#i was a freaking puddle every hospital scene thank YOU

[goldfades]

baby time. | JOE BURROW⁹ [007]

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your son's birth!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of birth (who would have thought!?), not too descriptive, joe being the sweetest baby daddy EVERRR, maisie being the coolest aunt, mentions of water-breaking, descriptions of contractions, idk what else but... it's pretty soft!

APRIL 9TH, 2022

𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. The kind where the quiet hum of the fan filled the room and the soft rhythm of Joe’s breathing set a peaceful background to your restless tossing and turning. Pregnancy sleep was its own brand of chaos—you were hot, then cold, then uncomfortable, then starving. The baby wasn’t even here yet, and they already had your schedule on a tight leash.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor a small relief against your aching feet. The bedside clock glowed faintly: 3:27 a.m.

Joe stirred beside you, murmuring something incoherent before settling back into his usual sprawl. He looked so peaceful, one arm flung over his head, the other draped protectively over the empty side of the bed you’d just vacated.

You shuffled toward the bathroom, rubbing a hand over your belly as if to soothe the little one nestled there. "Let’s not make this a nightly thing, okay?" you muttered. The baby gave a single, emphatic kick in response.

Just as you reached for the bathroom door, it happened—a warm gush that stopped you in your tracks.

For a split second, you froze, your sleep-addled brain scrambling to make sense of what just happened. Did I…? No, it couldn’t be. But the dampness spreading down your legs told a very different story.

“Oh, no,” you whispered, wide-eyed.

Your water had broken.

The realization hit like a bolt of lightning, and panic surged through your veins. You weren’t ready. The baby wasn’t ready. Nothing was ready.

“Joe,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood there, utterly frozen. Then louder, more urgent: “Joe!”

He shot up immediately, eyes wild with the disorientation of someone ripped from deep sleep. “What? What’s wrong?” His voice was thick, his hair sticking up in every direction.

“My water,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely to the puddle on the floor. “It broke. It’s happening. The baby’s coming. Right now.”

Joe blinked at you, his brain clearly lagging behind your words. Then his eyes darted down, taking in the scene.

“Oh, shit,” he said, throwing the covers off and leaping out of bed. “Okay, okay. Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” you said, though your trembling hands and rapid-fire breathing told a very different story. “I’m just… processing.”

“Processing is good,” Joe said, nodding like a man trying very hard not to freak out himself. “Processing is great. Let’s… uh, let’s get to the hospital.”

He darted to the closet, yanking out a duffle bag you’d packed weeks ago. Thank God for Maisie, who had insisted on the just-in-case preparations.

“Where are your shoes?” he asked, rummaging through the closet like it was a black hole.

“I don’t know!” you wailed, clutching the dresser for support as another wave of panic rolled through you. “Joe, I can’t do this. It’s too early. What if something’s wrong? What if—”

“Hey, hey,” he said, dropping the bag and crossing the room in two long strides. He cupped your face in his hands, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “You can do this. We can do this. Everything’s going to be fine.”

His voice was calm, steady, and just grounding enough to slow the whirlwind in your head. You nodded, taking a shaky breath.

“Good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Now, let’s get you out of these wet clothes, okay?”

A flurry of activity followed—Joe helping you into fresh leggings and one of his sweatshirts, both of you scrambling to gather last-minute items. The whole time, you couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. Was this really happening? Right now?

By the time you made it to the car, Joe had shifted into full quarterback mode, his focus laser-sharp as he buckled you in and started the engine.

“You good?” he asked, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the driveway.

You nodded, clutching your belly as the first faint contraction rippled through you. “I think so.”

The drive to the hospital felt both endless and impossibly fast. Joe kept glancing at you, his hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You okay?” he asked every few minutes.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice wavered as the contractions grew stronger. “Just keep driving.”

When you finally pulled up to the hospital, everything blurred into a chaotic rush—nurses, wheelchairs, bright lights, and a flurry of paperwork that Joe handled while you focused on breathing through the increasingly intense waves of pain.

“This is it,” he said softly as the nurse wheeled you toward a delivery room, his hand warm and steady on your shoulder. “We’re going to meet our baby.”

And just like that, the panic ebbed, replaced by a strange, calm anticipation. Because no matter how unprepared you felt, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t doing this alone. Joe was there, and you were a team.

The hospital room was a blur of sterile white and cold tile floors, softened only slightly by the hum of machines monitoring your every breath and beat. You hadn’t even been in the room for an hour, but it already felt like days. The contractions were still mild, coming in waves that tightened your belly and sent a ripple of discomfort through your lower back.

Joe stood by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, his face tight with concentration. The fluorescent light overhead cast sharp angles on his features, making the exhaustion in his eyes more pronounced. He ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time, a nervous tic that betrayed the calm front he was trying to keep up.

“Yeah, Mom,” he said, his voice low but insistent. “Her water broke a couple hours ago. We’re at the hospital now.”

You could hear Robin’s voice on the other end, shrill with concern even though she was hours away in Athens. Joe flinched slightly, pulling the phone an inch from his ear as he glanced back at you.

“She’s okay,” he assured her, though his eyes flicked nervously toward the monitors beeping steadily by your bedside. “It’s early, but the doctors aren’t worried. They said everything looks good so far.”

You shifted on the bed, trying to find a position that didn’t make your hips feel like they were being pried apart. Easier said than done. Joe noticed immediately, his brow furrowing as he mouthed, You good?

You nodded, even though you weren’t entirely sure it was true.

“Mom, I gotta go,” he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I’ll keep you updated, okay? Love you. Bye.”

He hung up and exhaled sharply, dragging a chair closer to your bedside and sinking into it. His hand found yours automatically, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a steady rhythm.

“My parents are driving up right now,” he said, managing a small, wry smile. “Mom’s freaking out, of course. Told me to tell you she loves you and to hang in there.”

You smiled faintly, though your heart clenched a little at the thought of your parents, who were currently halfway across the country on a long-awaited vacation. Timing really was everything.

“They’re gonna feel so guilty about missing this,” you murmured, wincing as another contraction started to build.

Joe squeezed your hand. “They’ll be here soon enough. And Maisie’s on her way—she’ll probably get here before I even figure out how to fold that damn swaddle blanket.”

That managed to pull a weak laugh out of you, even as the contraction peaked, forcing you to close your eyes and breathe through the sharp wave of pain. Joe immediately sat up straighter, his free hand hovering uncertainly over your leg like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said through gritted teeth. “That one was just… a little stronger.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Should I call the nurse?”

You shook your head, exhaling shakily as the contraction ebbed. “Not yet. They said this could take a while.”

Joe’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but the sound of the door opening cut him off. A nurse bustled in, her smile professional and calm as she checked your vitals and updated the monitor.

“Everything’s looking good,” she said brightly, glancing between you and Joe. “First babies can take their time, though, so try to relax as much as you can. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you again.”

Relax. Right.

The door had barely swung shut behind her when Joe’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. He snatched it up, glancing at the screen. “Maisie’s downstairs. I’ll go grab her, okay?”

You nodded, watching him go with a mix of relief and unease. As much as you appreciated his constant presence, the nervous energy radiating off him was almost suffocating. Maybe Maisie would help diffuse some of the tension.

Maisie arrived like a whirlwind, her hair pulled into a messy bun and a to-go coffee cup in one hand.

“Oh my God,” she said, rushing to your side. “You look… okay, actually. Better than I thought you’d look after your water broke in the middle of the night.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward despite the ache in your back.

Joe reappeared behind her, carrying a paper bag you could only assume was filled with the snacks Maisie insisted on bringing every time you so much as sneezed.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, plopping into the chair Joe had vacated and immediately taking over the hand-holding duties. “Is it bad yet?”

“It’s… manageable,” you said, though another contraction building in the distance made you wonder how long that would last.

Joe stood by the window again, arms crossed as he stared out at the dark parking lot below. Maisie glanced at him, then back at you, lowering her voice.

“How’s he doing?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

You sighed. “He’s trying. But you know Joe—he doesn’t like not being in control. And this… well, this is definitely not something he can control.”

Maisie nodded knowingly, squeezing your hand. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. To distract him and annoy him until he forgets how stressed he is.”

You laughed softly, but the sound was cut off by the sharp onset of another contraction. Maisie’s grip on your hand tightened, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination.

“Breathe through it,” she coached, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve got this.”

Joe turned from the window, his eyes darting to you as if he could feel the shift in the room.

“Another one?” he asked, stepping closer.

You nodded, focusing on the slow, measured breaths Maisie was guiding you through. When it finally passed, you leaned back against the pillows, utterly drained.

Joe brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch gentle. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You managed a tired smile. “I’m just trying to survive the night.”

Joe glanced at Maisie, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. For once, they seemed to be on the same team, united in their shared mission to get you through this.

And as the clock ticked past four in the morning, you realized just how long this night was going to be.

┈┈┈

Time in the labor room felt elastic, stretching and warping with every contraction that rolled over you like a storm. By now, the initial nerves had morphed into something heavier, grittier, as the reality of what lay ahead began to sink in. The monitor beside you beeped steadily, a metronome marking time in an endless loop as the contractions grew stronger and closer together.

Joe hadn’t sat down in what felt like hours. He hovered near your bedside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking like he was ready to throw a block or tackle someone if it would make this easier for you. His hand was a near-permanent fixture in yours, and though he winced every time you squeezed too hard, he never once pulled away.

The nurse entered again, her calm professionalism a steadying presence in the chaos. “How are we doing?” she asked, pulling on gloves as she approached.

“How does it look like we’re doing?” you managed, the bite in your voice softened by the sheer exhaustion that clung to every word.

Joe rubbed soothing circles into your back with his free hand. “She’s hanging in there,” he answered for you, though his voice was tight with worry.

The nurse smiled, unbothered. “Let’s see where we’re at.” She glanced at the monitor, then moved to check your progress. “You’re about six centimeters now. Things are definitely moving along, but we’ve still got a little ways to go.”

Six centimeters. You wanted to cry, both because of how far you’d come and how much farther you still had to go.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Joe asked, his tone almost desperate.

The nurse tilted her head thoughtfully. “Walking can help speed things up, if she’s up for it. Otherwise, we’ll just keep monitoring and let nature take its course.”

Walking sounded like the most impossible thing in the world, but the thought of lying in this bed for several more hours wasn’t much better. You nodded weakly.

Joe sprang into action, gently untangling your hand from his to help you sit up. The shift in position sent a sharp wave of discomfort through your lower back, and you sucked in a breath.

“Easy,” he murmured, his hands firm but careful as he steadied you. “Take your time.”

Maisie appeared at the foot of the bed, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “You’re a warrior, babe. Let’s do this.”

With their help, you managed to swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, though your knees wobbled like a newborn fawn’s. Joe wrapped an arm securely around your waist, holding most of your weight as you shuffled toward the door.

The hallway was quiet, dimly lit in the eerie way only hospitals managed, and you could feel the curious stares of passing nurses and doctors. Every few steps, a contraction would stop you in your tracks, forcing you to cling to Joe as you breathed through the pain.

“You’re doing so good,” he said softly, his lips brushing your temple.

You didn’t have the energy to respond, but you leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence.

By the time you made it back to the room, the contractions were coming hard and fast, leaving little room to breathe between them. You collapsed onto the bed with a groan, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as the nurse reappeared to check on you again.

“You’re at eight centimeters,” she announced, giving you an encouraging smile. “We’re getting closer.”

“Closer,” you echoed faintly, as though the word had lost all meaning.

Joe crouched beside you, his hand brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. “You’re almost there, babe. Just a little longer.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, though there was no heat behind the words.

Maisie snorted from her seat in the corner. “He’d probably pass out if he had to do half of what you’re doing.”

“Not helping, Maisie,” Joe said, though his lips twitched upward for the briefest moment.

The tension in the room ebbed slightly, replaced by a flicker of warmth. But it didn’t last long. Another contraction ripped through you, stealing the air from your lungs and making you cry out. Joe immediately shifted closer, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice steady even as his eyes filled with helplessness. “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

You tried to focus on his voice, on the grounding sensation of his hand in yours, but the pain was relentless, all-consuming. By the time the contraction finally subsided, you were trembling, tears streaming silently down your cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joe’s grip on your hand tightened. “Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve got this.”

Maisie appeared at your other side, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “He’s right. You’ve already done the impossible—this is just the final push, literally.”

You managed a weak laugh through your tears, though it quickly dissolved into a sob as another contraction loomed on the horizon.

Joe leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’re gonna meet our baby soon,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Just hold on a little longer.”

And so you did. With every ounce of strength you had left, you held on, clinging to Joe’s steady presence as the hours stretched on. Time lost all meaning, the only markers the intensifying contractions and the quiet reassurances of the nurses who moved in and out of the room like clockwork.

By the time the nurse announced you were fully dilated and ready to push, exhaustion weighed heavy on you, but there was a spark of determination in your chest.

Joe’s hand never left yours, his voice never wavered. And as you braced yourself for the final stretch, you knew that no matter how long or painful this night turned out to be, you weren’t facing it alone.

And finally, the time had come.

The world seemed to narrow to a single, blinding focus as you pushed, every ounce of energy you had left poured into this final effort. The voices of the medical team swirled around you—encouraging, instructing—but all you could truly hear was Joe.

His voice was steady, firm but soft, like a lighthouse in a storm. “You’ve got this, baby. You’re so close. I’m right here.” His hand gripped yours with unwavering strength, grounding you when you felt like you were splintering apart.

Another push. The room tilted slightly, your vision swimming as exhaustion tugged at your every muscle. But then—then—there was a shift in the air, a crescendo of activity from the doctors, and suddenly, the sound you’d been waiting for burst into the room.

A cry.

A wail so raw and new that it seemed to rip through every other sound, anchoring you firmly back to reality.

Joe’s breath hitched beside you, a sharp inhale as he straightened up, his eyes wide and unblinking. “He’s here,” he whispered, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “He’s here.”

Maisie, who had been pacing like a caged animal near the back of the room, let out a sob so loud and unrestrained it made one of the nurses jump. “Oh my god, oh my god! It’s a boy! He’s really here!”

Her tears came in rivers, and she pressed a tissue to her face, smearing mascara into a black mess. “I’m never going to be normal again!” she wailed, though her voice cracked with joy.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt the weight of your baby being placed on your chest. The tiny, warm bundle shifted against you, his cries tapering off as he rooted instinctively. His skin was pink and wrinkled, his hair a dark tuft of softness.

You could barely see through the tears streaming down your face, but none of that mattered. “Hi,” you choked out, your voice cracking. “Hi, baby. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Joe leaned over you, his face inches from the baby’s, his own tears spilling freely now. His hand trembled as he brushed a finger against the baby’s tiny fist, which curled immediately around it. “Hey, buddy,” Joe said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

It was 7:09 a.m., and the sun was rising outside the hospital window, casting the room in a golden glow. Time seemed to stop for a moment, the three of you cocooned in a bubble of love and relief.

Maisie sniffled dramatically from her corner. “He’s going to be the quarterback of my heart forever.” She clutched at her chest like she was physically overwhelmed. “I’m gonna buy him so many tiny football jerseys, you don’t even understand.”

Joe let out a wet laugh, shaking his head as he kissed the top of your hair. “Maisie, give it an hour before you start planning his draft.”

“Nope. I’m in it for life,” she shot back, though her voice wavered with emotion.

The baby stirred against you, his little nose scrunching up as he adjusted to the strange, new world. Joe pressed another kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly, his eyes shining as they met yours.

“You’re amazing,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t believe you did that. He’s here, and he’s ours.”

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I can’t believe it either. Look at him, Joe. He’s perfect.”

Joe nodded, his jaw tightening as another wave of emotion hit him. “Yeah. He really is.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, the chaos of the world outside fading into nothingness. It didn’t matter that you were exhausted, or that your body ached in ways you hadn’t known it could.

What mattered was the tiny life cradled against you, the miracle you and Joe had created together.

Your son.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[whatimdoing-here]

VIGIL | 2.06

Catch them.

[anythingandeverything1d]

Accidents happen

“Babe?” Harry’s voice called from the front door. He sounded exhausted, and his dragging feet and tired eyes confirmed your suspicions when he entered the kitchen. He smiled when he saw you though, walking in your direction and looking at you head to toe. “You look cute.”

You grinned and nodded at him. You had chosen a new pair of leggings that hugged your body in all of the right places. You also were causally lounging in the bralette that matched. “How was the studio today? And you had an interview right?” you asked while walking around the counter, hugging him tightly as he walked into your open arms. He just shrugged and held you tightly. You smiled, pressed a kiss to lips and separated your bodies. Harry had been updating you with texts throughout the day so you had known it wasn’t the best day of work he’s had, which is why you had planned something special. Harry was eyeing the counter with a slight confusion and you spoke up,“I figured you may need to destress a bit after today so I thought for dinner I would make a taco bar since I know that it’s your favorite and then after we could snuggle in bed and watch a movie?”

Harry smiled and nodded, his lips pressing to your temple. “That sounds lovely.”

“Good. Why don’t you go shower and I’ll finish up here.” Harry nodded, heading upstairs to clean up and you got to work. You figured you would make chicken for the tacos, along with all the fix ins, and your special rice. You had the rice cooking on the stove, lettuce and tomatoes were cut and diced, freshly shredded cheese was sitting in a bowl along with sour cream, your homemade pico de gallo, and guacamole. You had hard shell tacos sitting on a plate, along with corn tortillas, and flour tortillas, making sure he had every option for what he wanted tonight. The last step was cutting the chicken into small cubes. 

You had the knife sitting on the edge of the counter and turned to grab a bowl to place the cubed chicken in, the only problem was that your elbow knocked the knife and it fell towards the ground. Everything seemed to slow. You felt your elbow hit the knife, you turned to watch it drop but didn’t move quite fast enough. The blade fell onto your bare foot, slicing through a piece of skin and allowing blood to spurt out. You just stood there for a minute, processing what was happening, shocked that it had actually landed AND cut your foot. You blinked, watching the blood pool under your foot before springing to action. “Fuck...fuck....fuck...” You grabbed the dish towel hanging on the stove and dropped to the ground, applying as much pressure as you could to stop the bleeding. “HARRY!” you screamed, trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You were feeling a little dizzy at the sight of the blood. It was turning the towel a deep red color, your foot still slick in the stickiness of the blood on the floor. “HARRY!” you cried again. “HARRY HELP!” 

Tears were falling down your cheeks when you finally heard his footsteps rushing down the stairs. He came sprinting around the corner, shirtless and in a pair of jogging shorts that hung low on his waist. His body was still wet from the shower and his hair leaving water droplets on the floor and his wet towel in his hand. “Where are you? What’s wro-” Harry’s voice trailed off. He took the scene in, his mouth opening. He looked at the blood pooled around you, tears falling down your cheek, a streak of blood across your cheek from where you had moved your hair back. For a moment time froze. He didn't know what to do or where you were even bleeding from until he noticed the towel on your foot. He snapped into action, he dropped to the floor next to you, trying to calm you in any way possible. He removed the towel you had pressed to your foot and tried inspecting the cut a little more. Blood was still dripping down your foot though, making the mark incredibly difficult to see and focus on. He tossed the blood covered towel to the floor and tightened his wet towel around your foot, wrapping it a few times the best he could. “You’re okay love, it’s okay. Just focus on me okay?” 

Harry was talking fast, way faster than usual which was freaking you out even more. You were still hyperventilating, unable to speak or breathe correctly. Harry’s hands gently guided your chin up, forcing your eyes to focus on him rather than the blood soaking through the towel. “I-I” you stuttered, crying even harder now that Harry was here.

“Shh...it’s okay (y/n) just breathe.” Harry pressed a quick kiss to your nose before jumping up and grabbing his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance...” he dialed 911 and nodded as they answered. “Yeah, this is Harry Styles, my girlfriend (y/n) had an accident in the kitchen. The knife seems to have fallen and cut her foot. Yeah, there’s quite a bit of uhm blood. She is still conscious but she’s been hyperventilating for a few minutes. Yeah, we have the foot wrapped in a towel but it’s not doing too much...okay yes that’s great thank you. Yeah, the door is unlocked and we are in the kitchen which is down the hall to the left. I’ll be waiting. Thank you”  Harry hung up the phone and focused his attention back on you. He tugged your body against his chest and whispered calming words into your ears, trying to settle your breathing a bit. “Just breathe love....in.....and out....in......and out.” 

You could feel your heart beat pounding in your phone which freaked you out even more. Eventually the ambulance arrived and Harry jumped up showing them where you were. The EMT’s unwrapped the foot and and applied a temporary bandage while another took your information and brought the gourney over. “Alright (y/n)...we are just going to lift you up and make sure you get into the ambulance. The pressure of walking could cause you to lose more blood and we want to make sure that doesn't happen. So what we are going to do is lift you on the count of three and carry you onto this gourney here okay?”

You shook your head and looked to Harry who nodded. “It’s okay love...they are going to help...”

“No...” you whined, reaching away from the EMT who was trying to lift you off the floor. 

Harry nodded to him and knelt next to you. “(y/n) we need to get you to the hospital and this man is going to help okay? Just try to breathe its okay...” Harry lifted you carefully into his arms and walked you over to the gourney. He set you gently down and kissed your forehead while holding onto your hand as they wheeled you out. You watched the puddle of blood disappear as they moved you out of the house and into the ambulance. Harry followed suit, sitting next to you and trying to take your mind off of the throbbing in your foot. The EMT placed and oxygen mask on your face and took vitals while the sirens roared and you were transported to the hospital.

You arrived at the hospital tired, in pain, and still crying. Harry never left your side though, which gave you a sense of comfort. The EMT’s left you on a hospital bed for a nurse to attend to, of course that had yet to happen. Harry was calmly rubbing circles into your hand and trying to distract you but your foot ached. “H....” you whined looking up into his green eyes. “It hurts...where’s the nurse?”

“I don’t know....I’m sorry love.” He pressed a kiss to your lips and sighed rubbing his temple. 

You felt bad, you were trying to give him a stress free evening and had done just the opposite. “I’m sorry.” you cried. “I always ruin things.”

“Babe...”

“I was just trying to give you a nice dinner and instead I further exhaust you by dragging you to the ER.”

“(y/n) stop....you didn’t ruin anything. It’s not your fault okay? Things like this happen....”

You were about to respond but luckily a nurse interrupted to give you some pain medications and let you know the doctor would be in shortly. He walked in, a smile on his face. “So, who wasn't wearing shoes in the kitchen?” You raised your hand and he laughed, removing the bandage to look at your foot. “Gotcha good did it? No worries, some stitches and you will be good to go. We are going to wheel you back right now and get you on your way. First thing though, I’m just going to numb your foot that way there’s less trauma to your body okay?”

You nodded and looked at Harry who was pale in the face watching him stick a needle into your foot. “Can you come?” you asked him, your lip between your teeth. 

Harry looked to the doctor for permission who shook his head. “Unfortunately we aren’t able to have anyone come back who isn’t a guardian. It shouldn’t take too long though.”

Harry sighed and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Love you.” he whispered with a grin.

“Love you too..” you held tightly onto his hand but as you were wheeled away, your grip was removed, leaving you to fend for yourself. The process of getting stitches was quick. You didn’t really feel a whole lot but a nurse kept your head from looking down just in case.

 After a few more minutes the doctor looked up with a smile. “6 stitches later and you are all set to go home. For tonight, stay off the foot and try not to get it wet for a few days. We will see you back in a few weeks to check and remove the stitches but other than that you are all set okay?”

“Okay...thanks.” you mumbled with a smile. A nurse pushed you back to the room Harry was in and he jumped up at the sight of you. “6 stitches.”

“6 stitches?” he repeated. “Damn.”

“Keep her off her foot as much as possible for the next day or so and try to avoid getting the stitches wet for at least 48 hours.” The nurse directed it at Harry with a grin who nodded and kissed your forehead. She then got you a wheel chair and Harry wheeled you out to the uber that was waiting. 

Once back home, you hobbled inside, wincing as the pain throbbed through your foot. “You okay” Harry asked immediately at your side.

“It’s just sore...” you mumbled. Harry grinned and picked you up, carrying you bridal style to bed. “Wow...if only we were married and about to head to bed for something other than sleep.” you grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I don’t know....sleep sounds great to me.” Harry laughed, carefully making sure you were settled before climbing into bed after you. You wrapped your arms around his chest and smiled. “Well that was an eventful evening”

“I’m sorry I-”

“Do not say ruined the evening.”

“But Haz...I did. I mean we didn’t even get to eat. And now there’s a huge mess downstairs that will need cleaned....”

“(y/n) all that matters is you are okay. We can have tacos another night. We will clean the kitchen in the morning....I’m just grateful that you are here...you are okay....and the doctors got those stitches in without any problems..” He kissed you softly and grinned. “Nothing else matters. Plus...now I get all the cuddles. That’s really all I’ve been looking forward too all day. They are even more special now though because I’m able to remember the truly important things in life. Like you.”

“But-”

“(y/n)....accidents happen and we deal with them. As long as you relatively unscathed that’s all that I care about. Deal?”

“Deal.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and smiled. Your foot may be in pain, and you may have screwed up dinner, but Harry always has a way of fixing those things and reminding you that what really matters is that when the time comes you support each other. Nothing else is more important than that.

---

A request I received. Enjoy! Has anyone ever had this happen? I feel like its a freak accident thing that is more rare.

xoxo

[kim-lexie]

extra-ordinary you.

extra-ordinary you, also known as haru found by chance, is seriously a drama in a league all its own. it follows eun danoh, as our lead; however, she comes to find that she isn’t the lead in the story that she is living in but rather an extra character in the comic ‘secret’. it follows her desiring her own story and the ability to make her own fate which leads her to haru, the boy that can change her day. it has romance, easy-going-light-hearted scenes, as well as heartfelt moments that alter the course of our characters. there were lots and lots of tears, and dynamic character development. 

also i must say do not be deterred by the fact that it takes place in a high school, this is no high school drama (thank you lee jae-wook, my original reason for watching this drama). rather it acknowledges the cringe and nonsense that happens in the typical teenage-high-school drama plot. i would 100 out of 10 recommend. 

*now on to potential spoilers so beware*

the premise. the idea itself is something i have never watched or read before, i seriously loved it. it is nice watching a drama and being able to fall in love with the main storyline as something I’ve seen many times before and then seeing the slight deviations. however, with this drama i never knew what was going to happen. the life in the comic for sure, knowing that nonsense was going to happen such as namjoo’s mother going to be crazy and try to wreck jooda. obvious. but our extra’s storyline was never written, and i liked that aspect staying true to the unknown of an extra’s character. 

our characters. in general i loved how all the characters evolved even the ones that were not self aware of the universe they were in. eun danoh our girl, with the terminal heart condition. she was precious, and incredibly heartwarming character. looking at all her scenes and even behind the scenes cuts she literally embodies her character. the little nuances and slight hand gestures and facial expressions fit her to a T (thank you kim hyeyoon for bringing eun danoh to life). as she becomes self aware her self determination and drive to change her fate increases,  and i enjoyed seeing her create her own tomorrow. as different obstacles presented themselves she had her cry and picked herself back up which i love to see in a female lead. sometimes it’s so easy to just be like where is her boo to come help her out, she determined her own future and relied on herself and her friends to get her through. the freaking writer for some reason wanted to kill off this cute extra and i just don’t understand what it would have done for the storyline, so eun danoh had to fight for her life for the majority of the drama which was sad. and heartbreaking because you can see how badly she wants to live even if it is a broken record playing the stage for someone else. 

baek-hyeong my boo. his character seriously embodied second male lead syndrome throughout the majority of the drama, except for those few episodes where he was completely and utterly lost. i.e. when he was figuring out his feelings and when he deceived eun danoh at the end. but literally he loved her on the stage and off. he was angsty and the typically member of a trio of boys who rule the school. it was his assigned role and he played it well. i seriously loved the moment that eun danoh came to forgive baekhyeong because it is truly what he needed to hear to be able to be at peace with all that had happened. 

“although, i am merely a character made by the writer. however, before everything I’m eun danoh and you’re baek-hyeong. therefore, the eun danoh from “secret” is thankful for you. as for the eun danoh from “chinese trumpet vine”, she forgives you. that’s because it was the writers created baek hyeong to be. thank you. i really hope that you can be more of yourself. just like how i was able to find the true me”

literally weeped the whole freaking scene. they had grown up together in his world, when his character in their past killed her. the writer was so twisted. they just wanted to find themselves and grow into the people they truly wanted to become.

haru (freaking rowoon) seriously swoon. dreamy haru caught our danoh’s attention and together they developed first a friendship then something more. and turns out their fates met long before ‘secret’ but rather in ‘chinese trumpet vine’. 

loved all of their scenes and lines *insert instant gems*

“eun dan oh is my only beginning. so I’m okay if my role ends with her. “

“dan oh…every moment of mine is you”

“since my beginning and ending was you”

“call my name.”

haru is the definition of a precious bean at the start and i love how he gains himself and becomes more vocal with his opinions later on, but still has his moments of cuteness, like when he made them matching necklaces ). his previous life in ‘chinese trumpet vine’ then and now in ‘secret’ guided his every moment. she was literally the center of his world, and i loved his desire to help her and be able to be there for her. some notable moments that led to me weeping were: when he gave her the beautiful night sky in the art room, when he left her the journal after he disappeared of drawings of their moments together. there were too many but those are my two favorites. when eun danoh was in the hospital and they were unable to meet at their tree together was awful and heart-wrenching. their relationship was precious and i loved how it developed and grew. i also appreciated the friendship between dohwa, haru, and danoh because they were the three musketeers and they were adorable. 

the side stories were well done. sometimes i feel like we neglect our extras but i appreciated how we saw the majority of them through. dohwa and jooda, our poor second male lead who almost became first male lead off stage which i would have 11 out of 10 been behind, and still don’t quite understand her reasoning because namjoo would have been just fine okay. i also appreciated soochul and saemi’s (eun danoh’s friends) storyline and how it continued on into the next comic. 

an odd part of this drama was that the main antagonist was an aloof omnipotent writer, who drew out each storyline and was never actually physically present. it was interesting concept to try and wrap my head around. so many insane moments and tragedy that occurred was with the writer just going about the daily and wrecking it for our characters. the writer was seriously twisted, having danoh meant to be paired with baek-hyeong who ended her in the last comic. making haru, baek-hyeong’s side kick once again after their tragedy in the last. seriously twisted. it was interesting how when they were able to change certain aspects everything still fell in line but with other characters in place. i cannot even imagine how our characters felt because it was seriously ridiculous at times, and disappointing to be back at square one so many times. no matter how much time dedication and energy they kept having to go back to try and rewrite the story. 

the ending was unsatisfactory, it had me in a puddle of tears, when everyone started disappearing from the scenes. however i don’t know how it could have ended any other way. we all knew the comic had to end, just as dramas end. it could have ended mid sentence which could have happened knowing how cruel this writer was (serious bone to pick with this one, seriously twisted and they need therapy). but the start of a new drama with them both as extras gives them more freedom than their designated stories gave them previously. however, where was baek-hyeong in the ending or dohwa? that was so sad not seeing them in this world. it is fortunate thought that danoh and haru are self aware because that would have been another mountain to overcome and go through the process all over again. but now i have the opportunity to just hope they can live happily as extras in their later dramas. 

i would love to say, ‘yes please have a spin off in this drama to follow them as free extras, and their adventures’. but no way would i sign up for this torturous world again. my heart would not be able to take it. i was setting myself up for a scarlet heart ryeo ending with how the majority of this drama went with nothing going my way.

side note the music was so great. i loved so many of the ost songs, and just recently have i been able to listen to a few because there were too many sad emotions held with them. my top tracks: 

my beauty by verivery

첫사랑 by sondia

끝나지 않을 이야기 by Stray Kids (mainly the song i couldn’t listen to for two weeks afterward) 

now i know for sure that i am missing some of my thoughts, and i wish i kept a log after each episode, but you never know what dramas are really going to kick you in the gut until you know. i will probably rewatch this eventually once I’ve recovered a little more. maybe watch a few more rowoon dramas, and then i’ll make a log because literally every episode had something and left you with an imprint, and I'm sure i missed a lot the first watch.

i just really loved this drama and needed to process a fraction of my thoughts and feelings. it was just really good and i loved each episode. and i freaking love haru. once again 100 out of 10 recommend.

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You //Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 9)

A/N: All the fact checking had me reeling to be honest and this is one long-ass chapter, longer than the one where I said 'it's the longest I've written' but actually this wins the competition. I've used some lyrics from the song Photograph cos I felt like it would go nicely with the flow plus I am weak with hospital scenes because of the distresses that occur within it but I tried ya know ¯_(ツ)_/¯ It's a little messy and dramatic on a side note because I had to deal with some outside disturbances as well and my mind was on other things 😔 But again, thank you guys for supporting this series! Your feedbacks mean a lot ♥ Tag list is always open!! (seriously, I need more people to tag xd)

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you the two of you met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: That angst from 8? Yeah, it just upgraded, fluff if you, like, use a microscope, explicit description of blood and injuries, swearing but I kept it to a minimum, mentions of death but there's actually no death. Melodrama, ig? Sorry, I had a hard time writing consistently this week ^^'

WC: 6.5k (Someone got carried away.)

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

@loveandbeloved29

@hardzzellos

Parts: 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

"Someone please help! Help us! "

"Bloody bastard just drove off without even stopping! "

"Are you fu- you left your phone?! He's barely clinging on to life!! Ask a random person to dial 911!"

"Oh god, what- what do we do- his head, his freaking head! There is so much blood right now!"

"D-don't move his neck! He's critical!"

"Rosy. Rosy. Calm down...he has to be fine..he should be... "

"An ambulance is on its way!"

"His head is fucking bloody! Do you even want- fuck! Someone help here! Someone, please help! "

"Is he even breathing?! "

"Oh god, Y/N! He's not- he's not! "

"You better not be joking around!"

"Joe! He is bloody dying and you think I'm fucking joking?!"

"He has no pulse as well..."

"I got to- I have to make an attempt to resuscitate him. "

"Are you sure?"

"We're not waiting for that goddamn vehicle! If I don't do it, he's going to die!"

"Wake up, Ben! Please, wake up..."

Blur. That's what everything was. A huge, uncoordinated, focal blur. A sea of people had crowded the scene like a flock of sheep ready to graze on the pasture, except the only green they had for their eyes was the sight of six, dreadful friends taking it in their hands to keep the seventh one grounded while they wait for professional help.

The ones with flashing cameras hoisted up high to document the scene disgusted you down to the pits of your stomach and you had wished for them to scatter away. You all, especially you had to bear the agony of seeing him motionless on the asphalt ground– without breath, skin drained of color while the only color highlighted in the spectrum was the copious but graphic amount of blood that had tainted the spot he was lying in– his hair coated in the sticky, sanguinary puddle, creating a traumatizing mix of blond and deep red that you now couldn't forget. The tears pricking from your eyes when you had given him mouth to mouth mingling with his bleeding forehead.

He had lost all consciousness at a maximum.

You had ached to cradle his body right there and then but had you acted on impulse; it would've worsened the situation.

Medics had filled in the scene seconds after you had given Ben a well-thought out CPR undeterred by your raging adrenaline. He was then brought into the ambulance with Rosy tagging along to be there when they rush him into the ER. You had gone after with the others in Gwilym's car, your shaking hands coated with drying blood -his drying blood- as you made your way to the hospital in a blistering cruise.

You're still in your dress, only topped with Joe's designer blazer to shield you from the cold and a warm, half-empty cup of brew situated between your palms partially substituting the natural heat of your skin, waiting quietly in the lounging room. They had transferred Ben to a private room after performing an operation on his head and scanning him afterwards. One of the emergency doctors remarked that if it weren't for your initiative to follow first aid protocol and give him immediate resuscitation before help had arrived– he would have gone ten minutes early.

You've been waiting an hour and a half for the doctor to step out of the room and deliver the news about his condition. And while you do that, Joe and Lucy have gone off to collect a fresh pair of clothing from the hotel for you to change into. Rosy is stood at the entrance making some calls, Gwilym and Rami have gone back to their respective hotels to change clothes and come back for the news.

You felt light hearing that comment but it's nothing compared to the aftermath of the accident. It was a hit-and-run and the driver didn't even step on his breaks or bother to stop to take responsibility.

Rami's blazer that had been used to delay Ben's bleeding has been given back to him for dry cleaning. To complicate the situation, you're supposed to be boarded on a plane back to England eight hours from now yet that's something you have to cross out from the bucket list, entirely. You're not going anywhere unless Ben heaves out a single sigh of life.

Not a single step out the fucking institution unless he opens those eyes.

Unless he parts his lips.

Unless he says your name.

You owe it to him for saving your life, nearly costing his.

And it's just 2 in the morning.

You put down the cup on the space next to you, bringing your hands up to your lowered head, underneath your eyes watering from all of that's happened tonight.

"We're back." Two figures stand before you minutes after your eyelids have fluttered shut in despair. You lift your head to be met with Joe and Lucy in their casual clothes, smiling sadly at you with paperbags in hand.

You return that smile with a much weaker one. They settle the bags down and Joe sinks down on one knee in front of you, taking your face in his hands gently while he peeks up at you. "I see the news isn't out yet. You can change, we'll take care of it."

"You sure?" You mumble quietly. He nods and you prolong a sigh as you sit up, getting tenderly lulled into a hug by Lucy. "He's gonna be okay." She expresses definitely as she rubs your back. You thank her for the reassurance before taking one of the bags that contains your clothes.

Pulling the hem of your sweatshirt in place, you couldn't wait to escape the lavatory. It smells of newly applied bleach and the pungent odor is plain nauseating. You close the door with the bag in hand on your way out but freeze in your spot as a certain, exclusive news breaks out in the TV screen above you.

"Just 10pm tonight, Bohemian Rhapsody and EastEnders star, Ben Hardy, has reportedly been gravely involved and injured in a hit-and-run just outside of Wallis Annenberg Center during the ongoing Vanity Fair after party. Sources said that he had dashed headlong down the traffic-jammed streets to what they said was an attempt to save co-star's, Joe Mazzello, date from an incoming vehicle– which he had succeeded in as he failed to save himself–" The rest of the news anchor's words go unprocessed in your head as you hurriedly trace your way back to the lounging area, unwilling to hear recurring reports at yours or anyone's expense.

It already hurts enough that you think it's partly your fault for acting so careless.

By now, the attending physician should be out and conveying the news to Lucy and Joe and as you arrive– he is, hands in his lab coat pockets, informing them in the most serious of tones.

They see you approaching and you ask immediately, words stumbling out of your mouth like perceivable beats. "Doc, how is he? How's Ben?"

With Lucy and Joe already informed about it, the doctor decides to tell you himself to save them the hassle. "He should be fine soon. However I must be frank with you, miss," your heart loses a beat for a fraction of a second at the suspense rising, "he flat lined twice in the ER. It took three sets of defibs to get his heart beating again." Hearing him break to you that Ben was a simple step away from death as they tried to treat him drains the warm color palette in your face, even with the affirmation that he's going to be alright; knowing there were two moments in which he had slipped in and out of life at the same time just upsets your stomach.

The doctor continues with his report, telling you that he's suffered from a mild to severe head trauma caused by the blunt force when he had his scalp dragged along the asphalt. Apparently he fissured the the near front of his skull and underwent neurosurgery for it.  You quickly get the idea, having studied a series of medical topics of course, but it doesn't invalidate the fact that it still sounds like a bad thing.

The doctor sighs and adds. "Although he bled internally at a minimum, he's lucky to have bled externally for the most part."

Forming a steeple of your fingers and stealing a quick glimpse of Lucy and Joe, you gulp hard. "How long 'til he wakes up?"

"I'd say in about 48 hours. His scan results after the surgery showed promise for a stable recovery though he might wake up a little dazed at first due to the moderate concussion," at least you're getting the assurance that he's waking up, "your friend has a thick skull. He'll recover in time, but with short-term effects."

48 hours. Not enough time for you to stay or leave.

"Can we see him? Right now?" Setting your expectations to the highest, you ask with a glimmer of hope and the doctor approves, minding you to turn down the lights in the room as Ben would likely be sensitive to it by the time he wakes. "A nurse will come by and check on him every once in a while as well."

You nod weakly, thanking him professionally as you gradually hang your head in disappointment. He wishes Ben a speedy recovery before turning on his heels, leaving you to it.

Lucy brings her short hair up in a pigtail, asking as she lifts up her share of the paper bags. "Are we going in now? I mean, the doc said we're able to." She vaguely points at the door of the room and you and Joe swap looks before deciding on it. You collect your items from the seats and draw in breaths as you follow suit, stepping into the room and being welcomed by the almost odorless whiff of paint and medicine; along with the light to moderate blow of the air conditioner.

As the door clicks close, you stand motionless yet internally trembling at the heartbreaking sight of Ben lying unresponsive, surrounded by various machines working to keep him alive. Flanking his bed are the heart monitor -fully functional- and a medical ventilator from which he is breathing from. He's hooked up to an IV bag with a breathing tube put into his mouth, his left arm is propped upon his abdomen but protected around a plaster and supported within a blue arm sling and lastly, his head is wrapped in a layer of roller bandage– the giveaway of his major injury.

"Y/N..." Joe cooing breaks you off from your vacant gaze but you hand him a forlorn eye as bring yourself to Ben's side, glancing over his limp body. He's taken quite a hit to have fractured his arm like this. His complexion didn't appear as livid as it is now and marking his bottom lip -which has lost that luscious red tint as well- is a small bruise, parted from his upper lip as he involuntarily breathes through the tube in his mouth. You don't hear his slow exhales but the normal rise and fall of his chest consoles a small part of you; the stable beeping of the heart monitor being the only occuring noise in the room. Concerned with how awfully quiet you've gone, Lucy and Joe give each other fitting looks as they share the same thought on the situation. As one of them begins to step close to ensure you're taking it well, you pipe up before them, your once honey-laced voice diminished to a monotone. "It's...not my fault."

"Of course, it's not," Lucy, being the one who has taken that step close, tenderly agrees but you add.

"It's not but it feels like it is."

Now Joe steps up next but stop as you add once more.

"And I told him I wanted to forget him and for him to do the same." Now some tears are inevitable.

"Y/N-"

"As impractical as it is to think about it now, but what if he does?" your hand has now hovered over him, the nerves of the pads of your fingers itching to skim themselves over his free hand, "I don't want to go. But I have to and he's still not gonna wake up by the time I leave."

His condition just yearns for your touch but you don't want to lay a hand on him just yet, out of the fear that you might hurt a small part of him.

Joe sighs softly as he puts his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them with ease. "Why don't you just email the institution about it? Tell them you're gonna have to delay because of an urgent matter."

"I can do that, but only a day after. I can't take long."

"Rami and Gwilym are on their way," Lucy reminds as she gets off her phone from messaging them, "with some food and water."

"None of us are burning the midnight oil then," Joe stretches his limbs and returns to the couch to take a moment to relax, eyes snapping wide as he remembers something. "By the way, Y/N. If you spilled your heart out to him earlier, did you include the bit where our relationship was all but pretend?"

Surely the stare you and Lucy are sharing towards him could render the atmosphere painful but you answer regardless of the topic, shaking your head as you turn your attention to Ben once more. "No. But he's bound to question it. That is if he remembers what happened."

Lucy rests her hand on her hip as she glances at the heart monitor, the waves tempting her eyes to follow them. "Doctor never implied anything about amnesia."

The three of you fall silent again with you locking your gaze at the man who didn't want to let you go. Who chased you down a busy highway knowing he'd bite the dust if he did and ended up saving you at the expense of his own well-being.

And life.

And his own soul.

He'll recover in a short period, yes. But when you had gently grazed your trembling hand over his bloodied head in the middle of the street, it was as if he was bound to never wake up. A visual you want to shake off for the sake of composure.

Joe and Lucy take notice of your stilled silence again, their expressions low-spirited. Taking small steps towards you, Lucy wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind and pulls out a certain object from her back pocket, slipping it to you. "Found this in the inner pocket of Ben's tainted blazer when the doctors gave his clothes to us."

You cast your gaze to what she's holding and hear your heart shatter at what it is. You slowly take it from her and sweep your thumb over it.

Ben's share of your Homecoming picture.

And behind it, the same date and continuation of what was written on your half.

You piece it in your mind and feel your eyes cloud with tears, a droplet making a small patter as it lands on the polaroid.

He kept it. In his blazer. He brought it along with him.

_I'm not going... anywhere at all. _

"But I am." You mutter as opposed to  the words in your head. For as long as you love him and he doesn't in the way you do, distancing yourself is something that needs to be done to make sure you finally let go. You'd stick around but it would further fragment your soul.

Just in time to tear you from reaching your breakfing point, the door creaks open to two men and a red-haired woman, two of whom are grasping paper bags containing some food and water and one with an overwrought look, respectively.

Lucy leaves your side and walks over to Rami's, kissing his cheek and helping them unload their items on the coffee table. Gwilym gives the three of you, and Rosy who had followed in behind them, an individual hug– asking you about Ben's condition as he lays eyes on him.

You assure him of a smooth recovery and it unknots the lump of worry he's under.

"Oh, Ben, baby... " Breaks down Rosy, who whizzes past you to tear up over her injured fiance. She gazes down painfully at the man before her and delicately fondles his blanch cheek, eyes narrowed to the point where her face has contorted to a scowl which she throws directly at you. "This is all your fault. "

Your brows crease at her in absolute confusion. "What are you talking about?" Sensing that an altercation is about to take place, the rest stumble quiet in preparation for the worst. Joe readies himself to butt in in case it escalates further.

"What did you say to him?" She asks you in a form of a hiss.

"Nothing! I-"

"He chased you down! You must have said something that set him off!" Her demanding voice echoes off the walls, overlaying the beeping and whizzing of both the heart monitor and ventilator. You begin swearing to her that you didn't say anything of the sort but trail off as you realize that what you had actually said, was something that indeed hurt him.

You draw your lips between your teeth and clench your fist, unable to respond with the truth, fearing it might just fuel the fire.

"That's- that's not important now." You shake your head dismissively and turn around.

"It is. You led Ben out into the street, agitated."

"Rosy, please. Can we not talk about this now? We're squabbling in front of an unconscious man-"

"Okay girls. Our boy is out cold but that doesn't mean he can't hear, right?" Eager to quench the growing conflict, Gwilym slides in between the dangerous proximity you've put yourselves in and you huff an apology.

On the other hand, Rosy does the complete opposite. "No, Gwilym. He has been acting strange for weeks and to think tomorrow's supposed to be our wedding! And this is all because of her."

Gwilym turns to her firmly and tries calming - or rather shutting her up for the sake of the peace Ben needs to heal- her down. "We're not throwing fingers here. I know tomorrow's the day and you don't want to put him under pressure, right? I don't think he's going to succumb to waking up if this goes on."

Rami, Lucy and Joe have remained unbelievably quiet but are as keen as Gwilym to prevent something unnecessary as this. It's barely 3 am in the morning for the love of God and you're all in a hospital room. Sleeping patients could bang their fists on the walls from the other side any time.

You, on the other hand, have already made four steps towards the door, ready to leave the room to be alone with your thoughts for the night but you're unable to twist the knob as Rosy snaps once more with the hint, distressing with a clenched jaw.

She's unrelenting.

"Please Y/N, you're overstepping and frankly it's getting in the way of my relationship with Ben."

"You have no idea what I'm trying to do," You mumble in the most bitter of intonations for Rosy to get the message, your fingers clenching around the knob and producing a faint chink. "But he's my best friend. Let me be the person I've always been to him, " you whip your head at her -a stare you're certain could equal to a pelted javelin- and draw your brows together, pleading on account of choosing to be present in a crisis such as this, " he's all yours anyway."

With a strong swing of the door, you march angrily out of the room, making your way outside the building to blow off steam – the smooth rub of the polaroid between your fingers surrendering you to tears.

You give yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back to England to board your flight for Spain.

10 hours

Ben's accident was a clean hit-and-run. Apparently some bystanders had snapped a shot of the license plate the moment the car slowed down and accelerated afterwards. It was then delivered to the police to be given further investigation. His parents have flown in from England to visit him and you badly wish you could greet them but some things are just too heavy to do right now. Back at the hospital, Ben's been given hourly checks and assessments, with each desired result constant. He's not responsive to any physical contact but the doctor is certain that he can perceive sound and sound only.  His body is asleep but his mind isn't.

The rest will be visiting him at dusk while you're going in late with Joe.

After sending an email to the university about your 24-hour delay, you spend the entire day just waiting to go down there and be by his side. Regarding your solitude in the hotel room, Rami had Lucy stay in with him for the meantime and being initially worried about leaving you, she had asked for your permission to which you said yes to.

Sometimes in the day, you can't hold back a few tears at the flashing memory.

17 hours

Loving can hurt

Standing in front of the private room, you clutch the collar of your shirt anxiously, hearing incoherent but distinct murmurs on the other side of the door. Joe looks down at you and squeezes your hand lightly to relieve you of pressure. He knows how much this is affecting you, and though not visually shown, he's taking it hard too.

Loving can hurt sometimes

The door opens to a couple you've familiarized yourself with for so long. Ben's parents.

"Y-Y/N?" Says his mum, unable to believe that it's you standing before her. Your breath hitches as you grin sadly, being pulled into her embrace. "It's been so long."

"It has, Mrs. Jones."

Joe shakes hands with his father as he introduces himself politely. Mr. Jones greets you in with a light hug as well and you can't help but spill a few tears.

But it's the only thing that I know

They give you full access to the room

as they themselves have to leave for a while, thereby trusting their son to his closest circle. Knowing how tight you and Ben are, they give you much of their trust on this one and you'd want nothing more than to make sure he'll wake up without any further complications. They obviously know about Rosy but witnessing how long you and Ben have grown on one another, they trust you the most.

They bid you and Joe goodbye, leaving access to the room exclusive.

When it gets hard

As you begin closing the door behind Joe, he insists that you have some alone time with him. Though it may feel weird but he feels as if you need this the most with time going against you now. Touched by his thoughtfulness, you give him a quick embrace before he leaves you to it.

You know it can get hard sometimes

The sight before you hasn't changed that much.

The same monitors and the same person.

Same feeling.

However you'd rather take everything

in a different light and situation.

You fiddle with your fingers as you accumulate the strength to swallow the lump in your throat, drawing yourself to his side. The mild, incessant whirring of both the air conditioner and ventilator occupies the silent atmosphere along with the steady beeps of the heart monitor, blocking the huge gulp you've taken.

It is the only thing that makes us feel alive

Slowly taking a seat on the stool positioned beside the guard rails of the bed,  you let out a quavery sigh– the byproduct of all the tearing up you've  done today. You take his free hand in yours and stroke his pale knuckles with your thumb, leaning in to plant a kiss on it.

We keep this love in a photograph

"Ben? It's me. Can you hear me?"

One-sided conversations are helpful according to experts and this is the perfect opportunity to tell him everything without having to bear the flits in his expression.

But you beg to differ.

We made these memories for ourselves. Where our eyes are never closing.

You continue, allowing every crack and quiver to manifest in your voice no matter how relatively pathetic it will make you sound.

"Ben, please, you gotta wake up. You're leaving us in a hot mess here, bud. Hell, you gave your parents the scare of their lives. I know I'm starting off rough with this, but it's all cause you had to leap in like that. But then again, it was- it was not your fault. This- all of this is not your doing. I should've been more careful on that road. Would've been better if I had cut back on the melodrama, huh? Haha..."

You lick your lips and resume, owning the patters your tears have soiled on the tiled floor.

Hearts are never broken

"I'm sorry if I had to hide it all from you, " you build it up slowly, tears tenacious to leave your eyes, "it's just that I was afraid you'd soon forget me once you've married and I wouldn't be part of your life anymore. To make matters worse, I have always loved you, Ben. On every level and aspect, I still do. Sticking around to see you spend the rest of your life with someone else when that feeling is still present is just toxic. And to think you're supposed to be wedded tomorrow, "you sniffle, taking a few seconds to form your following words, "that's why it would be easier if we- if we...oh god, I'm actually much more of an actor than you are..." You want to chuckle for it, but nothing resembling a chuckle mopes out of your mouth. Just...short breaths.

Time is forever frozen-

"But I truly am happy for you. I really am. But I can't be happy myself when you've taken a huge portion of my heart and I'm just...I just want to make sure nothing will ever ruin your happiness," You close the distance between you and the bed, your hot tears dripping on his arm sling, the cloth absorbing it. You're really taking advantage of his inability to respond.

"I'm s-sorry, Ben. I don't know how long I can stay by your side like this. Literally like this. But as long as I am able, " you lower your head onto his chest, now shamelessly sobbing like you haven't broken down in centuries, squeezing his free but chilly hand like it's the only thing that'll give you warmth tonight, "I'm sorry if I'm going somewhere."

And still

Despite promising to give you a moment alone with him, Joe -having recurring, inquisitive tendencies- has acted as opposed to his promise and  eavesdropped on your unrequited talk due to having to wait too long, not realizing that after hearing all your words exit in sobs, you've fallen asleep with your head on Ben's chest.

Joe glances around the hall before budging the door open, careful not to disturb you as he sees you out cold next to him. He presses his lips into a hard line and chuckles quietly, amused as he grabs an available sheet from the couch and drapes it over you. The moment he notices a tear droplet stuck in the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sighing profoundly.

"Rosy's gonna flip when she gets back and sees this. So, " Joe, mumbling on his own, tumbles back down onto the couch and kicks back, "I'll be here just in case."

20 hours

So you can keep me

A nurse opens the door with a tray and clipboard in hand to conduct an hourly assessment of his condition, not minding your head placement on his chest. He's still unresponsive to anything external.

I**nside the pocket of your ripped jeans **

As the test ends and the nurse closes the door on her way out, his finger twitches.

30 hours

Holding me closer til our eyes meet

Joe wakes you up softly with a bowl of soup in hand– something he bought from the cafeteria upstairs. You lift your heavy head from its recent spot and blink your bleary eyes at him, giving away a wry smile and telling him you'll eat later on.

You won't ever be alone

"By they way, this slipped from your pocket." He slips something off the table and hands it to you with a knowing look, that something being the dual polaroids you've taped together the other night. You take it from him deliberately and turn your head to Ben, before staring down at the joint pictures, nostalgia ever so sudden like a whiplash.

Wait for me to come home

35 hours

Loving can heal

Rami and Lucy have stopped by to visit and take your 'shifts' considering Rosy is still absent and you and Joe had to return to the hotel to change. The attending physician and a nurse come in to replace his breathing tube with a nasal cannula, since the assessment done hours prior has shown that he's already capable of breathing on his own.

39 hours

Loving can mend your soul

"Funny how today is supposed to be his wedding but we're getting a funeral instead. " Morbidly comments one of Ben's visitors and closest friends. Every single person in the room who has come by to visit Ben shoots a death glare at him for making that joke within a two feet radius of Ben who is sure to give him a bop on the head the minute he gets up.

41 hours

And it's the only thing that I know

Meanwhile Rosy had spent the entire day rescheduling the wedding and the once volatile reactions she's had do a 360 and is brought down to one, constant look as she bumps into you on your way to Ben's room.

42 hours

I swear it will get easier, remember that with every piece of you

You both don't say a word until you've settled down on the couch as she strays to Ben's side and wipes the glistening speckle of sweat on his cheek with her thumb, the silence coming to a close as you pry the words out of your mouth.

"Rosy, believe me. I have never harboured the thought of coming between you both. I'm only ever there for him as a friend."

And it's the only thing we take with us when we die

Giving you an impassive eye, she ignores your words entirely and turns her attention back to her fiance.

45 hours

We keep this love in a photograph

You don't leave the room with the hours progressing to the moment he's timed to wake up. A lot of people have paid him a visit, cracking jokes and talking to him notwithstanding the fact that he's utterly unresponsive. They've done all they can to lighten the mood in the room, hoping all their antics and bliss would lure Ben out of his induced insensibility. But he's nowhere near the edge.

We made these memories for ourselves

47 hours

With Rosy snuggled up against his side, Ben retains immobility and it's a sight you're not used to since he's one of the most fidgety arseholes who's ever graced your life. You know you'd be bombed by her if you do this with her close by, but you had given yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back.

Where our eyes are never closing, hearts are never broken

And so you wander to the opposite side of the bed and peer at down your wristwatch for the time.

Time's forever frozen and still.

48 hours

"Ben?" You whimper close to his ear. He's not responding. You know he wouldn't wake up that quickly at the strike of the exact hour but you're impatient to say goodbye to him with his forest, green eyes on full display and wandering around your (Y/E/C) ones to bolster you up.

"Hey." You coax into his ear again, still no response. The racing beat of your heart has matched the beeps of the heart monitor. His heart beats. The similarity is sketchy but nearly symbolic. You're leaving in the morning and he's not up and lively for you to fervently crush in a parting embrace.

"Bud, please. I can't force you to wake up but I'm leaving tomorrow. You have to help me...here." At this point, though how eager you are to, you can't let some tears stream down from your eyes since the possibility of Rosy waking up to you catching sobs is feasible, but Ben's involuntary stillness is not helping you with that ordeal. Losing all hope for a night, you straighten up and collect your things from the couch, deciding to come back one last time tomorrow prior to your departure.

You quickly open the door to the attending physician who's about to step in to take physical tests but you whisk past him without taking a second look.

Easy to say you didn't have a good night sleep with all the stresses weighing down on you that night. Either you hyperventilated in your slumber or remained asleep but with tears seeping from your half-closed eyes.

You've sent Lucy a text in the early hours of the morning notifying her about your departure today. She hasn't responded yet.

"Just a 24-hour delay? Are they that heartless?" Leaning on the door frame of your hotel room with a bitten donut in his hand, Joe questions as he watches you prop your luggage against the open door. "I had to reschedule the flight thrice last month, this one being the latest. It's only reasonable," You huff as a matter of fact, fixing the scarf that has dangled loose around your neck and staring into oblivion barely a second after going tight-lipped.

Finishing his donut, Joe pokes you out of your momentary trance. "You alright?"

You shake your head.

"I don't even know if he's awake now. It's past 48 hours and what if he-"

"There's only one way to find out," appeasing your elevating worry, he grabs you by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye, silently guaranteeing you of his recovery.

Since he'll be driving you to the airport, your things are neatly stored in the confines of the backseat but of course, you have to see Ben one last time, setting aside all the excruciating anticipation.

You scurry into the entrance with Joe by your side, out of breaths by the time you arrive at the door of Ben's room. Taking precautionary measures, you knock firmly on the surface expecting someone or Rosy to answer. But nada. You swap some looks with Joe and twist the knob gently, finding the room free of visitors and medical staff. Perhaps they've assessed him an hour prior.

"No one's around."

As you begin slipping a foot through the ajar door, Joe puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-step.

"Lucy's on her way."

His update on her reply makes you smile and you continue into the room, seeing the curtains that had blocked the sunlight for two days cast aside, spilling some sunlight into the room.

You take small, wobbly steps along the floor, unable to accept that until now he hasn't fluttered open those orbs you loved staring into so much. You suddenly fear that a complication has risen and is causing his extended unconsciousness but that must be the least of your worries.

So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

He has to hear you. He has to. He has to.

He's gone really pasty. Dark circles under his eyes despite being asleep for two days. He has grown a scruff and looks painfully unruly, but still a face of an angel. You crouch and take his free hand in yours– careful not to disconnect the IV tube from his wrist, caressing it and drawing in a sharp inhale to free yourself of any doubt to speak up. "Ben. It's Y/N. You're scaring us, you know. The doctor said you'd wake up earlier but why? Why haven't you? What are you doing in there?"

This being the end of the long haul for you, you're not forcing anything at bay anymore– not your tears, not your peeves and certainly not your feelings. You interlace your fingers around his and kiss the back of his hand, your cheeks growing scarlet and wet with tears.

Holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won't ever be alone.

You get up from crouching and throw your arm around him in defiance of the possibility of applying a lot of pressure on his chest. It feels so different holding him that way. For the time you have left, an overly emotional, one-sided conversation should make up for the lost times that would've been great for those.

And if you hurt me, that's okay baby only words bleed

"You really kept that Homecoming picture, didn't you? Coincidentally I did too, just forgot it was there as well. But I pieced it back, by the way. Ironic that we both made a promise on those polaroids the night before graduation. I-I have it with me here, just so you know. Just thought I'd bring it out since...I'll be going soon." You pull the pictures out from the pocket of your coat with trembling hands, eager to wave them in front of him. Once out, you place it on the bedside table for him to keep once more but with your share of the picture.

Inside these pages you just hold me, and I won't ever let you go

You lay your forehead on his, your tears dripping onto his closed lids as you sob his name to get him to wake, at the same time feeling his soft exhales brush against your chin. " I told you I'd be strong and I'm trying to be. I know it sounds like a selfish thing to do but you have to trust me on this one. I want to move on, Ben. You're bound to be wedded soon and have a family of your own. I want to be there for that. I want to be that aunt who'll spoil your kids and make them fight you for the craziest demands. Those things I'd gladly do...if I wasn't this hopeless for you," Little by little, your voice comes out as broken whisper– losing your strength to add any more things to say in the process. On the other side of the door, Joe is finally joined by Lucy who has arrived not a minute late and they can't help but tear up a little at how uncontrolled your crying is slowly turning out, it's become audible enough to be heard from outside.

"Ben, buddy. Come on." He huffs against the hardwood as he and Lucy are tempted to barge in.

Burying your face into the exposed column of his neck with your arm slackening from being draped across his chest, you utter a voiceless but heartfelt statement.

Wait for me to come home

"I love you, Benjamin Jones. Be happy for me."

Your words hang thinly in the fragile air as you pull away from that proximity and leave a long kiss on his forehead, walking back sadly to the door with your hand outstretched ready to grab ahold of the knob.

"H-how could I be..."

The words released sound like a mere memory resonating in your head but you are proved wrong once you turn around.

[yukipage]

Promises (Connor/Reader)

Blue Lips, Blue Veins: Part 4

Characters: Connor (RK800), Reader, Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Summary: You choose to sacrifice yourself for Connor's sake. He does everything in his power to save your life with mounting frustration at your reckless actions.

Author: Thank you guys who participated! I tabulated all of the responses from both Ao3 and my Tumblr, and this was the most popular choice. To be honest, it wasn't what I expected, but it was fun to take the story in a different direction. Thanks for reading and have a nice day :)

Square: SACRIFICE

What happens next is not a consequence of careful planning or logic. You don’t think, because there is no time to think; you do. In the blink of an eye, you throw yourself in front of Connor just as Zlatko pulls the trigger. Pain rips into your torso and your forearm, bringing you to your knees. For a split second, Connor just stares at you in shock. Your mouth opens in a silent wail as you feebly clutch your chest. Breaking from his stupor, Connor yanks the gun from your incapacitated grip, sending fresh waves of agony through your entire being. Without hesitation, and with deadly aim, he shoots Zlatko straight through the forehead. The shotgun slips from Zlatko’s grasp and he collapses like a felled tree in a growing puddle of his own fluids.

Meanwhile, you are in your own personal hell. Blood flows freely over your fingers, the stain in your shirt growing ever wider. Unbidden, a whimper escapes your lips. Connor’s head snaps in your direction and the gun clatters to the floor. Quickly, he kneels down next you and lays you on your back. He pulls off his necktie and ties a tourniquet around your upper arm. The android’s movements are precise and calculated; his attention doesn’t waver from his task and his hands don’t shake. As he works, he makes an emergency call. “Yes 911? An officer has been shot. I’m performing first aid now.” He gives them the address and hangs up curtly. Shrugging off his coat, he rolls up his sleeves and presses the piece of fabric into your chest wound. You writhe underneath the weight. “I need to apply pressure to your injury,” he explains quietly. “None of your major arteries are punctured, but I have to stop the bleeding.” You stare glassy-eyed at the ceiling, praying for any distraction from the suffering. You turn your gaze towards him and notice a small hole in his wrist, thirium trickling from it to his hand.

“Connor,” you gasp. Your breathing comes out short and quick, leaving you permanently winded.

“Don’t speak,” he orders. With your free hand, you grab his arm and squeeze with all your might. Connor refuses to meet your eyes, focusing determinedly on your wound. Tears roll down your cheeks as you use him to anchor you through the excruciating pain. You will yourself to pass out. Only after what seems like an eternity, with sirens growing louder in the distance, do you slip limply into the sweet release of unconsciousness.

When you return to the world, the first thing you notice is the smell. The distinct scent of sterile sheets and spotless hallways fills your nostrils. Then, you become aware of the soft, steady beeping of a heart rate monitor. Cautiously, you take inventory of your injuries. Your chest and arms ache dully, but it’s nowhere near what you felt before. You slowly open your eyes. The room you’re in is pretty stereotypical for a hospital. A whiteboard hangs on the wall directly across from you, announcing the nurse on duty in blue dry-erase marker. In the corner, a small television is mounted on the wall. You shift your hands and notice the tubes attached to you, leading to the machines on your left. To your right, sits a jacketless and tieless Connor in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He stares blankly at the wall. “Hey,” you say, trying to get his attention. Connor remains motionless. “Connor, please. Talk to me.”

“Did you know that there many, many other RK800 models in storage at CyberLife?” His tone is even and measured. “If I’m ever damaged beyond repair, a fair amount of data that I’ve collected so far will be transferred into the memory of another android and my mission will continue.”

Your mouth twists into a frown. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

“You could have just shot him!” Connor explodes. “None of this would have happened if you didn’t insist on blindly putting yourself in danger!” He falls silent, gripping your blanket to compose himself.

You sigh. “You’re right. I should have shot him. I wasn’t thinking.” You take a few moments to formulate what you want to say. “Look, I don’t care if you’re an android. I just didn’t want anyone… to die.” You bite your tongue to keep the word else from slipping out. “In the two days that I’ve known you, I’ve come to consider you as a friend. Which, frankly, is unheard of when it comes to me. I don’t… I don’t tend to trust people that easily. Uh…” You try to recover. “I’m rambling. Anyway, the point is that I’m not going to promise to not try to save you. But, what I will promise is to try to think about the best option; one that doesn’t involve killing myself. Alright?” Connor terse nods in agreement. “Ok then. So,” you exhale. “What’s the damage? How long was I out for?”

“You’ve been unconscious for around twenty seven hours. They kept you under in order to remove the bullets from your body. You had two in your chest and one in you arm.” You gently feel the bandages under your shirt and on your am. “There were mild complications, but no permanent harm was done. You’re to be released within the next few days.”

“You stayed with me all this time?”

“Yes. I only managed to get ahold of Hank in the past hour. He’ll be here shortly.”

“Geez.” You finger your bandages. “I got off lucky. Or, not luck, since you basically saved my life.” You notice the tear in the cuff of Connor’s shirt and your memories flood back. “What happened?” You take his hand and turn it over. A small, ragged hole is punched through the fabric, but his wrist is unblemished underneath.

He watches you. “A stray bullet hit me. My skin repaired itself.”

With the ball of your thumb, you rub the skin exposed by the bullet hole. “You know, you really shouldn’t devalue yourself so much. Your life matters too.”

The door bursts open and you release him with a start. Hank marches into the room, out of breath. “Blue, thank God you’re ok. You are ok, right?”

You crack a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tore up.”

“Good, good.” He regains his breath, then pivots towards Connor. Hank grabs him and lifts him up by the collar. “Why did you let this happen you piece of crap?” He shakes the android.

“Hank! Hank, let him go; it wasn’t his fault.” You attempt to get out of bed but wince as the pain in your chest and the tubes pumping drugs into your veins hold you back. Hank sets Connor free and helps you back into a relaxed position. “Take it easy, kid. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” you reiterate. “He stopped me from bleeding out. If it weren’t for him, I would be dead.”

“Ok, I believe you. It’s alright.” Hank adjusts your pillow and looks back at Connor, who’s smoothing down his rumpled shirt. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“There’s no need, Lieutenant. I would be angry too if I were in your position.” You smirk at the irony of that statement compared to how Connor had just yelled at you.

“Well, I’m here not just for Blue. TV on,” Hank says. The screen blares to life, displaying a news station.

“We’re still unclear about what exactly what occurred during the android infiltration of Channel 16’s broadcasting station. The Detroit police are now being joined by the FBI in investigating the turn of events. No official statement has been released yet about the alarming breach of security that happened yesterday morning,” states a female reporter, with a video of a skinless android playing on loop in the background.

“Yes, I already knew,” Connor says. “But I couldn’t reach you until now and someone had to stay with Blue. We should head to the crime scene immediately.” He directs his gaze to you, almost tenderly. “Rest well, Blue.”

“Yeah. Heal up. We can’t have you down for the count like this.” Hank passes a hand over your forehead and you grin weakly at him. “I’ll keep you posted on what goes down, don’t worry.”

That is the last time you see your friends for some time. Over the next couple of days, you watch Detroit descend into a state of panic from your hospital bed. You keep your eyes glued to the TV, listening to the reports of a group of deviants freeing androids from a CyberLife store, of a peaceful protest led through the downtown shopping center. You weep at the footage of the android bodies gunned down and splayed haphazardly in the streets. True to his word, Hank updates you every now and then. “I tell you, Connor scared the crap out of me. He’s going to give me a heart attack one day. He was connected to a deviant right before it blew its freaking brains out! And the look on his face afterwards… I swear, Blue. He said that he felt it die. He said he was scared.”

“Holy crap,” you murmur.

“I know, right? Connor also was able to get something out of it. A word: Jericho. We don’t know what it means yet. I’ll get back to you tomorrow, after we visit some retired CyberLife guy named Kamski.”

The word runs through your head over and over again as you wait out the long hours. Eventually, you learn from Hank that it’s the name of the deviant’s secret hideout. He tells you that the police are booted from the case and the FBI took over. Connor was not happy. Coincidently, someone broke into evidence just before the android supposedly went back to CyberLife. You don’t think for one second that Connor gave up his mission.

More time passes, then it’s the night before your release day. You drum your fingers on the empty meal tray, sick of your prison and the world that surrounds you. Anger eats at you as you play back what the skeptic announcers said about the deviants. Their protests prove that they feel, that they’re really people! That they are alive! Your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Hank. It reads: ‘The Feds found Jericho, but they’re not telling us where its at. I heard that they’re sending a raid. I think Connor may have found it first, though.’ Another message: “They got an anonymous tip about its location. I think it was him.”

Your mind races. If Connor knows where Jericho is, then he must be there. What if he gets caught in the raid? You’re busy texting this sentiment to Hank, when the sound of a helicopter whirs overhead. You look out the window and see it fly by, FBI plastered on the its side in large white lettering. It’s heading, by your estimate, toward the abandoned docks a couple of miles away. Hastily, you try to call Hank, but he doesn’t answer. You ball your hand into a fist. Someone has to warn the deviants. Or at least get Connor out. Or both! You pound the tray table, then rip the tubes from your arms. The monitor flat lines as your feet hit the floor. You’re done feeling useless. You’ve got to go to Jericho to find him and warn the others, no matter what happens. Right? Looking around the room, you struggle to come up with a plan that will help you achieve your goal.

Choose: Triangle: SNEAK THROUGH HALLWAY. Square: ESCAPE OUT WINDOW. Circle: RETURN TO BED.

|Ao3| |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|

[justsoyoudonthaveto]

Would you believe that a) it’s Halloween and I’m writing about a Christmas movie; b) we’re just 2 months away from this entire shitty year and c) this is my 100th blog post?!?!?  I can’t believe it and I’m living that right now! 

I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I’ve taken a huge break from doing these this year. And with this year, I’m sure you all understand. For a long time I didn’t want to watch sunny shows where the hero just wants to be happy and explore his need to be a mime in Paris while simultaneously running away from his family’s law practice, where the heroine just needs him to buckle down and be serious. Running away from a well-paying job? Are you freaking insane? And love might be all you need, but it sure is helpful if you don’t have to worry about medical bills. This year has been exhausting, and I just couldn’t. As much as these movies are comfort food, I needed something different, which explains why I watched Great British Baking Show twice, learned how to make a killer lemon drizzle and amazing bread, and stress-read Twitter about the state of the country. All of which means that this weekend, which saw me take time off to self-care and watch BBC’s North and South for the first time and immediately plan for a re-watch, has me back to Christmas Movies, with this gem of a movie that should have everything. So let’s get going for One Royal Holiday.

I will start by saying I love Laura Osnes. I voted for her when she was on the Grease reality show, and saw her in Bandstand 3 times. I am less of a fan of Aaron Tveit, more so because of the horrendous man perm he had to sport during Les Miserables. However, it’s not nearly as bad as the man bun I just saw on the latest concert version of my favorite musical, so I guess I should move on from the perms. Except how the hell did those perms mean an Academy Award for best hair and makeup? WTF? Anyway.

Aaron plays His Royal Highness Prince James of Galwick. Is that near Lichtenstein, or Cornwall, like that one where the heroine was from New Jersey? His mom is played by the amazing Victoria Clark and she better sing, damn it. And in the very first scene, where Queen Gabriella and Prince James are in some kind of hospital benefit thanking them for the care they gave their late husband and father, Queen Gabriella is wearing a tiara. I’m sure we’ve learned something from the countless viewings of Downton Abbey (as well as anything the Queen does) and one does not wear a tiara to a benefit during the freaking day. British accents are on point though. Good for them.

Laura Osnes is a nurse named Anna, who is heading home for Christmas, and her home is some tiny New England town where her dad owns an inn. Looks like her mom is dead. Present wrapping montage, and we’re not even 10 minutes in. And Anna is off home where there’s a wicked nor’easter heading her way (she’s in Boston).

James has to make a Christmas Eve speech, which apparently the entire monarchy of Galwick is depending on. But not before he and his mom stop at Donny’s Donuts for tea. Anna’s there for coffee and is freaking out over a “Christmas Cruller” which is basically an eclair. But horrors, the storm has grounded the royal plane, and the hotel in Boston is full up, and James and Anna have had a meet cute over the eclair, and we’ve found out that Galwick is in Northern Europe. Anna is offering her dad’s inn, and now her own car when the royal car driver says he’s not going to drive to Connecticut. Queen Gabriella is already in love with Anna, and her free eclairs, and they are all carpooling to Connecticut on roads that are remarkably traffic free. Oh, and BTW, James has not told her he’s a prince, and she’s just said her town has a Christmas Eve Pajama Ball and Oh My GOD I think I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of Christmas Movie Cliches and I love every minute. BTW, James is a huge pill.

Royal retainer has just let the cat out of the bag to Anna’s dad and now Anna knows that they’re royalty. But because James is such a cool guy, he’s going to carry up their bags up the stairs but because he’s also royal, he doesn’t know that suitcases have handles. Anna’s BFF from high school is now the Sassy Mayor. And James has just asked for the “pillow menu” where the guests get to choose which kind of pillow to sleep on. Sassy Mayor is all about getting the royals on social media for the town, but then she gets an eyeful of Christopher, the royal retainer, and Sassy Mayor is all heart-eye emojis. And here is the first commercial break.

What is this vest and why is it weird?

Sing-a-long at the Inn, and the carolers are dressed like Dickens characters – because carolers are only allowed to dressed like Dickens characters. Gabriella and Anna are bonding over the buffet, while James is on the phone with the Prime Minister of Galwick who is clearly not a monarchist. But Gabriella loves the food at the Inn, and methinks Queenie is going to play matchmaker between Innkeeper Dad and the Cook. James missed dinner and is eating his feelings through a 5 lb container of popcorn, but Anna is nice and brings him a plate of lobster mac and cheese.

As expected, there’s been a huge snowstorm, which is not in evidence with the b-roll of shots of the house. They are snowbound and Anna wants to know what royalty does all day. James says it’s not like a Jane Austen novel where they drink tea and read poetry. No, not at all. Sometimes they have elaborate picnics. And that is a line from this beautiful movie. Another b-roll shot of the Inn, which shows the road completely plowed. But the airport is still closed, so now they can attend the Kentsbury Christmas Parade. James can’t measure up to his dead father with his make-or-break Christmas Eve Speech. FYI, James started dragging the sled of donated toys, and next shot, Anna is dragging it. So much for the chivalry of princes.

FYI – in 2 days, we won’t see any political ads on TV for almost 12 months. Huzzah!

Everyone in the little town seems to think that Anna is dating James because they are walking down the street together. James stepped in a slush puddle and now they both have to take a carriage ride back to the inn. Just go with it. Heart to heart about James’ speech worries. Anna says he should be himself. Oh, how great that advice is.

Husband just asked how great this movie is. I said the words Christmas Eve Pajama Ball. He is seriously thrilled.

The room where the Ball is going to be held had a roof malfunction, and now where are they going to have it? James suggests the Inn, so of course they’re going to do it – and before we can say Hot Chocolate – they are going to decorate the Inn’s family tree! Singing! Tree Trimming! Lights! Husband just is annoyed that all the lights in the big tangle of string lights work, because that is not reality.

DANG IT – they are going to split the ball into Pajama for Kids and Formal Ball for Adults. This is not what I signed up for.

Anna and James meet in the kitchen in their plaid jammies, and Anna name checked Captain Von Trapp, so cool, except for the fact that Christopher Plummer NEVER showed up in a bathrobe. Anna has also introduced James to the magic of a Lazyboy recliner couch. And James is now giving Anna advice about how great a formal ball would be and it’s not a slap in the face of the memory of Anna’s dead mom. Anna is also wearing way too much makeup for late night cocoa rendezvous.

Plot question – why is James a Prince, and not King? Shouldn’t he have been coronated by now?

Anna brought James up to the attic to look for ball decorations, and he seems to have a flair for decorating. They head in to town for more garland, and James borrowed skinny jeans and boots from Christopher, and that’s not weird at all. And Anna has major good ideas for James’ speech, so good for her. Shopping Montage! Decorating Montage! So Many Lights! So Many Trees! Romantic moments by a ladder! Dancing! They are going to Dance to The Christmas Waltz. WHAT IS THIS SONG? Dance Lessons Await! (FYI, I do this with younger son in our kitchen, and it is a delight of my life). Oh, man, dad just messed up that romantic dance.

Dad is Fairy Godfather here and found dresses for Anna to wear that were her mom’s. But first, Gingerbread House Building! James is good at it and he made a castle. And Gabriella just made them a Galwickian Yule Cake (which is an eclair). Christmas Eve is in 3 days, and now there’s black ice on the roads and it’s just too dangerous to go to the airport.

Sassy Friend tells her that she can work it out with Christopher, so Anna can work it out with James, but Anna is being realistic because he’s a prince and she’s a nurse, and if he’s half as eligible as Prince Harry, then she is in the right, and Sassy Mayor is living in La La Land. But whatever, Anna deserves to find Love.

Town Candlelight Sing A Long. Lots of longing looks over the candles, but Anna can’t express her love for James because they have to sing Joy to the World (without the religious 3rd verse). But they are now back in the ballroom for Anna to tell him how she feels, but she is blocked by his phone and the fact that it’s the palace, telling him that he was photographed with Anna in the town square and it’s an international scandal of Christmas Carol proportions. And because Anna is selfless, she says thanks to James and tells him he should care for his people and go be a prince. And because he’s emotionally repressed, he says ok and he heads out.

Sassy Mayor gets to go to Galwick for New Year’s because Christopher is NOT emotionally repressed. Gabriella left a gown for the cook to wear to the ball, and James has arrived home to the literally smallest castle ever. It’s smaller than Disneyland.

SAD TIMES! James and Anna both. 14 minutes left. Anna doesn’t know what to wear, but Dianne the cook looks great in the Queen’s dress. And James has figured out that Anna helped out his dad at the hospital when he was ill. Oh my goodness all the coincidences! Anna’s dress has pockets, y’all. James’ Christmas speech is on the internet, and his military uniform clearly doesn’t fit. And HUZZAH James shows up at the ball and his tuxedo suit does fit. And more about James’ dad, yada yada yada. And they kiss and head into the ballroom where they get to finish their Christmas Waltz. All Laura Osnes’ Cinderella dance experience is clearly paying off here. But we’re not done yet – everyone is in their pajamas at the fireplace for the final scene – and again Cinderella vibes, because James brought her Christmas Royal Bedroom Slippers. But he didn’t bring enough for everyone! The End.

This movie had everything and it was delightful, even if Victoria Clark didn’t sing. Sorry for the blurry pictures – WordPress changed their way of doing things while I was baking and I am still trying to figure it out. Glad to get back into this even if we’re still technically in Halloween territory. Aren’t you glad I watched, just so you don’t have to?

#100 – One Royal Holiday Would you believe that a) it's Halloween and I'm writing about a Christmas movie; b) we're just 2 months away from this entire shitty year and c) this is my 100th blog post?!?!? 

[stevenrogers5-blog]

Ability

Summary: You have an injury on the field that leads you to using crutches for a while. And of course everyone wants to play with them. Little do they know it will have a pretty bad consequence. 

Warnings: Bad words

A/N: I had hip surgery back when i was about 10-11 years old. It was hell but i thought i should finally do a writing about it because everyone wanted to play around on my crutches. 

You were groggy as you move your head, opening your eyes slowly. You are met with a bright light. You groan lightly, shifting again, moving your leg. This action shoots a massive pain into your hip, causing you to holt all actions. You cry out lightly, causing a massive hand to grab at yours. You blink a few times and are met with icy blue eyes. You blink a few more times, causing them to grow a bit more warmer.

“Hey..” Steve says while he is rubbing his thumb across your knuckles, trying to sooth your obviously confused nerves. You look away from him and look down at your legs. Your hospital gown is just above your bandaged thigh. You look back at Steve with a panicked look. You reach for your bandage but Steve’s hand stops you.

“It’s okay, Y/N, your hip came out of place during a mission. We brought you immediately back and Bruce did his best…” Steve trails off as he looks down at your hip. “You are gonna need physical therapy and your off of missions for a few months.”

“I’m what?!” You try to yell but your vocal cords rub rawly against each other, causing your voice to just come out raspy and quiet. You struggle slightly, the tears starting to come because of the mixture of pain and confusion.

“Hey… don’t cry! We will have you back in shape in no time!” Steve explains, wiping any tears that did escape. You nod your head as you try to relax your nerves.

“Can you please get me some water?” You mutter. Steve nods his head and reaches for the glass and pitcher. He pours some water and puts a straw in the glass. He turns back to you, causing you to slightly sit up. Steve helps you up a little more, you wince but try to shrug the pain off as your lips meet the straw. You suck up most of the liquid, the deep dryness in your throat slowly disappearing. You let the straw slip away from you lips, laying back with a content sigh. “So i just dislocated my hip?”

“We do not know what exactly what happened. I just know that you went to flip over a guy, he pulled your leg and then it was a blur of everyone finishing off everyone and me rushing you to the quinjet.” Steve explains. You groan as you close your eyes then open them slowly. You look up at him with sleepy yet painful eyes.

“My body is absolutely exhausted. Who knew a mission and surgery could tire one person out.” You laugh tiredly as you close your eyes again. Steve grabs your hand softly, causing you to open your eyes once again.  

“I am gonna let you sleep some more. I love you.” Steve kisses your forehead and sits back, pulling out his book. You nod your head and close your eyes, almost instantly falling back to sleep.

Few days passed and you were already back among the people. Of course on crutches but still among the people. It was a struggle for everyone to get use to you on crutches. They treated you like a little doll which actually was no help to your recovery. Yet they wanted to mess around on your crutches every chance they got. Peter was the worst but you had sorta gotten use to him messing around on them. It was days like this had would make him soon join your crippled life and if only you knew that when getting out of bed.

You crutch into the kitchen, happy it is empty for once. You go to yours and Vision’s shared drawers and pull out your favorite coffee blend. You crutch your way to the stove top, one of many, and stand in front of the counter. You lean slightly against it and grab at the kettle and shake it to see if their is enough water left. Thankfully Vision left a little from his morning tea. You smile as you turn the stove top on and place the kettle on top of the glowing red surface. You turn yourself with the aid of your crutches and slowly crutch to the other side of the kitchen, missing as many puddle as possible. Though Steve tried to clean up the few here and there, today was his all day training and he couldn’t help you. You huff as you finally make it in front of the cupboard full of mugs. You open it and grab your favorite mug. You place it on the counter, turn and place it on the island. You slide it lightly, making sure it doesn’t fall off the other end.

Once it stops, you crutch your way back to the stove top. You stand in front of the counter and twist enough to grab your mug. You place it on the counter next to the stove top and slightly lean against the counter once again. You stand there silently awaiting the kettle to let you know the water is hot enough. You hear the kitchen door slide open and soon hear footsteps making their way to the fridge.

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter says. You nod your head as you stand there, trying to catch your breath. That was one of the many unfortunate things about having asthma and being stuck on crutches. You guys stand in silence as you feel his eyes drift from the fridge to the back of your head.

“Hi Peter…” You trail off. You guys go back to stand in silence before he closes the door. You hear a bottle of water open and soon Peter is walking towards you. He takes a drink and then smiles at you.

“So how are you?” He asks, grabbing for your crutches. You give him a weird look but give it no thought. Everyone loves to play around on your crutches and they usually are good at giving them back when you need them back.

“I am good. I just came for a cup of coffee.” You explain as he starts crutching around the kitchen. You pour the coffee mixer in your mug and go to turn around. But the scene that soon finds its way in front of you will forever become a great story for years to come. You turn around and right as you do, Your crutches catch a puddle, causing Peter to lose balance and to fall flat on his side. Your crutches are thrown in random directions as Peter starts rolling over. You stand straighter on your left leg, completely lost at words as you try to calculate how you're gonna get to the other side of the room where your crutches and injured Peter where.

“Peter, fling some web in my direction please. I can pull myself towards you.” You say, kind of waving your hands towards you.

“Here…” Peter trails off as he flings web in your direction. You take a hold and start to pull yourself towards him. You take your time as your left leg is starting to get sore. But in no time you are on the ground by Peter’s side.

“Where does it hurt?” You ask, softly reaching for his right arm. He grumbles as you get closer to his now separated radius. You grab it softly and the cry that escaped his lips was scary enough to cause all actions to stop.

“There, it hurts there…” He whines as you push him onto his back. He lays there, holding his right arm in his left hand. You panic for a second because you know for a fact that you can’t just help him get up and to the hospital ward for actual medical help. You can’t even stand up without those damn crutches. You whimper as you start to lose ideas till it hits you. You live in the freaking Stark tower!

“FRIDAY, please call Tony!” You exclaim.

“Calling Tony Stark.” Friday speaks and soon the ringing sounds echo through the Kitchen. Then Tony’s beautiful voice comes over the speakers.

“This better be important. We are busy trying to update weapons up here.” Tony says into the speaker.

“Tony! Peter broke his arm because he was fucking around on my crutches and now we both are on the floor and we both know i can’t get him up without help. So PLEASE COME HELP!” You yell back at  him. He keeps silent for a second before you hear what you assume is his hand smacking his forehead.

“I’m on my way.” And with that, Tony hangs up. You look down at Peter as the pain is slowly taking over his features. “Hey, just breath through it. I am going to try and push the bone back into place so they don’t have to do too much to it once they get you to the hospital ward…” You trail off as Peter gives you a panicked look. You guys sit a few more seconds before you grab his forearm softly, but with a shaky hand.

“This is gonna fucking hurt!” Peter exclaims, “I regret everything! I wish i had the ability to just heal quickly!”

“Well you aren’t alone in that!” You say, moving closer and holding his hand firmer in your hand. “ 3, 2, ...1!” A loud crack noise came and the scream that ripped through Peter’s body will forever haunt your dreams. Tears start streaming down both of your faces as Tony and some medical people make it through the door. The look of pure horror across Tony’s face was exactly who you felt. The medical team gets Peter’s arm set and is soon taking him to the hospital ward.

“The kids lucky you were here.” Tony says as he wraps his arms around your torso. He slowly lifts you so you’re once again standing on your left leg. You lean against the counter as Tony picks your crutches up and helps you get them under your arms. He moves over to your left side and lets you lean on him.

“I am just glad he’s gonna be okay. That was a bitch of a break.” You respond finally. A medical examiner motions for Tony to help you up onto the counter. He picks you up and places you on the counter. The medical examiner is soon taking off your bandage and making sure your stitches are still in. You hiss slightly as she starts to put a new bandage on it. Steve soon appears around the corner, a panicked look across his face.

“What happened?! I heard that you and Peter were hurt!” Steve questions as the medical examiner walks away.

“Peter was fucking around on my crutches and he broke his arm. He’s lucky i have the ability to set bones and such.” You explain, smiling sleepily at your boyfriend. He just shakes his head as he hugs you.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He says as he kisses your forehead.

“I just want to go back to bed.” You huff as Tony and Steve help you off of the counter.

“Anything for my girl.” Steve mumbles before putting the crutches under your arms. You just smile and you two make your way to your room.

[ibangtanthings]

Owned - pt 8

He didn’t get out of the car.

The silence was unbearable. Neither of you could look at each other. The driver pulled up the window in the partition separating the front and back seats, somehow making the moment more haunting.

Your hand didn’t move and his was as still as a statue’s. His whole body was frozen. Finally you mustered up the courage to face him, and his expression was dark. His eyes narrowed in thought and his other hand clenched into a fist.

For the first time in a while, you were small again, not knowing what to do or say . He was just as intimidating as the first time you met in the office. Everything about this moment was so wrong, so cold.

“Namjoon.” You said calmly, not daring to move your hand from under his fingers. He held it tighter before pulling you out of the car and into the building. Not once did he even look at you.

Every step felt like walking through the toughest waves but his hand pulled you along easily.

“Sit down Y/N.” He ordered, when he stopped at the couch and sat.

You sat on the other end and looked at your hand in his, pale and ghostly veins trailing up your forearm. The blood running through your body thin and alive. The thought of sharing that blood seemed unreal.

He pulled your closer until you were in his arms, sitting right next to him.

You were caught off guard when he tilted your head up and his lips met yours.

“You can’t be pregnant Y/N.” He said gravely, finally making eye contact.

The fear in his eyes made everything so much worse.

“Namjoon. You’re not making sense. If I don’t think I’m pregnant, how on earth could your mother be so sure I am? What if I am Namjoon? What exactly are you going to do?” You asked, desperately trying to hold back tears.

“Y/N. Do you know what it means for you to have my child? They’ll be the next heir to Lodi. Do you know what that’s like? I’ve lived that life…How could I be so stupid? I should have taken better care of you.” He said, frustrated.

He had no right to be.

You pulled your hand away from his.

“You feel stupid?” You said, walking off to the bedroom and locking the door.

Nothing was right. You wondered how you came to having such a life.

You were supposed to graduate, get married have a child maybe and celebrate with your family and in-laws. You should have been more careful, you should have talked to him about this before.

How could he think this was stupid, as if it was some mistake? It felt like he was undermining your relationship with just a simple word.

How could his mother know anything about you? She hasn’t been in a room with you for more than half an hour. You looked into the mirror and saw no change in your skin, no indication of that glow women mentioned so happily.

Now you were frustrated and you sank down to the floor, weeping silently.

He was scared. For the first time, you saw him as a coward. His child would be loved and protected. Being an heir wasn’t the end of the world. You would protect that child from the neglect Namjoon was subjected to. That’s exactly what he had to do to, as a father. Still, a small part of you knew he was justified in being scared.

After showering you walked into the bedroom to find that he was sitting on the bed, having unlocked the door, probably with a spare key.

Immediately you grabbed the hair dryer and began drying your hair, trying to keep the silence for as long as possible.

He showered too and you made sure to be in bed already before he got out, shutting your eyes but obviously not asleep yet.

Finally going to bed, you were freaking out inside, wondering how to react if he tried to hold you again.

You heard his steps come closer and his lips planted a small kiss on his cheek. Bringing the sheets up to cover your face, he pulled them down and you met his eyes.

“I know you’re scared so I’ll take a test tomorrow. Right now I just don’t want to talk to you.” You said calmly, without even thinking and looking away.

Yes. It was the most rational thing to do, get tested. It wasn’t until then that you started to really worry. What if the test came back positive?

Really, what if it came back positive?…

You were too young, too unprepared. Maybe Namjoon was right. How could you prevent his family from interfering with your child? They have been holding back. Only now will they really do everything in their power to separate you from Namjoon.

He still didn’t say anything, frozen in place. Finally he walked out of the room and didn’t return that night.

~ “Y/N…” He called lovingly.

“Hmm?” You said, opening your eyes and seeing him at the door.

“Oh you were napping. I’ll get him, don’t worry.” He said closing the door.

You looked around the empty room, finally taking notice of the faint crying in the near distance.

Your heartbeat slowed and time seemed to stop altogether.

“Namjoon.” You called, quickly sitting up and putting on your slippers.

The crying worsened and your heart ached.

“My baby.” You gasped, trying to stand up.

“Y/N!” Namjoon yelled in panic.

Whatever was holding you back was gone now, and you were practically flung straight to the bedroom door. When you opened it, the sunshine blinded your eyes and it took a few seconds for them to adjust.

Namjoon faced a huge window, holding the child, the crib in front of him. He looked back and smiled, no sign of horror on his face like his yell suggested. The child was still out of your view, in his arms and silent.

“Stop worrying about him. Go back to sleep.” Namjoon said quietly.

“You called for me.” You said confused, staring at his arms and hoping he’d turn just enough to let you see the child.

“I didn’t. See? You’re exhausted, now go.” He said facing the window again.

You touched your head and walked back to the bedroom. As soon as the door shut, the crying resumed. Trusting in Namjoon, you got back into bed.

“Y/N!” He called again, voice in more despair than before.

Each time you opened the door, everything was fine. Namjoon was smiling back at you, rocking the baby back and forth in his arms.

Every time that door shut, the crying resumed and Namjoon called for you again, pure agony in his voice getting unbelievably worse, as if he was hurt or maybe the child was until finally, you opened the door one more time to find them gone.

~ Your eyes burst opened and a strong wave of nausea hit you. You ran to the bathroom and threw up, crying as you remembered the horrible nightmare.

___

“Tomorrow we’ll have the results. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

Namjoon thanked the doctor and took your hand on the way out, knowing you wouldn’t make a scene and pull away.

When you got to the car however, you pulled your hand out of his grasp and sat away from him. At the same time you wanted him to hold you and promise that everything was going to be fine, no matter what the results show.

“You haven’t eaten. Please eat Y/N.” He said pushing your plate closer to you.

You could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was thinking about the baby.

You wanted to cry right there, or scream, who knows. In his mind, no confirmation was needed; you were pregnant. Now he wanted to worry about your health, for the sake of the baby?

“I have to go to work now.” You said, emotionless.

He ran hand through his hair and sighed. “All right. Go.” A hint of anger in his voice. If you had stayed there a moment longer you would have burst out into tears and embarrassed yourself. The fact that you weren’t already on the floor in a puddle of tears was astonishing. You didn’t even have the guts to tell him that you threw up that morning.

“Take me to his grandfather.” You told the driver.

After half an hour, you received a call from Namjoon undoubtedly wondering where you were going since you hadn’t arrived at Lodi. Maybe Donny called him to ask about you.

Ignoring his call, you prepared yourself mentally and hoped for the best. This was more nerve wrecking than meeting his father. The man you were about to meet now held all the power, made the important decisions and never met his grandson’s wife before.

The hospital looked nothing like a hospital. In fact, it looked like a resort of some sort. The was even a driveway in which the driver pulled up and let you out.

A young woman at the front desk asked for you identification and immediately ran off only to return with a glass of water.

“Here you go Mrs. Kim. Please, right this way. You can sit here while I tell Mr. Kim Senior that you’ve arrived.” She said nervously, leading you to an open lobby with an open view of the mountains behind the resort.

Fifteen minutes there passed by quickly. The young woman took the glass from your hands and led you to his room, or suite actually.

“Let me know if you need anything else sir.” The young woman said before taking her leave.

“Thank you. Please come in. Sorry for my appearance.” He said getting up from his hospital bed and using his cane to walk over to you. He extended his hand out and you shook the weak bony hand delicately.

“I’m Y/N, Namjoon’s wife.”

“I know who you are. I was wondering when he would bring you but I guess something’s wrong considering you are here alone.” He said, taking a seat at the coffee table.

You sat down and helped him pour his tea.

“Why are you here alone?” You said, full of questions.

He was so weak but alive at the same time.

“I don’t want them to come see me. I’ll just get angry and my condition will worsen. All they do is fight. I’m guessing you know all about this already.” He laughed.

“Namjoon and I are not on the best terms right now.” You confessed.

“I’m also guessing my son and his wife don’t like you very much either, considering you didn’t go to them for help.” He said.

You nodded. “They think I’m using Namjoon.”

“I must admit, I had my suspicions too. Namjoon got married out of the blue really. He’s not stupid though. I can tell you’re not here for money.”

“I’m not here for money.” You assured him. “I just didn’t know who else to talk to.”

“You can trust me. There’s not much time for me anyways.” He said, smiling at you.

You did trust him, because Namjoon did too. So easy it was, to see how gentle and wise this man was.

“He thinks I’m pregnant.” You said, letting some tears escape but holding it together quickly.

“Why isn’t he thrilled? If you are, that would be a very pleasant surprise for me.” He said comfortingly.

“He’s scared. He doesn’t want to raise a child who’s only fate is being the next heir to Lodi.” You explained.

“I see…” he said taking a moment to think.

“There’s nothing I can do. If I am pregnant then how can I protect my child from their only title? They will have to go through the same education, training and preparation as Namjoon had. They’ll have no say in what their life will become…” you said, suddenly relating to that last sentence more than you should have. “If I’m not pregnant then how can I protect myself from Namjoon? How can things go back to normal?”

“I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon. I’ve always been hard on him. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared. There hasn’t been a moment in his life in which he didn’t have any pressure.” He said, disappointed.

You thought about Namjoon’s cold, distant nature.

“He was traumatized. You all traumatized him.” You said gravely.

“If he came to see me then he would see that I mean no harm. I know you’re upset and hurt, but give him a chance. Right now, time is your enemy and your ally. Write this address down.” He said casually.

You blinked and took a deep breath before taking your phone out and taking down the address he told you.

“I may not have been as much help as you had hoped for but this information will help you on the future. Keep it to yourself though. Go home now. Don’t separate yourself from him anymore. If you two really love each other, you’ll see, there’s nothing to be scared of. If anything happens, you can stay here.” He assured you.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you to rest then.” You said, taking your leave and rushing out the doors.

It was a dumb idea coming here but nonetheless you felt a tiny bit better. The old man had something about him that made you believe that doing nothing was the best approach for now.

A sense of calm washed over you. Right now you just had to focus on the call you would be receiving tomorrow. Rather, you blocked out any worries for now, pushed them aside and prayed for the best. Whatever that may be.

___

“Where did you go? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He asked, flustered and agitated.

The grip on your arm was more than enough and you stumbled back. The anger and pure relief in his eyes contradicted one another.

You looked up at him calmly which only made him angrier.

“Answer me Y/N!” He yelled.

This was the loudest he’s ever been, the angriest he’s ever been. He was ready to fight, to argue, and maybe even hoping you’d finally tell him all the bad things he wanted to hear about himself.

As much as you knew that he caused you nothing but pain these past couple of days, you couldn’t hate him anymore. You’ve tried hating him, it doesn’t work. He was too much to you already.

You wrapped your other arm around his neck and began to sob. Caught off guard, his grip faltered and you wrapped that arm around him too.

He lifted you up by your thighs, and you buried your face into his neck, unable to stop crying.

Carrying you to the couch, he sat down so that you now straddled him and he rubbed your back trying to calm you down.

“Y/N…I’m sorry…just please stop crying…I can’t watch you cry anymore, the guilt is killing me. Please Y/N.” He begged, voice rough and holding back tears.

You missed him. Weird as it sounds, you really missed him. Everything’s been so horrible, you just wanted him to hold you tight.

“Tell me you love me Namjoon, please.” You managed to whisper.

“I do. I love you.” He said, letting his hands hold your waist.

You lifted your head up and looked into his eyes.

“I love you Y/N.” He said, wiping your tears away. “Don’t ever scare me like that again…I thought you left…for good.” He said, looking down.

You held his face in your hands. “Don’t be scared Namjoon…of anything. If you’re scared then I am too. There’s no point to that. I would never leave you.”

He took one of your hands and kissed it. “I’m sorry Y/N. For everything. You didn’t deserve that. I really do love you, more than anything.”

“You were an asshole, you know that?” You said, pressing your forehead against his.

He quickly kissed your lips. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you so much.” He repeated. His lips placed dozens of gentle, loving kisses on your cheek and along your jawline. “I’ll say it a million times Y/N. I love you.”

You let his words comfort you and took deep breaths. All you wanted was for all of this to mean nothing, to forget this moment in time and just live with him happily, without anything trying to tear you apart.

“What are we going to do Namjoon? What if I’m pregnant.” You asked worriedly.

“For now…we’ll act like everything’s fine. No one has to know. We’ll know for sure tomorrow if you’re really pregnant or not.” He said holding you tight, getting up and carrying you to the bedroom.

You both laid there on the bed staring into each other’s eyes, a million thoughts running through your mind and his.

What if his parents spread rumors about the pregnancy to the media?

You sighed, and he kissed your forehead.

“I’ve thought about a lot of beautiful names for her but I can’t find the right one.” He said suddenly.

Your breath hitched and it didn’t hit you until then, the possibility of having a daughter. He imagined a daughter…

“Namjoon,” You gasped, “she would have a choice.”

He already realized this, you saw from the lack of surprise in his expression. He nodded and looked down as to not meet your gaze.

“If you are pregnant, is it bad that I want a daughter and not a son?” He said, a bit ashamed.

“No. The more I think of it, the more I understand you. Our son would be an heir, no matter what he grows up wanting to be. That scares me too but it makes me more sad than anything. The things he would have to sacrifice…just like you did.”

“She would have to live a certain way too…I don’t know if I’m strong enough to make my child go through everything I had to go through. Most of all, I don’t want to see you suffer either.” He said, rubbing your arm.

His words rang loud and clear into your mind again.

I should have taken better care of you.

“Me? You’re worried about me?” You asked, in awe.

“You didn’t choose to be my wife Y/N…now you’re in this situation, and I can’t help but feel like I should let you go, allow you make your own decision. I owe you at least that.” He said seriously.

His words stung. The guilt he felt was consuming him again, enough to let you leave him if you wished.

“Namjoon don’t talk like that. This isn’t the life I imagined having but it’s worth it. It’s really is. I have you now. The thought of having a little Namjoon scares me too but…I can’t imagine having a family, with anyone other than you.”

Namjoon kissed you tenderly, holding your waist against his body. “If there is a baby inside of you, I’ll do everything to make the both of you the happiest people on earth, I promise.” He said, kissing you again.

“Just being here like this, right now. It makes me very happy.” You whispered, getting closer and inhaling his scent, dosing off unexpectedly within minutes.

_______________________________

Part 9