in the chair borderline falling out of it.

Severus ignores you and starts making some toast. As the bread begins to toast he puts on some music. The melody begins to ring through the kitchen, not particularly loud but just enough to be heard. 

The toast pops up and he spreads some of your favorite flavor jelly on it. Plating it before setting it on the table in front of you before he takes a seat beside you. Gingerly he wraps an arm around your shoulder before pulling you near him.

“Your food is done,” he says quietly into your hair.

Groaning you look up at him and squint, “I’m not hungry.”

“Quit being stubborn and eat something. The quicker you get something on your stomach the quicker I’ll give you something to make your headache go away,” Severus replies with a small smile, picking up the toast and nudging your mouth with it.

Begrudgingly you oblige and open your mouth chewing up the toast and swallowing, and before you can complain that you now have something on your stomach he shoves more food in your mouth, a larger bite than the last.

“Very good. Look at you. You're doing so good,” he praises. Squeezing you a bit closer to him. As you finish that bite he doesn’t make you eat the last bite however he does keep it in his hand very close to your face.

“I feel bad,” you groan, leaning in close to him. 

He puts the toast down then gently pulls you up into his lap. He rocks you back and forth as you curl up in his arms. Your head finds the crook of his neck as you bury your face into him.

“I know you're still upset about the grade. But you have no reason to be. You did what you could and that’s the point of the test. And I know you know that. Don’t be sad, pretty. Let me take care of you, alright?”

Tears well up in your eyes at his words but you slowly begin to relax in his arms. Tears overtake you as you limply lean up against him, “I just- I expect more of myself. And I didn’t-.”

Gently he shushes you while rocking you still. You stay like this for a while before the crying subsides and your breathing is back to normal. He stands bringing you along with him, abandoning your toast on the table. Bringing you back to the bedroom he sets you on the bed before digging through the bedside table grabbing a Pepperup Potion and giving it to you.

“Here you go it will make you feel better but you still need to get some sleep and probably some really warm body pillow like thing next to you. Like maybe it should be me shaped…” he says crawling up next to you in the bed. A small smile graces your face.

He wraps his arms around you as you uncork the potion and drink it. Almost immediately your headache goes away. But your mental state remains the same. You still feel upset and down that you hadn’t done how you wanted on the test. 

He takes the empty bottle from you and discards it before taking you fulliny in his arms and holding you close to him. His arms made you feel safer than anywhere else on the planet ever could. Holding you close to his chest he let out a sigh.

“You know you feeling so down and out makes me feel bad too,” he complains as he runs a hand down your back. “But I kind of like it because that means that I can spend more time with you and it makes me feel a bit guilty but then my guilt kinda leaves when your so close to me”

Some of the words do not register in your head fully as you drift in between being asleep and not but you smile lightly and almost laugh.

“I never thought my own boyfriend would admit to wanting me to feel bad,” you mumble out into his neck. Snuggling into him closer.

“Well it’s not my fault, we barely see each other as is,” he says lightly, a hint of sadness in his voice as he pulls you closer to him. 

A comfortable silence takes over you both as you lay in his embrace. It would take a while before you felt back to your normal self but Severus would surely speed up the process.