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loserlvrss · 2 months

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face yoon jeonghan (윤정한)

authors note // this story isn't supposed to be very heavy !! something light with an eventual happy ending c: ive been sitting with this idea for literal years, so i hope its good. a full playlist will eventually be made, but kr&b is what i listened to while writing it (along with the chapter songs i link at the beginning)

chapter theme warnings // language, angst, unplanned pregnancy, implied suicidal thoughts, topics of pregnancy & babies in general

word count // 2.3k

prologue: face: songs: 1 2 3 4

You kissed your child’s head, ruffling the short chestnut locks. Your kid’s hair was slightly different than yours—Texture wise—also lightening or darkening further in various settings. However, you only realized that because you were his mother, and it was basically your job to know everything about your son.

There was laughter and quieted screams meeting your ears; other children and childcare workers who were playing in the background as you were just finishing dropping him off.

“I’ll see you after work, Jae. I'll bring you the cupcake you like, okay?”

Jae grabbed your face with soft hands, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek and then bringing you into a hug. You stood up and watched as he skipped off, joining a group who he’s expressed (with the confirmation of the childcare workers) are his best friends.

You were always beyond proud of your son for being able to spread so much love to the world, despite not having the smoothest upbringing—or frankly, an example of unconditional love (despite yours for him). You wanted to feel proud of yourself, but knew that it was all Jae’s interpretation of the world around him. He loved everyone and everything; in the purest form, he found beauty. He was the best kid you’ve ever met, but maybe you were just biased.

“He’s truly a beautiful kid, looks just like you.” You met eyes with the woman who worked the sign-in and out desk. “Laughs and smiles all the time; Gets along with everyone… Even the kids that people don’t seem to gravitate towards. He hates to see them left out. Good job with him, miss y/n.”

“Thank you.” You replied, forcing a smile to surface. You couldn’t help the bittersweet feeling that left a lump in your throat. You knew exactly why it always bothered you though; he looks just like you. But nobody knew he looked almost uncanny to his father at this age. He didn’t have your eyes, nor mouth, nor cheekbones. All Jae had, in your eyes, was part of your personality and nose.

You tried time and time again, staring at your son as he’d nap, to find what people would point-out. But you never did, and that seemed to bother you more than you’d like to admit. So, what should’ve been a compliment was always hard for you to swallow.

“I’ll see you at five-thirty!”

She nodded behind the desk. “He’ll be all ready for you.”

You let the door swing behind you, a slight shake to your hands as you found your keys. It was beginning to look and feel like spring, and soon the cherry blossoms would bloom, meaning you’d have your annual outing with Jae to see them before they fell. You’d take a day off work and keep him home from preschool, taking him out for lunch and ice cream, letting him play at the nearby park after until his little heart's contempt.

You loved that day, and you looked forward to it all year round. It was peace of mind, and there seemed like little responsibility when it was just you two enjoying life.

The days seemed to pass slowly nowadays, and maybe that was because now that you were getting older, you were repeating the same routine like clockwork. It was a never-ending Groundhog’s Day, where you could only hope to find the escape to the time-loop.

The car came to a stop, and you put it in park quickly after. Your head fell atop your chilled hands that gripped the steering wheel still. You let out a sigh, a breath that forever seemed to be stuck in your lungs. As you collected yourself, you also collected your purse from the passenger seat, taking your keys and clenching them tightly.

The beep of a car locking was familiar to you as it met your ears, causing you to turn and look. Meeting your sights was the black vehicle that belonged to your coworker, as well as said person, who hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Wonwoo?” You asked, slightly confused as to why he was scheduled at the same time as you on a Monday, rather than a Friday or Wednesday; like usual, however, your shifts overlapped quite often.

His sharp, cat-like features were on full display, glasses within his forefinger and thumb as he cleaned the lenses. He was wearing dark-washed, wide leg jeans, and a white T-shirt—One that looked as if he had bought it recently—His hair was falling effortlessly, only moving slightly with the gentle gusts of wind.

You always thought he looked like the lead of a drama, a sought after actor that attended fashion shows and got awards, not someone who worked at a bakery, like you.

You had started working before him, right after you had dropped out of Seoul University, 7 weeks into your pregnancy with Jae. You were a confused, hormonal, soon-to-be mother who had no one to rely on. But you always thought that Wonwoo deserved more than what he was left with, and sometimes you regretted not being that comfort for him, as he always was for you.

He’d run to the convenience store, mid-shift, just because you kept talking about triangle kimbap or a watermelon bar. He’d cover for you when you’d get ill and run to the bathroom with a hand slapped over your face. And when your due date got closer, he’d walk you to your car just to help you get in comfortably.

You two weren’t even far off in age, and maybe that’s why you knew deep down it was because he pitied your circumstance: Single, pregnant, and borderline suicidal. All your plans had been thrown out like trash the moment you took the test, the moment you fought with your ex, breaking up after 4 years together.

Every single promise for a better life—A happy life—Was washed away with the rain. And even if you weren’t technically alone, you felt as if the world had shut you out. Now it’s been 4 years, and you’ve gotten used to the feeling of uncertainty. You lived for Jae, and that always should’ve been enough. However, you felt guilty for thinking of a time when he didn’t exist, when he wasn’t even a thought in the back of your mind. If you could go back in time, you were sure you wouldn’t change anything, because Jae was your lifeline, the one thing in this world that kept you going. But, the tears that streamed down your face on particularly painful nights told a different side to you, one that mirrored the 22 year old who got shattered and left to become nothing but dust.

You couldn’t help but think that life would’ve been easier if you were prepared for it. If you had Jae when you were 26 or 27 like you had planned on. If you had finished your business degree and opened your own company with your boyfriend. Life would’ve been smooth sailing. But instead, you were left with barely enough money to keep the lights on, and many cupcakes to keep a smile on your son’s face after long shifts.

“Are you okay?” The voice broke you from the painful thoughts that plagued your subconscious. “Y/n? Is it Jae, is he okay?”

You nodded in an unconstant pattern, slowly moving your head up to level your eyes. Your eyebrows creased slightly, but that was only because you were having a hard time pushing your mind in the right direction.

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Are you?” He approached you as you leaned against the driver’s door. “Did something happen?”

His concern would’ve seemed out of character if you didn’t know him, but turned down lips and straight faces were only surface level. He might’ve looked cold, but you’ve never met anyone warmer.

“Just tired, that’s all.” You replied, crossing your arms. Your bag hung against your front and you wondered the time. You weren’t running late after dropping Jae off, but even if you were, your manager for the night was standing in front of you—And, Wonwoo would never write you up. “Been thinking a lot recently… Well, we should go in and help Minjoon before she scolds us.”

He laughed. “She is a terrifying highschooler.”

“Scariest I've ever met.” You mimicked a shiver, pushing off the metal and awaiting Wonwoo to join you. “I can already see her glare.”

He did promptly, holding the glass door open for you. You brushed past him, viewing the many people lined up and a seething highschool girl at the register; Whether it was because you were technically 3 minutes late or because of a customer was up for interpretation.

You apologized silently as you made eye-contact with the girl, walking around the open corner of the front desk and to the back to put your stuff away. There were various lockers, each having a name for the employees of the bakery—Not that there were that many to begin with.

You opened the one with your whiteboard-markered name, and put your purse on the shelf. Inside there was a picture of you and Jae as well as an old note from Minjoon that read I hope all is well, but I'm going to kill you, because you were late, much like today. However that day it was because Jae was sick and whining about everything; His babysitter had given him the flu earlier that week.

Of course though, Wonwoo covered for you when you called in tears. And after he even brought some food to your apartment, which was across town from his own, and let you vent in your dimly-lit kitchen until way too late. He even took your shift when you caught the virus from your son sneezing in your face.

You sighed again, shutting the door closed with the quiet bang of metal on metal. Your hand clutched where your heart would be if it wasn’t scared out of your chest.

On the other side was Minjoon, who was leisurely propped against her own locker. “You two came in together. You’re both late… Together?”

She eyed you as you tried to explain, “We met in the parking lot.” And even though it was the truth, she made you feel as if it wasn’t. Her arms were crossed, looking awfully like your mother would have if she was still around. “We just walked in together, don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Oh, why would I?” She voiced, nose turned to the ceiling. “It definitely wouldn’t be because you two are always together, and Wonwoo would do literally anything for you. No, that would be ridiculous to think.” You deadpanned, knowing it was true, but a misunderstanding. You didn’t like Wonwoo, you don’t see how you could, considering your situation. “If I didn’t know you two I would think Jae was his.”

Your heart sank, and maybe it was the insinuation of people making assumptions that hurt you. Did Jae need a father to be valid in other people’s eyes? That’s probably not what she meant, but nonetheless it’s where your head went.

“It’s not a bad thing, but if you two start dating, please don’t let me catch you guys making out in here. I’d have to bill you for therapy, and then quit.”

You mimicked her lean. “God forbid you don’t have any money to buy albums. What would you do without your Jungkook photocards?”

“Die.” She replied simply. “I’d die.”

Before you had a chance to call her dramatic, Wonwoo popped through the door.

“Could you guys help me? It’s about to be time for our morning rush.”

You jumped off the locker, hustling out the door to assist your manager with the heaps of business men and women on their commute to work, or influencers looking for a pretty picture. You rarely had the in between, but sometimes on a blue moon, you’d get the random straggler who just wanted a sweet treat.

“I rest my case!” You heard being shouted as you let the door close behind you. “It would just be a crazy thought, wouldn’t it!”

You met his side, taking the filled cup from his hand and putting a lid on it. “Sorry.” You took over the last of the three drinks, thankful it was simply just a black coffee.

“Gonna have to start writing you up for being so distracting, y/n.” He joked, grabbing a croissant and placing it within a brown wax bag. You smiled apologetically. “I’ll go do the register.”

“Are you sure? I could get Minjoon to do it again.”

You nodded, placing a comforting hand against his arm. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it, it’ll distract me from my thoughts.”

Wonwoo reluctantly agreed, because he may technically be your boss but you rarely listened to him, and he knew it was no use arguing if it was only going to lead to you doing it anyway. You appreciated his sentiment, and his eagerness to make sure you were comfortable, however it was almost always at his or someone else’s expense.

You were an adult—A big girl—Who should be able to handle a little bit of stress. But maybe Wonwoo knew you were just a ticking time-bomb, awaiting that last second before you exploded. He seemingly knew you well enough after four years. Everything might’ve been getting a little too much recently, and yes, maybe you felt lost sometimes, but you, in reality, had no will to give up. Not when it was Jae at risk—He already didn’t have a father, why would you leave him motherless as well? He was just as big a priority to you a little over 4 years ago, as he is today. You’d sacrifice everything for your child. And, truthfully, you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

tag list: @yyangj3lly | send an ask to be added! masterlist next part

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || ch. III

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,375

Warnings: 8-year age gap, big flashback of bromance between Tae and JK, slight drunkenness, family drama in-laws, imperfect relationship with parents, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, needy kook 😶

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: chapter 3 is here! I know its so short 😩 but I promise it sets up the next chapters really well! Also, I wanted to get into jk's background a little this time, his undergrad days, and Taehyung of course. It's a big leap but they're older now so...meh. Tysm for everyone's patience! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

There weren’t many people Jungkook envied in his life. He was 34 years old, had top-notch experience as an economist within the business and legal sphere, and taught at one of the finest universities in South Korea. He also earned his Ph.D by the time he hit 30, which was undoubtedly the cherry on top.

But if there was one person who could shake the ground from under his feet it would be Kim Taehyung.

The pair met during undergrad through mutual friends. Jungkook had been invited to an off-campus party his first year and Taehyung was an unexpected third party. The man was so put together that it was as if Michelangelo himself reached down and sculpted him from the clay.

16 years ago

“Hi,” a low, baritone voice rumbles. “I’m Taehyung.” He sticks his hand out, waiting for a shake. He’s a little timid but mostly stands upright with a few pieces of his caramel hair falling over his eyes.

Jungkook chuckles at Taehyung’s stark formality. “What’s up, man!” He slaps Taehyung’s hand casually. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung reeks of sophistication and has the most annoyingly gorgeous face. His boxy grin could charm the pants off anyone who was two feet from him. Hell, even Jungkook feels a little starstruck by him.

Though barely acquaintances, it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to realize they are on opposite ends of the same stick.

Taehyung comes from a wealthy upper-class family. They have four mansions plus a beach house. Every Christmas, he goes to Italy to visit his aunt and uncle. For his 18th birthday, Taehyung got a brand-new Corvette, red with black rims. Everyone wants to be him…everyone wants a piece of Kim Taehyung.

But underneath the surface of his flashy lifestyle is something oddly endearing. Jungkook can’t quite put his finger on it but as the night goes on, he enjoys the man’s company. Taehyung seems to latch onto him as well which shocks both of them to the core.

“Seriously hyung,” Jungkook slurrs. “I don’t know why you’re hanging around me this whole night when you could be getting off with one of the fifty girls who’ve come up to you. Are you playing it cool are you really a loner or something?”

Taehyung snatches the beer bottle from the younger’s hand. “That’s enough drinking for one night Jungkook. You’re about to pass out, I can tell.”

“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.” Jungkook grabs the bottle back, taking a big slug before wiping his mouth off with his arm. “Something to know about me Taetae. I live by the work hard, play hard kinda philosophy.”

Taehyung cringes at the pet name but chalks it up to Jungkook being off his rocker. “That’s the type of philosophy that’s gotten my family to spend millions on useless crap. It’s fun for a while but it never lasts. I don’t recommend it Jungkook.”

Jungkook snorts. “So you are a loner huh? Because my parents have been stuck in the same loop for years. All work, no play. It’s caused them both to lose every hair on their head. Do you wanna lose your hair by the time you’re 45 Tae? I wouldn’t think so with those luscious locks of yours. Bet some chick would love to yank on them while–”

“I’m not a loner.” Taehyung interrupts, feeling a surge of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. He knows the looks people shot at him and while he didn’t entirely hate it, it always took more than it gave. All he wanted in those moments was to retreat into himself with his paints. Taehyung loved art and like many, found it therapeutic. “I’m not a loner,” he repeats. “I’m just not interested.”

“Sure you’re not buddy.” Jungkook gives a nod but remains largely unconvinced. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why you hanging around me? I’m not that cool ‘cause if I weren’t here, I’d be at the library right now with my nose in the books. Economics doesn’t slap all the time you know.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment before answering.

“I feel like a normal person with you," he starts. "Everyone looks at me like I’m some spoiled golden boy who they can get a free ticket of off if they talk sweet. And yeah, I’m aware of the advantages I’ve had…the struggles most people have that I don’t. But I’m still a real person that wants what most people do...purpose, belonging, someone that just gets them.”

Taehyung takes a breath before continuing.

"I really fucking love painting. It’s my heartbeat honest to god and I’m tired of being looked at as merely an object of someone’s unfulfilled wishes and desires. I like that I don’t need to worry about that with you. I think...we come from different backgrounds but we’re cut from the same cloth Jungkookie. Oh, are you-are you crying?”

“Fucking beautiful Taetae. You’re straight out of Vanity Fair you know that? I’m more of a Forbes magazine guy myself though.”

Taehyung throws Jungkook a puzzled look. Is he being condescending or is this just the booze talking?

“‘Cause I’m a small-town boy with great ambition, intelligence, and gall? We covered this earlier man, keep up!” Jungkook emphasizes his words, hands flying about.

“Right,” Taehyung joins in, recalling the conversation. “You’re father is an analyst for the city and your mom’s an accountant. They want you to get a job nearby after graduation but you don’t want to because–“

“Because it’s too small, boring, set in its traditional ways, and I for one am not fucking with it.” Jungkook sends Taehyung a lopsided grin. “You got a pretty good memory man. Maybe we can be friends after all.”

“I’m so glad,” Taehyung drawls, a slight trace of sarcasm. Jungkook doesn’t notice, however, too busy staring at the strobe lights dancing across the ceiling.

“Hey!” he suddenly pipes up, eyes wider than before. "What are you doing next Friday?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Why?”

“I got this boring family reunion to go to. Happens every year. I don’t wanna go but my parents force me to. You wanna come?”

Taehyung hesitates. “A family reunion? I know I said we’re cut from the same cloth, but we’re not…related Jungkook.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll ask my parents if I can bring a friend. They won’t give a shit as long as I’m there. Also, I heard from my brother that Ha-Yun’s gonna be there.”

“And Ha-Yun is…?”

“Some girl that my parents want to set me up with. Family friend’s daughter. I went to high school with her.”

“So you think that if I’m there I can be your right-hand man or something? Make you look good in front of your future wife?”

“Fuck no. I’m hoping she’ll go to you instead.” Jungkook laughs when he sees the color draining from Taehyung’s face. “It’s nothing against her bro. She isn’t weird or anything. I say this lightly but, I just don’t wanna go out with her and she’s not my type.”

“I’ll think about clearing my schedule for this but I’m not being your meat on a stick,” Taehyung seethes. “But since we’re on this topic, what is your type?”

“Mm, not sure.” Jungkook shrugs. “Someone who’s unexpecting I guess. Like you shouldn’t be together because it's outside of the usual. But you can’t help it. You gotta have this person or it’s over. What about you?”

“Easy,” Taehyung mutters. “I like artists.”

“Artists huh? Like you? Well, I guess I can understand.” Jungkook smirks before leaning his head back against the couch. “One day, I’ll find an artist for you Tae. I promise.”

Oh, the irony.

present

“Jungkook, stop! I need to get up.” You struggle in his arms, biting back a grin. Jungkook has you in a locked position. His hard chest presses close against your back and his leg hugs your body.

“Mm,” he groans. “It’s not time yet.”

“Yes, it is. Also, you’re nearly suffocating me.”You wiggle your body but to no avail. Your husband always tends to get needier as the school year approaches.

"I just don't want you out of my arms yet. Is that a crime now?"

No. No it's not, you sigh to yourself. By this time next week, you’ll be waking up to an empty bed. "Okay." You glance at the alarm clock. "Ten minutes and then I really need to get ready for work."

"Fifteen," Jungkook mumbles.

"Twelve."

"Thirteen."

"No. It's twelve or I'm going now." Jungkook gives a cute grunt and tightens his grip. He really doesn't want you to leave this morning.

"Fine," he says. "Twelve. But we're snuggling again tonight."

"Jungkook. Can't. Breathe." Being spooned by your husband is nice but this isn't spooning anymore. He's completely cacooning himself over you. As soon you feel him shift his weight off you, hand loosening from your waist, your ribs hum in relief.

After what seems like three minutes of complete silence you decide to bite the bullet and ask the question that's been on your mind for the last couple of days.

"Um Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"When we went to get ice cream the other night. There was something that happened...to you." You're uneasy bringing it up but you can't shake your concern. When Jungkook saw the little girl with her dad, he went into a bit of a trance. He didn't talk, didn't move, and was pretty numb to your presence all together.

"Oh god," Jungkook groans. "I was hoping you didn't notice but you're my wife so I guess it's fine."

Crap. Was this a sore subject for him? You twist your head over your shoulder, just enough for your ear to be near his lips. You're in high alert now. "Why weren't you hoping I noticed?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's embarrassing." Jungkook smacks his lips before continuing. "But do we really have to talk about it? Spilling ice cream on my shirt at 34 isn't something I really wanna relive through early morning conversations."

Oh he thinks....of course he thinks that's what you're refering to.

"I'm not talking about you being clumsy Jungkook. I'm talking about the little girl with the ribbons. When she was with her dad, you kinda went a little frozen."

Jungkook doesn't reply immediately so you prod him a little. "I just wanna know if everything was alright. I suppose with our current situation I get it if it hit you in a sort of way. Good or bad, whatever the feeling was, you can tell–"

"They seemed happy is all," he croaks, voice dropping an octave. "The kind of happy that makes someone's entire soul stop, I guess. Like they had something special that no one else could. Does that make sense?"

If you look down you think you'll see goosebumps. The words coming from your husband's mouth are, at most, mumbles but they aren't coming from a place of unease or hesitation. Instead they allude to something warm, wholesome, and new.

"Yeah of course, it makes perfect sense. I had a similar experience when I met Si-woo. The way his face light up when he saw his mom comforted me but I felt envious too. Is that wrong of me?"

"Not at all. I think it's a natural response when you see something you want but don't currently have. You know, there was one thing that popped in my thoughts while I watched that father and his daughter..."

"Hm?"

"I thought, maybe I'll be happy too. If we actually have a kid, we'll be happy together like them or something." Yawning, he continues. "I dunno, honey. Kinda sleepy still so if I fall asleep I love you and I hope work goes well. But we can keep talking if you want."

You untuck your hand from under your head and close it over your husband's arm; the one draped around your waist.

Hope. Real hope.

"Dammit why won't you open?!" Jungkook bangs the jar on the side of the kitchen counter. He's been trying to get it open for the last five minutes. With you at work, it's his turn to prepare dinner.

"Take a breath kid," Yoongi says from the other line of the phone.

Jungkook ignores him of course, continuing beat the shit out of the jar in his hand. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. You stupid jar!"

"Kid!" Yoongi tries again, this time grumbling. "Stop doing that and go get a butter knife or something to hit the side of the lid with. It'll pop right off and I won't sue you for making me go deaf."

"Hyung–"

"Oh I thought you didn't call anyone that anymore. Now that you're a real boy and all. With big boy things." Jungkook shakes his head, hearing the older man snort through the speaker.

"You been talking to Taehyung?" That big mouth, he's become as bad as Jimin. What happened to the more reserved Tae he met in undergrad. He likes him better than this new, cocky mf.

"He may have slipped out a thing or two. But I'm glad to see you're still scared shitless of me that you'll keep calling me hyung."

Jungkook slams the jar on the counter, having enough. "Why the fuck did you call hyung? Can't you tell I'm a little busy right now."

Yoongi chuckles. "Alright I'll stop picking on you. I need a favor. The wife and I want to go out just the two of this weekend. I know you got your professor duties starting but would you and __ be willing to look after our gremlins for a couple hours Saturday?"

"Uh–I'm gonna have to talk to __ about this but maybe?" You and him have babysat for Yoongi's twins a handful of times before. They get a little rowdy but it's been mostly fine. Jungkook's not sure if either of you have the energy or time this weekend though. "I thought you usually got a babysitter."

"Yeah, usually but they're unable to this weekend. I'm hoping this time the babysitter will be you and __. We won't be long but we'd really appreciate it if you guys could do this for us. Could you maybe let me know by Thursday if you can?" Yoongi waits for an answer.

"Yeah alright," Jungkook finally responds. "I'll talk to __ about it when she gets home. No promises though." Jungkook wipes the sweat from his brow. It was a little hot in the kitchen. "Listen Yoongi, I gotta get back to prepping dinner but thanks for that tip about opening the–"

"Jungkook! Hello?" A familiar but muffled voice hollers from the front door. "Are you home?" The door bell is pressed continually without rest.

"Uh my ears," Yoongi pipes. "Who the hell is at your door?"

Jungkook walks towards the front of the house, peaking out the window. What the fuck are those two doing here? "Damn it, I gotta go hyung. My parents have decided to pay an unexpected visit." Before Yoongi has time to reply, Jungkook ends the call.

fuckfuckfuckfuck, he repeats under his breath. Could they not have called beforehand? It's a friggen' ten hour drive. Did someone die or something? Why are they here?

"We can hear you Kookie," Jungkook's mother coos in a sing-songy tone. "No one died. We just wanted to see you and __."

Jungkook opens the front door, not even caring if his face shows he's pissed off. "Mother it'd be nicer if you, I don't know. Planned these things?!"

"I told you," Jungkook's father grippes. "I told you woman, didn't I? We should have called. You never listen to me!"

"Oh shut up you goat," Jungkook's mother pushes her way through the door and into the house. "My son loves me and he's happy to see me." She wraps her arms around Jungkook's waist and presses her cheek against his arm.

"Yeah," his father steps in the house. "He's just jumping with joy with that silly apron on. C'mon, he was obviously in the middle of something. Ugh I'm sorry son. Your mother is, well, you know how she is." He slips out of his shoes and shuffles to the kitchen. "Whatcha cooking anyway? Something good I bet."

Jungkook rubs his face in agitation. __ is not gonna like coming home to his parents running around the house.

"You're not mad at me are you?" His mother lifts her chin, big doe eyes just like his own. "We just missed you and we figured you'll be busy with teaching soon so...we just decided to drive down last night."

Trying to smile, Jungkook brings his arm around her. "No, no I'm not mad. I'm glad to see you and __ will be too."

"Jungkook, why the hell are your parents here?" You force yourself to keep a low voice. Your in-laws were steps away and they had the sharpest pair of ears you knew. You didn't want them to hear a single beat.

Your husband pulls at his hair, pacing small circles around the bedroom. "Trust me, I didn't invite them. They just showed up. I don't even know why they're here besides they just wanted to. I'm really sorry."

You yank your silk blouse over your head, tossing it in the hamper. "I love your parents but you're gonna need to tell them this can't be happening." You change into a basic t-shirt and jeans. "I know they're probably a little lonely with you and your brother so far away but I'd be a far better host with some pre-warnings."

"I know. Mom's just so-" Jungkook pauses, scratching his head. "Persistant...and dad will do whatever she wants."

"Look I get it. Saying no is hard when they just want to see us. But what if we had something going on tonight?"

"You're right, you're right," he sighs. "I'll try bringing it up to them."

"Anything else new happen while I was gone?" You mean it as a joke. You really do. Jungkook gives you a look that says yes though. Excellent.

"Well, uh...Yoongi hyung asked if we could babysit Saturday. Him and the Mrs want to go out but thier regular babysitter isn't available that night."

Groaning, your shoulders slope down. "Wha–uh at this rate why the hell not? I was just looking for more things to do."

"Honey," Jungkook makes his way over to you. "We don't have to if–"

"You guys still in there?!" Jungkook's mother intrudes, pounding on the door. "You better not be having coitus! Though grandchildren would be nice if that were to ever be in the cards."

"Coitus?" You mouth silently. Jungkook's parents were a little old fashioned sure but who the heck still says coitus?

"We'll be out in a second. Can you and dad set the table?" Jungkook responds, girmacing at his mothers word choice.

"Okay but wrap it up in there. I'm only here for two days. I wanna see my beautiful daughter in-law!"

You and Jungkook immediately exchange a slack-jawed expression. "What?" With the door thrown open, your husband's eyeborws furrow. "Mom you can't be serious."

"Oh don't look so worried!" The older woman lets out a restrained chuckle. "We're not gonna stay in the house with you or anything. We got a hotel. But ten hours is a long drive and I really wanted to see you. Your father and I don't hear from you often and you didn't come to the last family reunion. What do you expect us to do? Just not see our son?"

"Please don't say it like that Mom," Jungkook combs his fingers through his hair, teeth grinding together. "You know that __ and I are–"

"Always happy to see you!" You rush next to your husband who's startled by your sudden change in demeanor. "Jungkook's just been a little anxious about returning to the university. But we'd love to spend a couple to days with you and dad. Let's start with dinner!"

You usher everyone down the hall and towards the dining room. Jungkook's mother is filled to the brim with joy while your husband slightly, actually very, concerned.

A/N: Apologies for any editing errors! Also close to adding some spicy stuff but we gonna wait on that a little longer 😉 Lmk what you think and if you wanna join taglist comment or send an ask. Thanks!! 😙💗

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @jiminshi20

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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cumulo-stratus · 10 months

Text

Love Like a Fathers

Request: Hello, hope you're having a good day/night, I was wondering if I could request Spencer x Father figure reader, theyre On a case the unsub tries to kill Spencer but reader protects him and gets hurt himself.

Pairing: platonic!Spencer reid x Father figure!reader

Summary: Y/n gets hurt protecting Spencer from an unsub, and y/n and spencer spend some time together at the hospital

warnings: cannon typical violence, gunshot wounds/blood, swearing, s1 spencer being an adorable little cutie-pie <3

A/N: Friend I'm so so so sry this has been a WIP for like month😭- I've had like no motivation to write :( thank you for the patience and for the lovely request, and although ive never written platonic for spencer, i did my best! btw the lovely dividers are by @cafekitsune (not proof read)

1.3k

Spencer Reid and Y/n L/n weren’t related by blood, but if you asked anyone that knew them- they would tell you that it doesnt matter. y/n treated spencer like the son he never had, and spencer treated y/n like the father he lost. Even if you didn’t know them, you could tell the pair were close. Spencers intellect bounced well of y/n’s wisdom. Hotch knew this, and often paired spencer with y/n because of it. And when they got called to a case in the small town of Trutney, Alabama, it was no different.

As soon as the plane landed l/n and reid had been paired off to go to the M.E.’s to look at the one body they had so far. And so the next 2 days went by as uneventfully as they could go on a case with the BAU. Interviews, and case files - take out around a conference table and calls to garcia- just a regular BAU case. Until the last day when they were sure they had the right guy; Daniel Wilson, he fit the profile perfectly. And so the team was spilt into 2 groups; one going to the house and one going to the workplace. Hotch sent y/n and spencer to the back knowing y/n would have spencers back if anything happened.

As they crept through the long hallways silently the pair would share glances every now and then. When they reached a split Y/n made a silent flick of his wrist ordering spencer to take the path to the right while y/n would take the path to the left. Y/n stalked down the hall with his gun raised leaving Spencer to do the same with the other hallway.

Y/n was clearing the final room at the end of the hall when the distant sound of grunting and a gun shot. Without another though y/n raced down the hall toward the continuous grunting yelping. Y/n just barely remembered to call for back up as he ran- Morgan's voice sounding through the phones speakers.

"What's up L/n-"

He was interrupted by y/n's out breath voice.

"I heard a shot from Reid's side of the house I need backup"

Before Morgan could respond y/n hung up, stuffing the phone in his back pocket. When y/n reached the source of the sounds, he found a door slightly ajar. He pushed it open all the way to find Spencer on the loop ground with the unsub above him. They were pushing against eachother trying sway the barrel of the gun in their favor. Spencer was trying to push the barrel away from his head while the unsub did the opposite. Without hesitation y/n crossed the room and grabbed the unsub roughly by his shoulders throwing him away from spencer. Spencer took no time at all the scramble away, his feet sliding as he fumbled to push himself away. Meanwhile y/n and the unsigned were in a struggle for the gun. And almost as if in slow mo, spencer saw a bullet leave the barrel and enter y/ns shoulder- right where his neck met his shoulders. The resounding bang that came with it caused spencers ears to ring. but caused everything to come back to normal speed was the second gunshot, from y/n to the unsubs chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding out.

“Spencer! spencer i need you to put pressure on the wound- okay?”

Despite the many filed first aid books he’d read, spencer couldnt recall a single bit of information- and was only listening y/n’s instructions.

“alright now use my sweater- ya its right over there. We need something to stop the bleeding-“

Y/n interrupted himself with small grunts and grimaces every time his shoulder moved. But luckily spencer was in it enough to properly use the sweater y/n had provided.

At this point spencers hands were soaked in blood, and so was the sweater. It was warm, and sticky- drying and cracking on the back of his hands. Just then Morgan came storming in, a mix of swat and paramedics trailing behind him. A paramedic took the sweater from spencer’s hands and he was pulled away by Morgan to checked out- despite his protests. spencer was quite insistent he stay with y/n but Morgan settled him enough to get checked out by telling him that he would be updated if anything happened.

Spencer stood in front of the open doors of an ambulance- restlessly wringing his hands together while an EMT patched the small gash on his forehead. Spencer had resisted saying anything about how he thought it was unnecessary- as it wasn’t even bleeding that much. But spencer knew better than to argue with Morgan at this point.

Spencer practically ran- which he didn’t do very often- to the nearest large black SUV. As he walked/ran across the lawn he called out to morgan.

“St. Mary’s right?”

“on 32nd street-“

spencer didnt allow morgan to finish- instead climbing into one of the FBI vehicles littering the street.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital burned spencers retinas as spoke the woman at the desk.

“excuse me where is Y/n L/n’s room?’

as he spoke, spencer drummed his fingers against the desk- anxious to see y/n. Make sure he was okay.

“Down the hall and to your left, room 328 sir”

Spencer barely managed a curt thank you and nod before he was speed walking down the hall. the lights in the hospital clashed with the stark white of the hall when spencer entered. They were dimmed to be only slightly brighter than the dark sky through the glass. spencer found y/n asleep soundly with a large bandage across his shoulder and butterfly bandages littering his exposed chest and face. Spencer could feel some of the weight lift off his shoulders when his eyes met y/ns closed ones.

----

Despite the dim light it still took effort for y/n keep his eyes open once he woke up. The first thing he noticed was sleeping form of Spencer draped over an uncomfortable looking chair. His back and neck were bent forward in what looked to be a not very comfortable position to sleep in.

Spencer stirred when y/n grunted quietly from the pain of sitting himself up. Spencer immediately rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to help y/n, and as always y/n tried to tell Spencer he was fine and didn't need help. But y/n always made an exception for Spencer- especially he insisted with his innocent honey brown eyes.

"Spence I'm fine bud- come sit with me"

Y/n had a smile on his face and patted the spot next to him which he had now made by scooching over. Spencer shyly climbed up next y/n, his slacks and blazer looking out of place to the hospital gown y/n was wearing.

"You know you really scared me back there-"

Spencer was staring at his hands as he spoke- remembering the blood that had once coated them. Y/n took the opportunity to place a comforting comforting hand on Spencer's back, rubbing back and forth the way y/ns own family did.

"I know- but you can't rid of me that easily bud"

They both laughed lightly at that and instead of responding verbally Spencer leaned his head on y/ns shoulder, appreciating the warmth of y/ns excess internal heat. Spencer was often the one to take advantage of the human heater of a person y/n was. And this was one of those moments.

No more words were needed for the rest of the evening. They weren't needed for anything- the team could handle it (and it helped that Hotch knew how stressed Spencer was and let him know he could stay at the hospital with y/n).

And there; in the dimly lit hospital room, that smelled of disinfectant, Spencer felt more comforted than in his own home.

The End

Pls leave a like and a reblog!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #bau #cute #bau team #fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x father figure! Reader #Platonic spencer #S1 Spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request #Request #requests open

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stevie-petey · 5 months

Note

ive been feeling a little stug deprived but i cannot for the life of me think of a blurb idea so,, hit me with a blurb you've been wishing to write about stug :3

anon u also stumped me like i KNOW i have blurbs ive been dying to be asked about but suddenly my mind is blank ,,,, pls take this silly thing my brain managed to concoct

enjoy !

"one more loop around the block before i take you home?" steves voice rasps out, husky from lack of use. neither of you have spoke much as he drives the two of you around hawkins. its been at least an hour now; music plays softly throughout the car and the windows are rolled down to let in the early june nights cool breeze.

you lean your head against the passenger seat and listen to freddie mercurys smooth voice as he plays over the speakers. hes become one of your favorite artists thanks to steve. "i dont want to go home just yet."

steve grins, he knew youd say this, and you smile at the knowledge that he knows you so well.

his fingers are wrapped lazily around the steering wheel as he takes a slow turn back towards downtown hawkins. you watch his movements, illuminated by the lamp posts that spill light onto the otherwise dark wooded street. its late, the first monday of june and the last day of your junior year.

it had been steves last day of high school, and all he had wanted to do was spend it with you in his car, driving in circles around your small town.

you close your eyes and allow the moment to seep into your bones. youre in steve harringtons car, there are crickets outside as he drives you around the town the two of you met and grew up in, and youre in the car with the boy that you love and you know that he loves you, too.

"you still with me, angel?"

you hum. "im still here, honey."

"your eyes are closed."

"im enjoying the moment," your eyes remain closed and yet you can feel the smile that steve flashes your way. you can hear it in his voice, you can feel the shift in the air.

the car slows down at one of hawkins only stop lights. steve looks over at you and feels a heavy wave of affection roll over him. youre curled into yourself in the passenger seat, your hair spills over the headrest as you close your eyes, and its rare that he gets to see you so relaxed. "i can take you home if youre tired."

"but i love driving around with you," you mumble, feeling sleep beginning to crawl over you. but steves car is warm and smells like home. "one more loop, please?"

again steve feels affection caress his face when he hears your words. youve only curled further into yourself and your eyes are still closed; steve knows you really are struggling to stay away now. its late, he knows he should get you home soon so you can sleep, yet steve cant bring himself to deny your request.

"one more loop, but then im taking you to bed."

you giggle, happy youve won, but you try to argue some more anyways. no one else has ever been able to match your wit, so you revel in the quips you share with steve. "fine, its the first day of summer. dont be such a grandpa."

steve laughs, his voice is still husky and you can feel it drape over your tired body. "angel, weve got all summer to drive around this stupid town."

weve got all summer.

"promise?"

more crickets chirp and the car begins to drive once more, the stoplight now green. freddie mercury sings about the love of his life and how he doesnt want her to hurt him. your question of a promise joins alongside his pleads, and steve understands.

"i promise." he reaches for your hand and you feel his soft lips press against your palm. hes slow with the kiss, as if hes sealing his promise with it, and your body fizzes at the touch. "now lets get you home."

you bring the hand that hes holding to your face and nuzzle against it, too tired to respond with words. you simply nod your head and keep his hand there as a content sigh escapes you. steve has to bite his lip, scared he'll say the three words that terrify him.

youre everything.

youre his everything.

but steve has all summer to tell you this.

so instead he drives you home, taking the long way just so his hand can rest against the dip of your cheek for an extra few minutes.

#ask #anon #m speaks #m's writing #come home blurb #set in between seasons 2 and 3 !#steve is so so so in love #and theres something so intimate about driving around in someones car late at night without saying anything

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twstgarden · 11 months

Text

✿ ❝ 𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘄? ❞ (17+)

━ leona kingscholar x fem! reader ━ thinking you have moved on, you would not spare a glance at your ex, yet you found yourself looking back and fantasising about what could have been. getting no closure, you wonder if your relationship was really over. (modern au! the setting stays the same, but they are not students of night raven college) (f/n means first name) ━ song(s) used: is it over now? by taylor swift, style by taylor swift

17+, reader discretion is advised cw: (including, but not limited to) talks of unhealthy romantic relationships, hints of infidelity, implied intimacy/mature content, mentions of self-harm

requested by: @lqmoncake request type: oneshot requester's message: hii i was wondering if u could write a leona x reader (fem or gn wtv u want!!) story?? oneshot?? (sorry ive never requested anything) based off the song is it over now by taylor swift 🌝🌝 (the model in the song can be like vill or something idk whatever you want and can the new guy be malleus pls) thank u and take care mama 💗💗 florist's note: angst! my time to shine~ time to write for drama. thank you for the request, little one, and do take care of yourself as well. <3

this work may contain slight spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

whilst you sat on the floor, you were rummaging through your belongings to sort out the things that are deemed as trash and ones that you might need. it was all going well until you came across a specific necklace.

you stared at the pendant of the golden necklace as memories started flooding your head. you kept telling yourself that you had moved on, that you were already happy with your current lover, malleus.

but sometimes, thoughts of the past start to haunt you.

being in a relationship with someone who never had their personal wounds healed can be quite traumatizing, to say the least, but oh, the first stages of a newly-bloomed relationship will always be blissful no matter how unhealthy it ends.

midnight you come and pick me up, no headlights a long drive could end in burning flames or paradise

not everyone was aware of your relationship with the second prince of sunset savanna, and that is exactly how you both wanted it. you knew what you walked into the moment you started dating this prince. you knew exactly what people would think once your relationship with him had been publicized.

and yet you did not care. all you knew was this blissful private relationship could either end badly or wonderfully, and you knew the former would have been the outcome if you were to be realistic.

this was another one of the nights where you stayed with him in his home. it was way past 12 in the morning as you went to his room and cuddled with him whilst you two spoke about your day, your hands tangled in his brown locks as he held you close by your waist.

and i should just tell you to leave, 'cause i know exactly where it leads, but i watch us go 'round and 'round each time

*six months have passed and the so-called honeymoon phase of the relationship started to die down. what you thought was a fairytale turned out to be just another average, if not worse, nightmare.

the little things have blown into intense arguments, every mistake ends up becoming a huge deal, and you desperately wanted to make it stop already, but you couldn't.

and how did that end? things go in a loop. one apologises, the other forgives, and love prevails, until another fight breaks out, and the cycle begins once more.

the couch and the bed that you have grown accustomed to have begun filling you up with memories - both good and bad. as you sat on the couch with leona, cuddling up with him, you whispered, "i love you."

"i love you too," he whispered back, and like a fool, you both believed it's you and him against the world, that you two would always stick together no matter how much the universe wanted to break you apart.

leona reached for something in his pocket and revealed a golden necklace, locking it around your neck as he spoke, "keep it." your eyes glanced at the pendant resting above your chest with a smile on your face, thanking him with a loving kiss on the cheek.

i say, 'i heard, oh that you've been out and about with some other girl' some other girl he says, 'what you heard is true, but i can't stop thinking 'bout you and i' i said, 'i've been there too a few times'

*nine months into the relationship. you'd think you were growing stronger, but in reality, it was starting to become a mess. a number of your close friends and mutual friends have been aware of your relationship, and the public has been slowly getting hints and making predictions that you two are actually dating, but neither you nor leona have confirmed it as you both wanted to stay private.

"i saw the second prince of sunset savanna with another princess!"

"no kidding! i saw him with her too."

and because of that, rumours have been spreading around that sent you worrying. doubts started to cross your mind, but you always pushed them back and told yourself, 'he would never do that. he respects me enough that he wouldn't do something so cruel.'

you were right.

"i was with her because my brother set up that meeting. it was to discuss topics related to the *mining and energy facilities of sunset savanna," spoke leona, informing you of the actual reason why he was seen with another woman. he realised it was feeding up doubts in your mind, making him frown a little and you can sense this might stir up another argument, "...did you think i was doing something else?"

"i'm sorry... it's just that i heard people talking and i assumed..." you trailed off.

"assumed that i was being unfaithful."

a stern tone was evident in leona's voice as he completed your sentence, disappointment was an expression clear as day on his face as you tried to console him, not wanting to escalate the topic further into another mentally draining argument.

"don't try to act like the victim here. people have seen you with vil and that bastard draconia, but did i say a word about it? no. because i trust you, f/n," snapped leona as he glared at you.

this statement made you upset as you glared back at him and retorted back, "i was only asking you! i did not mean to doubt you, but the way people talk about it was making it seem like you were doing something else!"

"so does your side of the story! i've heard others saying how you would openly flaunt at vil and shower him with compliments that i myself have never heard from you. i've heard others talking about how you would smile so sweetly at that bastard and comfort him when he feels down," argued leona, "but i chose to not believe them because i trust you. i trust you enough that you would never do something like that to me, and yet when you hear one rumour about me, you automatically assume i was cheating on you?"

that night went on with a fight and ended with him sleeping on that couch you both grew to love and hate, while you stayed on his bed. both had wanted nothing to do with the other for a while and opted for the so-called silent treatment.

'cause we never go out of style (we never go, we never go) we never go out of style take me home (ah) just take me home (ah) yeah, just take me home (ah) oh-oh, woah-oh, oh (out of style)

a week after the argument, you started to lose hope that your relationship will ever flourish well. you started to pack your belongings to return to your home while he was out doing business. you finished packing and carried your bag as you went downstairs, only to find him on the couch as it seemed he had returned from wherever he went.

he turned to look at you and stood up, wrapping his arms around you as he asked, "where are you going?" you didn't want to fall for it again, his arms around your waist and the sweet whispers in your ear, none of that, no matter how tempted you are. you looked up at him as you told him the truth, "i think we need a break..."

leona looked down at you as he asked, "why?" once again, you both shared your thoughts and apologised for all the wrongdoings done by each party. another chance out of several endless chances, and you found yourself retaking a break from him.

on and off. this was the best way to describe the current predicament of your relationship.

on and off. he'd drive you home and take you back to his.

on and off. you spent nights loving him and sharing your dreams with him, and you spent days arguing and crying over small mistakes and doubts.

until you never heard from him again. no text, no letters, no meet-ups. it was as if everything fell silent. there was no closure on either side.

once the flight had flown (uh-huh) with the wilt of a rose (uh-huh) i slept all alone (uh-huh) you still wouldn't go

back to the present, you eyed the golden necklace on your hand as you remembered when he gave this to you and realised he was wearing the same matching necklace. you sighed softly to yourself, placing it back on the box you found it in before settling on the bed, laying all alone with nothing but thoughts of your previous lover resurfacing again.

no matter where you are, no matter how hard you try to forget about him, reminders of your relationship with him will always resurface. you truly never felt alone with the memories haunting you every now and then.

let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor you search in every maiden's bed for somethin' greater, baby

morning weekends are generally a great time to spend with yourself, show some self-care and indulge in your hobbies while your current lover is busy with his royal duties.

does it seem like a coincidence? your ex was also a member of a royal family, and your current lover is also a member of a royal family, albeit he is in line for the throne, which adds more responsibilities.

to start your day, you decided to get some coffee in the nearby local café and possibly visit some spots you intended to go to. upon entering the café, you approached the counter and ordered your usual takeout. it was all going fine until you saw the barista brewing your coffee, he had the same shade of green eyes as he does, and a similar neutral expression that made him look so mysterious and stern.

you brushed it off, thinking that your mind is playing tricks on you again. the barista then handed you your drink and you thanked him, to which he gave you a small smug smile before returning back to work.

the same smile that you see on his face a lot.

you shook your head a little to snap out of your thoughts before walking away and leaving the café, trying your very best to think about something else and not your ex.

was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

you and leona never got closure from one another, and it left you wondering if your relationship with him was really over from the moment you heard the rumours of him with that princess you talked about and how their relationship had been growing close.

or was it over the moment you entered into a relationship with malleus? the moment you start to forget about leona and spend your days with your new lover, giving him the love and care he deserves. was it really over the moment you spent your nights with your new lover and not him?

thinking you had both moved on, you found peace with malleus. you never experienced hearing him raise his voice at you or argue over little things. he would always make a point to talk about an issue, and not yell about it as he thought that would amount to nothing.

what you went through in an unhealthy relationship moulded your perspective when it comes to love. what you deemed as normal, such as apologising for the little things and fearing to speak about certain topics to not anger your partner, was always deemed as odd to malleus.

this was another case of finding the person who truly loves you, but you are too wounded from the past and it may cause toxicity to arise in your relationship if you are not careful.

your new girl is my clone and did you think i didn't see you? there were flashin' lights at least i had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

as you scrolled through your phone, you came across an article from a famous entertainment news blog talking about the second prince of sunset savanna being arranged for a political marriage with a girl who has the same shade of hair and the same eye colour as you.

was it intentional for him to be destined to marry someone who looks like you?

you tried to brush that thought. surely, now that he was rumoured to get married, it meant it really was over. everyone was talking about it, from the littlest moments of them conversing in public areas to pictures of them spending time together privately.

at least you had the decency to keep the private aspects of your romance with malleus a secret.

oh, lord, i think about jumpin' off of very tall somethings just to see you come runnin' and say the one thing i've been wanting, but no

despite telling yourself that you have moved on, you still think of your ex from time to time. thoughts of even trying to harm yourself crossed your mind, in hopes that he would come and save you.

of course, that will always just be an imagination.

'maybe if i try to jump off this building, he'll come running.'

what a dangerous thought that was, and yet you never acted upon it as you knew better than to cut your life short over someone who made you feel so many things at once - both positive and negative.

you started to wonder what went wrong.

you knew that both of you had their contributions on how the relationship got unhealthy afterwards, and yet, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly was the reason that made your fairytale of a relationship turn into one hell of a nightmare.

was it the rumoured illicit affairs?

was it the rumoured blooming romance between you and someone else?

was it your mistrust?

was it his lack of comfort?

(flashin' lights; oh, lord; oh) let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later (oh) (flashin' lights) i was hoping you'd be there and say the one thing (oh, lord) i've been wanting (oh, lord) but no

and once again, you found yourself on the same coffee shop, looking at the cup you were holding as you watched the steam from the hot coffee with a soft sigh, smiling a little to yourself in an attempt to comfort and make you forget about such thoughts.

you have moved on, have you not?

*six months and *nine months refers to the three-six-nine rule which is noted to be an informal rule that some people follow when they are in a new romantic relationship (source). *mining and energy facilities is a reference to chapter 7 part 1's update where the third years discuss where they plan to have their internships and leona mentioned he'd do something related to the mining and energy facilities of his country.

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Note

AheM 🌸 Im a secret lover for hugs so I’ll gladly accept and reciprocate :) and yep sorry I just fuLLy fully read the whole post :’) that definitely goes out to them and you and whoever gets unnecessary stupid hate. Heheh well if you don’t mind I’ll ask for something under this and it’s more than okay if you took like months just take ur time🤭 naw I’m sorry you didn’t have a great day, that’s really shit, but I’m super happy you feel better and hopefully today and tomorrow is a better day! And remember I’ve got two shoulders in case and anytime🫡💪 how’d you know? I’m like always dehydrated, dehydration is scared of me ahaha. But hey most if the time it’s always the people giving advice aren’t following it… so you better be drinking plenty of water too!! And as for the request, would it be possible to ask for a WandaNat with like pregnant reader or reader already recovering from a bad injury with prompts like ‘Ill timed’ and ‘ it’s nothing’🫣 if not that’s okay but ily thank you thank you your amazing eat drink SLEEP, take care of yourself please :)) <3

Are You Staying

⧽ Notes: Hi! So, I don't write anything for pregnant anyone, but here's a sick and hurt reader for you!

⧽Summary: Reader is injured badly after a mission, leaving them with an infection.

⧽Word Count: 1665

〔 Masterlists 〕

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were so, so tired of laying in bed, but your girlfriends wouldn’t let you get up. Apparently, when you ignore an injury for so long that the infection turns into sepsis you are no longer allowed to make decisions for yourself. Who knew?

Well, there you were, laying in bed, struggling to focus on the book that you were holding in slightly trembling hands. The large gash along your side was beginning to throb again, indicating that you needed another dose of pain medicine, but it made you groggy and you didn't like it.

You were already feeling sort of fuzzy, your mind blurring in and out. Your head ached and you were starting to wonder if this was more than just the damn lingering infection. Bruce had finally taken you off the IV antibiotics but you were warned that it was vital for you to take the oral ones on a strict schedule to ensure that you didn’t get worse again.

You rubbed your throat gently and cleared it, trying to get rid of the tickle that had taken up residence there in the past hour or so. It was when the first sneeze came that you finally connected the dots.

The pain in your sinuses, the slightly runny nose that had required you to wipe it every few minutes, the inability to get warm, the overwhelming feeling of fatigue. It wasn't the infection. You had a cold. You had a damn cold. Of all things, you had gotten yourself sick. Your girlfriends were going to kill you.

Deciding that it was probably best to keep them out of the loop, you put the book aside and curled up under the blankets in a last-ditch effort to sleep the bug off. Maybe if you’d noticed earlier you would’ve had time to get ahead of it, but for now, you would at least sleep. Putting off rest had probably not helped the situation. Fuck. This was going to be a very long few days.

When you woke you were incredibly disoriented. The pain in your side was so bad you felt like you wanted to throw up and for some reason, you couldn’t move. This was wrong, this was not okay.

You managed to sit up with a lot of effort but your head was spinning, the room tilting around you in a way that made you wonder if you should call your girlfriends. They probably wouldn’t mind, they weren’t doing anything important, they just had a lot of busy work to do. You were also supposed to be doing busy work if you felt up to it, but there was absolutely no way you could read, much less hold a pen.

A harsh fit of coughing wracked your body, your lungs burning in agony as your side screamed at you that you needed to stop, that you needed to sit still and never move again, but you couldn’t stop coughing.

You doubled over despite the protest of your body and hacked until you finally managed to cough up a glob of something green and absolutely disgusting. You leaned over the side of the bed and spit into the trashcan with an agonized groan.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get a full breath of air into your lungs. Everything hurt, everything was miserable, and the world was definitely ending. Tears rolled down your cheeks which you were sure were flushed with fever and you were regretting not taking the pain medication earlier. Now you were in too much pain to get up and find the pills.

You managed to roll over and grabbed your phone, gasping aloud as you pleaded with the world that your stitches stayed intact. You really didn’t want to stain your bed with any unnecessary blood, the girls would probably be upset, they loved this comforter.

With pain blurring in your vision you managed to click on the icon for Wanda’s name and hit speaker, absolutely no way that you would be able to hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hi sweet girl, what’s up? Are you alright?” The woman’s voice lilted over the phone, immediately calming you down. She had a way about her, her mere presence, whether in person or over the phone, always served to make you feel safer.

“I-I need…Wanda…Wanda it hurts…” You said through quiet sobs, your words punctuated by a particularly harsh sneeze that made you cry out.

“Okay, okay love, give us five minutes. I’m going to stay on the phone with you. Are you bleeding? Can you check for me?” She asked, you could hear that she was running, another set of footsteps behind her.

“No.” You whimpered, desperate for them to be back. You wanted them to fix it, you wanted them to make everything stop hurting, you wanted them to magically cure your sickness, which Wanda may actually be able to do.

“Alright baby, just stay still. Wanda and I will be there soon. Keep breathing.” That was Natasha, her voice rushed as footsteps pounded in the background. You coughed and let out a sob, curling into a ball as your eyes and nose streaming. Part of you wished that the pain would just take over so that you could pass out and stop feeling it.

You had almost slipped into that unconsciousness when the door slammed open and you felt gentle hands on your cheeks, one of the girls pleading with you to open your eyes. You obeyed, but mostly because of the harsher tone that you were sure came from Natasha.

You stared at their blurry figures, wondering how much of this was the fever and how much was the injury.

“Hey baby girl, there you are. Here, just want you to take this, okay? Swallow for me.” Wanda slipped a pill into your mouth and Natasha followed it with a cool bottle pressed to your lips. You took a little sip, but the cold water grated against your throat in an incredibly uncomfortable way. Every molecule in your body was ordering you to just stop. Your body was done.

“Oh Y/n, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” The witch cooed, wiping away tears as quickly as they could.

“I-it’s nothin’, s’nothin. J’st hurts.” You breathed, already feeling the effects of the strong cocktail that was whatever Bruce had prescribed for you.

“Do you think the infection’s back? We’ve been making sure that they take the antibiotic, should we call Banner?” Natasha asked, speaking to you as if you weren’t in the room, literally sitting right there. Of course, you were so out of it that you may as well have been in space, floating away from reality.

“Y/n, love, Nat’s going to check your side,” Wanda said, well aware that you weren’t listening even in the slightest as the drug kicked into your system. She could feel the heat radiating off of your skin and was absolutely panicking, but doing a good job of keeping it under control.

Natasha very carefully lifted up your shirt and peeled back the bandage to reveal a thankfully clean, not bleeding cut with all of the stitches still intact. She let out a sigh of relief and kissed your stomach right next to the injury.

You sneezed pitifully into the pillow and whined, looking up at Wanda with big, sad eyes. She grabbed a tissue and wiped your nose tenderly, her whole body relaxing as she took in the situation.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” Natasha shifted and frowned at the two of you, sitting right by your head. You shifted into her lap and nodded, muffling a fit of chesty coughs into her leg. The assassin rubbed your back while the brunette by your feet hummed her disapproval.

“Okay, Y/n/n, let’s check your temperature and we’ll get you some medicine.” The thermometer was still there since they had been monitoring your temperature for infection reasons, but now you had a fever for a whole new reason! Your body was trying to kill you for something new!

“Open.” You glanced over at Wanda and pouted slightly, nuzzling closer to your other girlfriend, the one who wasn’t going to make you do something that you didn’t want to. You didn’t hurt anymore and you weren’t about to stay awake until the pain came back.

“Just listen to her,” Natasha ordered, poking you in the face to get you to open your mouth. Your first instinct was to bite her, but she was too quick for that. The witch placed the thermometer under your tongue and you let it stay there, not in the mood to fight either one of the women.

The redhead you were sitting on stroked your hair as you waited for the stick to beep, unknowingly lulling you closer to sleep.

“102.4, that’s not great. Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Wanda murmured, scooching up on the bed so that she was laying beside you, still wearing relatively comfortable clothes. You rolled over and pressed your head into her chest, mumbling some excuse that no one could make out under your breath.

“Okay babe, take some more Tylenol and you can sleep.” You lifted your head and opened your mouth, not caring enough to take it yourself. If they wanted you to be medicated, they would be medicating you. Natasha rolled her eyes while Wanda chuckled and she helped you swallow the pills before laying you back down.

“You stayin’?” You slurred tiredly, cuddling up against the Sokovian.

“Of course, we’re staying, dummy. Apparently, you can’t be trusted by yourself.” The redhead grumbled, laying down on your other side. She pulled the blankets up over the three of you and kissed your shoulder blade. Wanda kissed your forehead and you sniffled, snuggling deep into the blankets. You could deal with the cold later, for now, you just wanted to be held.

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imperaptorfuriosa · 1 year

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RUTH'S CHAINSHIPPING FIC REC LIST ⛓️

as requested by @kidwars :)

im still fairly new here so im certain there is some great stuff i havent read yet (my reading list is STACKED) but these are some of my faves so far!!!!! i also went thro and tagged any authors who had their tumblr in their ao3 profile so i could say hi i love your work, but if anyone wants a tag removed (or added) just lmk

rematch by unstuckintime. time-loops are one of my all time favorite styles of fix-it so this fic is literally EVERYTHING!!

sleeping with ghosts by @adrianicsea . my other favorite type of au is a GHOST AU and this one is fantastic!! written by a beloved mutual, i read all 250k of it in like 3 days flat. it's addicting AND not even done yet. BONUS POINTS for trans adam!!!

heaven knows im miserable now by bleakmidwinter. lawrence asks adam to help with his PT/recovery at a remote cabin. adam's artistic side is given some focus. it's so damn good just read it.

to hold you again by TheFamousFireLadyM. IM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC. i think about it OFTEN. it's all about lawrence's grief/guilt/obsession with adam. short and excellent. (not a fix-it)

Stop Bath by fakebodies ( @2x4swrites ) . adam finds that lawrence has been taking photos of him when he wasnt paying attention. it's so sweet, so good, i love it.

Can You Feel My Heart? by @vixenfur . i love that they are literally both like "wow gay sex feels so good, and that's weird because i'm definitely straight!" LMAO

Family Tree by @general-sleepy. ive read a whole bunch of adam as a step-dad fics and this one is one of my faves....i am a simple man and a perpetual sucker for family/domestic aus and im not apologizing for that.

i'd tell you everything; if you'd pick up that telephone by @whatifwekissedinthesawbathroom . lovely dialogue-only fic. i love the ones where adam and lawrence move in together first, THEN figure out that they are also in love and this fic is one that stands out in my brain from that genre.

you're the one (using me as a muse) by 10pintsofsacrifice ( @angeltrapz ). this one deals with the pressure of the media/press on adam, and ends with the sweetest fluff. it's so good <3

and 2 bonus coffinshipping recs too >:)

Strahm Dies at the End by unstuckintime. this fic singlehandedly converted me to hoffstrahm-ism. HILARIOUS opening. it's very dark but tbh? that's the way this dynamic works for me.

rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakmidwinter. still dark, but does have a happy ending. i know i just said i like my hoffstrahms to be evil and toxic but this fic really hit the spot. what can i say? i love when the 2 guys are chained together LMAO

#i literally have a just like heaven au by a fave saw author im dying to read so like. there might be a future recc list and/or update #fic rec #ruth talks

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rileys-battlecats · 4 months

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omg?? i adore everything ab all of ur work, but especially ur warriors oc stuff. all the characters are so well-characterized and designed. and also the names?? did i mention designs?? honestly mudpaw is one of the most relatable characters ive ever seen. also i love that the other apprentices are actually understanding and more like actual children cats instead of existing to be mean. (ok that sounds like im saying children aren’t mean i promise some of them are)

but like, to the actual question/s. how did you come up with the concept and get it to this point? in that one commentary video you made, i remember you mentioning that he used to be mudstripe, and he was a serial killer (sidenote that’s actually so baddie) although you decided that you wanted to tell the story of a victim rather than a villian. but did it take a lot of thinking to get micaclan as a whole to this point, or did it just kinda come naturally? also im so sorry i typed an entire essay

WAAAAHHSVDJHSDJAB THANK YOU :') also you don't ever have to apologize for sending me essays in my inbox I love asks like this <3 <3

The story and world as they are now have developed incrementally over time. In the beginning, I never really intended to make anything more for this story beyond "Johnny". I had a very specific animatic visualized for that song (because I'd been listening to it on loop for days lol), and I made characters and a story that fit with the idea.

After making and uploading it, though, the characters and their story kept knocking around in my brain!! I wanted to expand on them, and to develop them more. If my memory is right, "Johnny" was the first time I'd ever made a video telling a story of my own making (previous projects had all been stuff from existing media), and I was excited by the idea of making more :) the storytelling aspect was really interesting to me!

I started coming up with more details in my head, things like character traits and names and the next story beats I wanted to portray. By the time I made "The Garden", I'd worked up at least a loose idea of the story in my head (though I wasn't sure where exactly I was going to take it in the end at that point), and I had designed most of the clan members (mostly to fill backgrounds tbh).

Then, some folks in the youtube comments started asking about references for the different characters, and I started this blog to share them! This is definitely the point where I got REALLY into worldbuilding and fleshing out characters haha. Each reference I posted included a little bit of text about the character, and I got to put to words some of the ideas I'd had previously. Or, it gave me the opportunity to come up with some character traits for background characters I hadn't given much thought to previously! Then people started engaging with the blog more, and having people ask questions gave me the opportunity to think about lots of different aspects of the story, characters, and world. From there, it feels like the entire story expanded, bit by bit, detail by detail. So it definitely took a lot of thinking, but that thinking happened pretty naturally over time, if that makes sense!

#ask #honestly it's really fun to go back and look at the first few posts on this blog #like. I hadn't even fully decided that I wanted mudpaw to get apprenticed to owlpounce at that point #the story wasn't quite in its infancy but it was definitely still learning to walk lol

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beesmygod · 7 months

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I think consoles should probably die but I think the issue is that the 350 dollar pc you screenshotted like. Is bad lol. It won't run new games flat out. Its like 800-1000 dollars for a midrange pc that does what you need it to ie new games and the lower price is with like months of scalping deals. Consoles still have a niche of like 500 dollars and it will do what it does for 10 years and make games look decent, which like technical aptitude aside and such like is a valuable niche. (Note: I have built pcs and will never do so myself again because it sounds easy enough until like your ram isn't compatible with your motherboard's bios despite it listing it as such and amd sends you 3 dead cpus in a row and your gpu has removed all antialiasing from games due to the silicon lottery etc etc. Never again lol, I'm paying others to deal with this from now on.)

the price on the one i posted (courtesy of goons who were talking about this exact thing by coincidence the other day) is also bc its refurbed, which helps. the dead CPU thing i hate so fucking much. i went through the same shit as you with motherboards and also had to return them 3x. since when do we live in a universe where you buy a product costing over 100 dollars and are supposed to anticipate it wont work?? insane!!!! but on the other hand i can switch shit out whenever and if it breaks its not a huge hassle.

i realized when i woke up from nap #3 today (woof lol) that part of the problem i have with things in general is that graphical fidelity is inexplicably the marker by which we determine quality. a console that can render a photo realistic human flawlessly is worthless if the games revolving around that feature and that feature only are ass. like, the only positive thing ive heard unprompted about the ps5 is that the controller is extremely cool but i will be fucking damned if i could name a single game that wasnt a tech demo that used it effectively. because they've locked themselves into this corner of boasting about having the best graphics, they have to develop games that primarily feature 4k super ultra mega graphics to justify the expense of the console. does this make sense. like now they're in this stupid loop where because game production revolves around the feature that they didn't appear to actually meaningfully plan for.

also im sick in the head, bc my first thought when people were like "but the computer won't run on ultra high settings!" was "so? turn them down?". but then i remembered all of the games ive played in the last 10 years that looked like ass because the devs didnt think that they should try to make the game attractive or maintain any of the atmosphere for people with normal computers.

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shion-yu · 7 months

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A Safe Place (part 3) [day 18]

A feverish Cliff is seen in the emergency room. For @monthofsick Day 18 “Unfamiliar surroundings”. 2,965 words, original work, TWs emeto, hospital content.

Part 1 | Part 2 - I swear this was supposed to be 2 parts but now it’s gonna be 4? Lol whoops.

Elliot supported Cliff into the busy ER. It was a Saturday, of course there were a lot of people there, Elliot thought regretfully. Silly to hope otherwise. Elliot eased Cliff into a seat as close to the reception desk as possible and then checked Cliff in, presenting Cliff’s ID and health insurance card. He was grateful Cliff’s wallet and phone were the two things his boyfriend had actually brought with him when he left his parents’ house, although a jacket and his inhaler would have been useful third and fourth choices.

“What’s this visit for?” The receptionist asked after scanning the cards and handing them back to Elliot.

“My boyfriend is having trouble breathing,” Elliot said, hoping this concerned her as much as it concerned him. “He has asthma, he’s wheezing, and he has a high fever. He didn’t know who I was earlier.”

The receptionist stood up a little to catch a glimpse of Cliff in his seat, who did look like he was struggling. “Okay, we’ll get him triaged as soon as possible,” the receptionist said. Elliot chose to believe her for his own sanity’s sake. “In the meantime, have him wear a mask.”

Cliff sagged against Elliot when Elliot sat next to him. He was in no shape to do paperwork, so Elliot tried to fill it out as much as he could. Fifteen minutes passed. Cliff was whimpering in pain and his wheeze had grown louder. “Just a few more minutes, Cliffy,” Elliot said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. Thirty minutes passed. Cliff was now insisting he was fine after all, and that they ought to go home. But that was when he was lucid, which would last only a minute before he’d follow up by saying something that made very little sense and reminded Elliot exactly why they couldn’t leave. Finally, about forty minutes after they’d checked in, a nurse called Cliff’s name and brought them to a small room between the waiting room and the actual ER. Elliot repeated the story he’d given the receptionist although more aggressively this time as the nurse nodded and took Cliff’s vitals.

Elliot never wanted Cliff to be so sick. However, his vitals did prompt some action and for that Elliot was grateful. Cliff’s fever was 103.5 now, his oxygen running lower than expected at 92%, and his heart rate and blood pressure were both high. The nurse led them to a stretcher in a curtained off bay and told Cliff to change into a gown. Elliot had to help Cliff climb up, his boyfriend’s coordination poor. His hands were shaking too hard to button his own gown up, so Elliot did it for him.

“Don’t feel good,” Cliff mumbled, swaying even as he sat up on the stretcher.

“I know, just lie back,” Elliot said. “They’re gonna help you.”

Thankfully, this time they only waited about ten minutes before a new nurse came in with a small bucket full of supplies. She introduced herself as Anna and said she was going to insert an IV, take some blood, and hook Cliff up to oxygen and fluids. She was also going to swab Cliff for flu and strep, but Elliot explained the urgent care had already done that. “Well, this tests for some other stuff too, it’s a full respiratory panel. I’d recommend we just do it anyways.” Elliot agreed on Cliff’s behalf; Cliff seemed to be communicating only in nods at this point.

Nurse Anna looped some oxygen tubing over Cliff’s ears first and plugged it into the wall. She also attached a blood pressure cuff and oxygen probe that she said would stay on for now for monitoring. Elliot felt like all the devices only made Cliff look sicker. Anna swabbed Cliff’s nose, which made him cough harshly to the point of gagging, and then got ready to insert an IV.

Cliff looked to Elliot in panic, swallowing rapidly. ‘Faint,’ he mouthed to Elliot helplessly. “Um, I think he passes out when there’s needles,” Elliot spoke up for him. Cliff nodded gratefully.

“Well you’re in the right place if you do,” Nurse Anna said. She lowered the head of the stretcher and told Elliot to hold Cliff’s hand as she looked for a vein in his other arm. “I’ll go super quick,” she reassured them, and she was right. It was quick. But Cliff turned sheet white and got really sweaty and by the time she’d collected enough tubes of blood, flushed and secured the hub and hooked him up to a bag of fluids, Cliff was barely conscious. “Don’t worry, it happens,” she said. She put a pillow under Cliff’s legs and told him to breathe deeply through his nose. Elliot found her calm demeanor the only thing keeping him calm, because it seemed terrifying even if it was normal. Cliff followed her directions and eventually gained some color back. Anna said his blood pressure was coming back up and that he should just lie there with his feet up for a few more minutes, then left the room.

“I’m sorry,” Cliff apologized miserably for the tenth time since they’d come back here.

“Baby, please, stop apologizing,” Elliot told him. “You’re here because you have to be and you’re not doing anything bad or wrong. Just rest.”

Cliff’s eyes filled with tears and he covered them with his forearm. “I suck,” he whimpered, Elliot’s words clearly not having reached him as intended. Elliot sighed and put one hand on Cliff’s head to stroke his sweaty hair. It wasn’t worth fighting Cliff on this right now. Elliot just had to be there for him.

Cliff fell asleep to Elliot’s relief. Elliot texted his mom what was going on and hoped this wasn’t as bad as it felt. Cliff snored quietly until a woman came with a huge portable x-ray machine. “Sorry to wake you up,” she said, “Cliff? I’m here to get your x-ray. I’ll go fast.”

Cliff opened his eyes and stared blankly at her. Elliot wasn’t sure if Cliff knew what was going on at this point so he stroked Cliff’s arms and explained, “Cliff? She’s gonna take the pictures of your lungs now.” He helped the x-ray tech manipulate Cliff’s torso so that he was lying on a hard board. Elliot stood in the doorway while they did the films.

“Alright, take a nice deep breath for me and hold it,” the x-ray tech said. “I know, good job, got it. You can cough.” And cough Cliff did, that same desperate wet cough that had made Elliot’s mind up to bring him here. He managed to catch his breath, but it wasn’t over. “One more,” the tech said, moving the boards and machine around to point at Cliff’s side now. “Again. Deep breath. One, two, and good. Let it out.”

This time Cliff didn’t seem able to stop coughing. He coughed until each gasp sounded like a Herculean struggle and Elliot wasn’t sure that any of that air he was gulping in was actually reaching his lungs. The machine that was measuring Cliff’s oxygen levels started to beep and the tech told Elliot she was going to find the nurse. Elliot held on to Cliff and tried to soothe him, but it didn’t seem to work. Cliff just kept coughing until suddenly his eyes flew open and he spewed a sharp wave of vomit from his mouth all the way to the end of the stretcher. Elliot winced, pulling back and trying not to look at the mess. Cliff spluttered and coughed between additional harsh gags that produced little besides a stream of thick brown saliva that pooled in his lap. Elliot prayed the nurse would come in soon and hesitantly rubbed Cliff’s back. He didn’t know what to do and Cliff seemed frozen, unable to lift his head or close his mouth.

Thankfully the nurse showed up then and said, “Oh no!” Oh no was right, Elliot thought anxiously. “Did we just get coughing too hard?” She glanced at Cliff's oxygen levels and turned a small green dial on the wall, which made a quiet hissing noise for a second as the flow of oxygen increased. “Don’t worry hun, we’re going to get you cleaned up.” She found a change of sheets in one of the cupboards behind the stretcher and changed the blankets and top sheet in record time. She checked Cliff’s fluids which were nearly done and then charted standing in the room for a few minutes on her rolling computer.

Cliff was silent, hunched over holding a pink plastic basin in his lap in case of another incident, and Elliot couldn’t tell if he was just out of it or humiliated. The room still smelled of putrid stomach acid; Elliot breathed through his mouth. His phone dinged in his pocket and he saw an alarmed text from his mother. He didn’t have time to reply though, as the doctor walked in at that moment.

“Doctor Jim,” Anna greeted him politely, scooting her computer farther away from the bedside. “He just threw up coughing and I turned up his oxygen.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dr. Jim said. He looked to be in about his forties, was mostly bald and had tiny round glasses that looked too small for his face. “Cliff? I’m Jim, I’m a physician here. How are you doing today?”

Elliot thought that was a stupid question. Cliff looked at Dr. Jim with hazy eyes and mumbled, “Sick.”

“Well, that makes sense. You’ve got yourself a nasty case of double pneumonia,” Dr. Jim said. Elliot’s heart sank. “Has this ever happened to you before?”

Cliff shook his head no. He moved his hand to the edge of the bed that Elliot understood as a silent signal to hold it, which he did. “Well, I think it’s best if we admit you for observation overnight with the vitals you have. I’m going to order two IV antibiotics and some steroids, try and get that swelling down in your lungs and hopefully you’ll be feeling better in no time. How’s that sound?”

Cliff didn’t answer. “That sounds fine,” Elliot said, squeezing Cliff’s hand. “Can I stay with him?”

“Once we move him to the floor, visiting hours are eight to eight,” Dr. Jim said. “But you can stay with him for as long as he’s in the ER.” He turned to Anna and gave a few other orders for Zofran, Tylenol, albuterol and budesonide treatments. It all seemed so casual to them, but Elliot was still disturbed by how sick Cliff looked and seemed to him.

Dr. Jim physically examined Cliff next. Cliff shuddered and Dr. Jim apologized for his cold hands, but Elliot knew that the temperature hadn’t had anything to do with it. He hummed a lot, wrote down some notes, and then left with a “Hope you feel better soon.” Elliot wondered if he told all his patients that, or just the ones who could actually get better soon. Nurse Anna also excused herself to get the ordered medications, leaving Elliot alone with Cliff once again.

“So… pneumonia. That sounds pretty bad,” Elliot said. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt so sick?”

“You were at work. I didn’t want to bother you,” Cliff said in a tiny voice. “And then I tried to text you but none of the letters in my phone made sense.”

Elliot felt his chest clench painfully hearing that. “Cliff, you wouldn’t have bothered me.”

“But I’m bothering you now,” Cliff whimpered.

Elliot frowned. “I didn’t say that.” Silence from Cliff. Elliot sighed and grasped Cliff’s hand in his own. “Cliff, Cliffy, can you look at me?” It took a second, but fever-bright, hazel eyes eventually focused on Elliot. “You’re my boyfriend. I want you to be okay. Can you at least try to trust me?”

“I do trust you,” Cliff whispered, voice hurt.

“Then let me care about you.”

Cliff fell quiet again and Elliot sat back but kept Cliff’s hand in his. Cliff had his eyes closed, but it didn’t do much to hide the tears that escaped from the corners of them. Elliot didn’t say anything, just brushed them off of Cliff’s cheeks with his sleeve. Once Cliff was asleep, Elliot finally allowed his own silent tears to fall.

Eventually a CNA came to bring Cliff down to the short-stay unit. She rolled Cliff’s stretcher down the hall and into an elevator. Cliff looked nervous and kept glancing at Elliot, making sure he was still right next to him. Elliot always was. They got to a small room that had a real hospital bed in it and the CNA and Elliot both helped Cliff take two steps from the stretcher onto the bed. It was painful for Elliot to see how difficult even this brief transfer was for Cliff, and Cliff started another one of his long coughing spasms afterwards. Elliot rubbed Cliff’s arm, unsure what else he could possibly do to help. “Water,” Cliff croaked hoarsely between deep, rattling coughs.

“Sure. Um…” Elliot looked around him but this room was barely more than an ER bay. It didn’t even have windows. “Let me go check,” he said, and went to go look for the nurse’s station. There were two tired and rather bored looking, middle aged women sitting at computers at the end of the hall. “Excuse me? My boyfriend just got here and he could use some water…”

“I’m almost there,” one of the nurses said, which Elliot thought was a weird thing to say when she very much wasn’t almost there. Regardless, they didn’t seem to like him hovering very much so Elliot went back to Cliff’s room. There was nowhere for him to sit, so he stood at the bedside. Cliff had managed to stop coughing at least.

The nurse, despite her indifferent demeanor, did show up with a little bin that contained hospital socks, meds and a large plastic jug of water. “Clifford Barrows, hmm? I’m Carey. And you are…?” She raised an eyebrow at Elliot.

Suddenly feeling extra protective, Elliot quickly said, “His boyfriend.”

“Alright. Mr. Barrows, are you okay to have Elliot in here?”

Cliff nodded a yes. Elliot thought it was so weird to hear Cliff called by his last name. They seemed too young for that.

“Well, your boyfriend will have to leave after I finish this admission paperwork as visiting hours are over soon, but remind me to get you a chair for tomorrow,” Carey said. She started a myriad of questions, which included Cliff’s emergency contact.

“Make it Elliot,” Cliff said quickly, looking at him. “Um, will my dad know I’m here?”

“You’re eighteen, right? Not unless you tell him,” Carey said. “But I see your dad is the primary insurance holder so he may see the invoice after you’re discharged. It shouldn’t show any details though.”

Cliff grimaced but nodded. At least there would be no confrontation in the actual hospital, Elliot thought to himself. Carey kept asking questions, which ranged from did Cliff smoke to could he walk up a flight of stairs to did he have any plans to hurt himself right now. They seemed a little ridiculous to Elliot, but Cliff was able to answer all of them with simple yes’s and no’s pretty quickly since he was for the most part entirely healthy.

“You’re easy,” Carey said, winking at Cliff. “Boyfriend? Visiting hours are over now honey, so you say your goodbyes and you can come back at 8am tomorrow morning.” Elliot thought she was kind of like those old ladies at diners who yelled at you for your order but called you honey so you couldn’t feel totally attacked.

He nodded and gave Cliff a quick hug. He thought about kissing him, but Cliff didn’t like to be kissed in front of other people so he just squeezed Cliff’s hand instead. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised. “Get some rest and tell them if you don’t feel good, okay?”

“Okay,” Cliff said. He looked scared, so Elliot hugged him again and kissed the top of his head this time.

“I love you,” Elliot said. “I know you can be strong for me. You’ve got your phone right here.”

Elliot didn’t look back as he left, because he could feel Cliff’s kicked puppy expression trailing him and knew if he did, it would be ten times harder to leave. He walked to the parking lot without thinking, got in his car, and drove home without Cliff beside him. He made it to the park a block away from his parents’ house before he pulled over and cried for a solid ten minutes.

Cliff was going to be okay, Elliot told himself. Cliff was stronger than he seemed, and realistically Elliot couldn’t be there for him every second of the way. But he’d promised Cliff they weren’t going to the hospital, and then he promised Cliff that he’d be right there next to him the whole time. He’d broken both of these promises and now Cliff was sleeping in a hospital bed, in a tiny room with no windows and only a crotchety old lady to keep an eye on him. Elliot felt just terrible and wondered if he’d made the wrong choice dragging Cliff to the ER. All he wanted was for Cliff to be okay, though, and he really hadn’t seemed okay today.

Elliot wiped his tears away and told himself he had to be strong. This seemed so intense and adult, but Elliot couldn’t let it overwhelm him. He tried to remember the coping mechanisms his therapist had taught him back in high school. Deep breaths. One second at a time. He could do it, and so could Cliff. Elliot turned on the car and returned home by himself.

[Part 4]

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