#last nights nurse woke me to be with her in her final moments

[simptasia]

my mum died last night

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3

//

one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.

last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.

he can’t blame his son, though.

jungkook is the same.

when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.

as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.

jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."

at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.

at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.

by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.

… and holy shit, is it awful.

zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.

jungkook can’t hear a thing.

he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.

hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.

it’s pouring rain.

he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?

then, it gets worse.

jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.

he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.

he accepts his fate.

“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”

zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”

“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”

“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”

jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.

he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.

just 4 blocks.

he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.

it feels like he’s stuck.

it feels like shit.

he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.

“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”

just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.

“zion!” your voice calls out.

you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.

no call, no texts—just… there.

thank god.

jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.

to live life with you.

to be with you.

to love you.

zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.

“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”

jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.

“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”

zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”

“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”

zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.

jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.

finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.

jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.

it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.

then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.

now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.

today, he failed.

… and that’s okay.

as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.

zion is safe.

zion is loved.

… and in the end, that’s all that matters.

as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.

“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.

“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”

“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”

“mr. and mrs. jeon?”

you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.

“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”

“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”

zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”

your heart melts.

“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”

jungkook’s heart melts.

you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.

it’s something real.

as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.

“let’s go?”

jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.

he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.

suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.

he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.

fuck.

you hate it so much.

“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.

still, it frustrates you.

watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.

and he does.

because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.

you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.

as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.

sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.

the car ride was quiet. 

you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 

jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 

he loves the way you are with his son. 

he loves you so much. 

when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 

zion is just like this when he’s sick. 

once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 

from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 

“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”

“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”

you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”

jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”

he clears his throat. 

“sorry.”

you shrug. “don’t be.”

he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 

“drive safe, okay?” 

“i will.”

“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”

“i will.”

“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”

“i will.”

“honey?”

“mhmm?”

“go and come back quickly.”

jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 

“i will.”

the day goes by fast. 

jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 

as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 

“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 

“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.

reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 

condoms. 

you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 

quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—

“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 

you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 

“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”

“mean?”

“i was gonna say needy…”

jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 

“he hated me today.”

“that can’t be true—”

“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”

you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”

wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”

“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”

jungkook pauses. 

then, it hits him. 

it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 

“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”

“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”

“what do you—”

you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…

maybe it’s just time. 

“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”

“okay, okay—”

“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”

“okay—”

“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”

“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”

jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 

you gulp.

“why do you have a box of condoms?” 

he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 

your shoulders slump.

“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”

on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 

he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 

jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 

“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

you smile and pucker up. 

he kisses you again. 

“love you.”

you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 

“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”

“bad?”

“bad.”

you laugh and shift.

he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 

“w-wait—”

jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 

you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 

your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 

your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 

the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 

it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 

jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 

 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”

you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 

“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."

he lets you. 

jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 

make me cum. 

“cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 

you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 

“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”

as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 

the world around you two fades into a soft blur.

the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.

the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.

making you forget about time. 

you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 

the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.

soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 

in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 

“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"

“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”

“i’m gonna—nghhh!”

jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—

you squirt. 

“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”

“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 

jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 

it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.

“love you.”

“love you too.”

jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.

you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.

“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”

jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.

jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.

“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”

the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.

jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”

“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”

you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”

jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”

“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”

as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.

by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.

“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”

“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."

“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 

“no daddy. only mommy.” 

jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 

you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”

jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 

“good morning, beautiful—”

“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”

“honey!”

jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 

you watch them and can’t help but just feel��� good. relieved and happy. 

it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 

jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 

“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”

tiffany and co. 

you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 

jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 

he looks up at you.

“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”

“jungkook, please understand that—”

“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”

he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 

it’s beautiful. 

“___, will you marry me?”

yes.

you want to say yes.

instead, you say; “what about new york?”

jungkook swallows.

“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”

“jungkook…”

“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”

you take a breath. 

“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.

he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.

“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.

“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

what does it mean to choose?

to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).

you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.

“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?

his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.

you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.

as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.

time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;

for time to be on your side.

for love to be enough.

for the choice to be right.

[wrayah]

wriothesley x fem!reader

prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.

notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)

Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.

"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"

He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.

"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"

"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"

His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.

She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."

Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."

And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.

You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.

Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.

On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.

Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.

Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.

It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.

On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.

He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.

He did almost lose his mind at one point though.

He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.

Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.

"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.

"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.

"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.

He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?

Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.

"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.

"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.

"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.

Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"

You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.

"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.

He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.

"Hands behind your back."

"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.

He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.

You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.

"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.

"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"

You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."

He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.

His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."

You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.

As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.

"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.

"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.

He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.

He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.

"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.

You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.

"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.

He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."

Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."

He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.

You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.

He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."

"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.

He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.

Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.

"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.

He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"

You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.

His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 

“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 

After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.

“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 

“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 

“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.

“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”

You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 

After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.

He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.

He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”

You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 

You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”

Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 

At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.”

© wrayah, 2024

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 21]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4k

ao3 link

“Ahhhh.” 

You open your mouth wide so Doctor Minnie can shine her flashlight down your throat. She hums and haws as she peers in, looking for who knows what, and when she concludes her search, she scribbles on your chart. Your chart is a piece of notebook paper with a wonderfully drawn crayon portrait in the corner, your name carefully written out across the top, and timestamps with detailed notes of each check up you have received today. These notes include squiggles that could be interpreted as cursive and the letters a, m, and q repeated over and over. 

“You needs to drink more water and puts the towel on your ear,” your daughter tells you seriously. It is the same treatment you have gotten all morning, so you are well prepared for it. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

Minnie gives you a big smile, then whirls around to bark orders, “Nurse! We needs more water! Please, thank you!”

Matt is on the other side of the coffee table, sitting cross legged as he manipulates pipe cleaners around popsicle sticks. He and Minnie have been working on an art project for the better part of the morning - between your hourly check ups. He got his own checkup this morning and earned a band-aid on his cheek, but your daughter has been obsessed with making sure you are okay. 

You are in no way complaining over her dotting - you more than understand this is how she is coping with what happened and you are more than happy to receive fake shots and orders to stay sitting on the couch. Whatever makes her feel safe and happy.

You know her father feels the same way. 

He raises himself into standing, the smallest smile forming on his lips as he falls into his role, “Yes, Doctor. How many ccs?”

Minnie rubs her chin in thought, and you have to bite your lip so you won’t start laughing. She’s been so intense playing doctor, and you don’t want to discourage her. You are worried any teasing might upset her and that is the last thing you want to do at the moment, especially given the circumstances.

She finally decides on a number and declares, “Six!”

“Six ccs of water coming right up,” Matt tells her. He plucks your still half-full water bottle from the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen. Mouse watches him go, squinting her little eyes like she’s either judging him or trying to remember something. 

Apparently, it is the latter, as she gasps, then calls after him, “And appy juice!”

Matt gives a dramatic gasp and turns to face the both of you, “And appy juice? Are you sure, Doctor?”

Minnie giggles, clearly amused by her Daddy’s antics. There’s a difference between teasing and playing along, and Matt is king at being Mouse’s partner in crime. You’ve seen a different side of your daughter come out when she’s around him - a little bolder and more sure of herself - and you want nothing more than to encourage that.

“It’s for me!” Your little one says between her laughs and that makes Matt smile brighter.

“Ah, a drink after a hard day's work. Six ccs of water for Mommy and one appy juice for the Doctor.” 

“What do you say, Mouse?”

“Thank you, Nurse!” 

As Matt gets your drinks together, you help Minnie out of her Doctor’s coat and you fuss with folding it as she starts to put her check-up toys back into their bag. She must be getting tired if she is asking for her juice, but she looks completely alert and like she could keep playing for another hour or so before slowing down. She woke up at her normal time this morning, but at some point in the night she wound up in your bed. You don’t blame her at all for that.

You’ve been on your own roller coaster of emotions this morning. 

You woke up in a cold sweat - memories of being strangled flying through your mind - and the only thing that had been able to calm you was Matt’s arm around you. It helped to keep you grounded - remind you that you weren’t alone and that you were safe.

(“I love you.”)

No one can touch you or your baby if he is there and it isn’t some hindbrain ‘man protect woman’ nonsense. 

Matt is a superhero in the most literal sense. 

He has powers and an armored suit and fights bad guys. 

It is hard to wrap your mind around and you have so many questions, but you both agreed to wait until Minnie took her nap to talk. This isn’t a conversation you can have over her head. 

Minnie finishes picking up her toys just as Matt returns from his task. He lets her climb up onto the couch and settle against your side before handing over her juice. Your water gets placed on the table and you thank him before turning your eyes to your daughter.

“What do you want to watch, sweetie?” 

“Penguins,” she answers, right before starting to nurse her juice. You found a video about the life of penguins that is toddler friendly a few days prior and it is quickly becoming a favorite. The documentary is a nice change from the cartoons that usually make up your television time and you are fine to watch it for the upteenth time. 

Matt takes his place on Minnie’s other side, practically squishing her between you, and the three of you begin to quietly learn about the flightless tuxedo wearing birds. The video is a little less than thirty minutes long and by the time it is wrapping up, Mouse’s chin is on her chest, and she is snoring. In a silent agreement, you let Matt take care of putting her into bed for her nap. Though he has done it a few times now, he still cherishes the moment in a way you no longer do.

Your heart beats a little harder when Matt and Minnie disappear down the hallway. Your stomach swirls with anxiety over the talk you know is coming - though in a strange way you are not scared. You trust Matt to tell you the truth, but you are not sure you want to learn those truths. Doors you never even knew existed are opening to you and part of you wants to stay naive to the ongoings around you, but you know you can’t do that.

This is part of Matt’s world, and if he wants to be in Minnie’s, you need to know everything about it.

As you wait for Matt to return, you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths. It does nothing to calm your heart or mind, but it gives you something to focus on. You do not want to work yourself up by overthinking - that would just make things worse for everyone. So you count to five between inhales and exhales until you hear the door to the bedroom close.

(“I love you.”)

It feels like you stop breathing until the cushion beside you dips.

Your anxiety is flaring - your throat feels so tight and there is so much pressure on your chest. You know there isn’t a reason for your body to be reacting like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. You feel like you are trapped under your own worries, and you can’t escape.

“You’re terrified,” Matt says in a dull voice from beside you and you have to pry your eyes open to look at him. He looks so resigned and neutral, and your heart manages to pang for him between being crushed. 

You don’t know what he could possibly be going through - you are finally alone with him, and your mind has decided you need to have an anxiety attack. Does he think you think he’ll hurt you or something just as ridiculous?

You may have only known Matt for a short time, but you trust him. He hasn’t done anything to break that trust and he has shown you he cares. He sat with you in the hospital and stayed with you after until he knew you were okay to be on your own. 

He’s gone out of his way for you on so many occasions. 

He’s made you feel safe.

Wanted.

Loved. 

(“I love you.”)

(“I love you.”)

(“I love you.”)

Your mind is spinning and panicking and everything is so intense, but your mouth, as always, decides to work without permission.

“Will you hold me?”

The words shock you. You’ve never asked anyone to hold you - you generally don’t like to be touched - but when Matt’s arms are around you, the world seems a little more stable.

Matt seems just as taken aback as you are over the request. It takes him a moment to act, but then he chokes out, “Of course,” and opens his arms to you. 

You turn towards each other, you bringing one leg up to tuck under yourself, and slot together. Your arms go around his middle and you press your face into his neck, while one of his hands goes to your hair to hold you in place and the other starts rubbing up and down your spine.

The relief is almost instant. 

You release a long shaky breath and nuzzle yourself closer to him. He smells like your body wash and coffee, and he feels so solid against you. You feel like a shield has wrapped around you and nothing can get to you - not the all the day to day things you worry about like bills and messages you need to respond to nor all the evil things that lurk in the shadows. 

For once in your life, you feel like you're not alone. 

“I’ve got you,” Matt breathes into your ear and you believe him. 

“You’ve got me,” you repeat into his shoulder. You can hear how watery your voice sounds and you tell yourself you won’t cry. 

(“I love you.”)

You fall into a brief silence - you need a moment to recenter yourself and Matt seems to realize that. You feel him press a kiss to the side of your head as he continues to pet you and you have no idea why that helps to soothe your nerves. You let your eyes fall shut and focus on only him.

Once you don’t feel like you’ll get choked up if you start talking, you ask, “Is it okay if we talk like this?”

“Perfectly fine with me,” he whispers against you and you decide to just dive into it. 

“You’re Daredevil.”

“I am,” he confirms. 

“Will you tell me about it? From the start?” 

You feel Matt take a deep breath and to offer him some sort of comfort, you curl your fingers into his shirt, holding onto him a little bit tighter. 

“After I lost my dad and went to St. Agnes, they didn’t know how to deal with me. I didn’t have control over my senses, and I was angry at everything. I still don’t know how, but they found a man, Stick, to come help me - to teach me how to be Blind. He taught me more than that. He focused my senses, showed me I had control over them and how I could use them. And he taught me how to fight.” Matt’s words are steady and firm, but you can feel his heart pounding against you. 

You absorb the words, a frown forming on your lips, “he taught you to fight? As a child?”

He sighs against you, then nods, “Yes. Stick believed there was a war coming between the Hand and the Chaste and they needed soldiers for the Chaste. I’ll…I can tell you more about that later.”

“Okay.”  You want to know more about whatever the Hand and the Chaste are, but you can tell that is an entirely different conversation. One you aren’t quite ready for, yet.

“Stick taught me how to fight and how to use my senses to my advantage. He taught me how to channel my anger. My…my grandmother used to tell me the Devil was in the Murdock boys. And it’s true. I have the Devil in me - all my anger and rage. Stick taught me control. Then he left and I was angry he left, but I kept up my training. I didn’t need to enroll in martial arts classes to be able to learn - I could do it from blocks away. The boxing ring my Dad used to train at let me come in and use the mats and bags and I just kept at it.”

“Were you able to practice with people?” You ask. You know learning things in theory is way different than learning for practicality and fighting doesn’t seem like something you can just know in theory if you are a superhero.

Matt chuckles into your hair, “I got into a lot of fights in the schoolyard. I didn’t put up with bullies and no one wanted to admit I kicked their ass, so I never really got in trouble.”

With what you know of Matt and his personality and sense of justice, that makes perfect sense to you, and you say as much. He kisses your hair again before continuing on.

“When I reached college, I could…understand all the things I was hearing. All of the crime. I did everything I could - legally. I called the cops, I made reports, but more often than not, nothing ever happened. It made me angry - so angry - but my dad never wanted me to fight with my fists. He wanted me to use my head, do things the right way - so I tried. I really tried. For years. Then Foggy and I decided to start our own firm, to help the people in Hell’s Kitchen, really help them, and I couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t listen to the cries of kids being abused by their parents and people getting mugged and my city, the city I love, being poisoned. So, I let the Devil out.”

“And became Daredevil?”

“I did not choose that name,” Matt huffs, “But yes.”

You don’t remember much from when Daredevil first started appearing on the news - you were pregnant the first time you saw him, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You have no idea what he was doing then.

So, you ask. 

“How? How did you let the Devil out?”

Matt doesn’t answer you right away. He noses at your hair and traces his fingers up and down your spine and you have the feeling he’s thinking over his answer.

“I went after all the people poisoning my city. Not just the muggers and abusers. The drug and weapons dealers. The corrupt. There was a man named Fisk who was trying to take over the city, turn it into something it isn’t.”

“I know that name,” you say against him, “I read about it. There were…two cases? Legal ones.”

“Yeah. It was…complicated. It is complicated. We went against him as Nelson and Murdock and I went against him as Daredevil. He’s in prison now and he’ll be staying there,” Matt tells you and you have the feeling you will have to have a whole different discussion about Fisk in the future.

“But what about now? You are still out there fighting.”

“The city still needs protecting.” 

It does, you know it does. Your attack is proof of that. You don’t want to think about it and the hands around your throat, so you press your face more into Matt’s neck and force yourself to fast-forward through the memory to something relevant to your current talk.

“You work with other…superheroes?” You ask. “Like Frank?”

“Frank isn’t a superhero and neither am I,” Matt scoffs, “But yes..I’m…learning to work with others. It’s not something I’m used to yet.”

“Tell me about them.”

He hums against you, then starts slowly, “You met Frank. He’s…we don’t get along. We have very different philosophies about how things should work, but he’s a good man. I’d rather be with him than against him and…I trust him to protect the people I care about. He’d fight tooth and nail for Karen - he has, and if I had to choose someone, besides myself, to protect you and Minnie, it would be him.” 

Again, you believe Matt. From what you have seen of Frank, and not the Punisher, you think that trust is well earned. If Matt trusts him, you think you should too.

“And there’s Jessica. She is a private investigator and….very strong. Luke is also strong and..uh..bulletproof. He’s dating Claire, who you also met, she’s a nurse who got wrapped up in everything and helps when we get injured. And then Danny and Colleen. They are…” he trails off, like he’s unsure how to describe them and you do not push. You can’t imagine having to describe superheroes.

“What about Foggy and Karen?”

Matt shakes his head, “I try to not involve them in Daredevil things, but it ends up overlapping. They want to help, but I want them to be safe.” He pauses and you can feel him swallow, like he’s nervous. “I tell them everything, though. I used to think I had to keep my lives separate - one as Matt Murdock and one as Daredevil. I’ve tried to live as only Matt and I’ve tried to live as only Daredevil, but neither worked. I’m still finding the balance of living as both, and they help me. They give me rules to follow, make sure the plans I come up with are sound and that all options are considered. That is what I want with you. I want to be open. I want to be able to tell you everything and not keep secrets. I have seen what that does to people in my life and I don’t want that with you.”

You take in his words and let them mull over in your mind. 

You can’t ask Matt to stop being Daredevil - you know you can’t. You heard what he said about why he needed to be Daredevil, and you understand that. He can’t sit by and do nothing, and by what he is telling you, he’s trying to be smart about it. He works with people to protect the city - to protect you. Yes, it scares you about all the risks he is taking and how they will translate into your life, but ultimately, the decision is his. If he wanted to keep you in the dark about everything, it would be a different story, but he doesn’t seem to want that. That makes it easier to accept and process - having as many pieces of the puzzle as you can helps you see the whole picture. 

You shift slightly in his arms, tucking yourself even closer to him, and ask, “What are you working on now? With Frank?”

Again, he doesn’t answer right away. You let him think over his words as you process. Your anxiety has definitely decreased - you feel like you can breathe and that things are going to be manageable. You can speak with Foggy and Karen and get their perspective on things and it can help you come up with a game plan. 

Having a plan is step one in everything being okay.

(“I love you.”)

“Jess, Frank, and I are…,” Matt starts slowly, “trying to help some street kids. They live in the sewers and don't trust the System or cops, but a few of them have gone missing and one has been killed, and they are scared. There's been guys in suits lurking near one of their hang outs and they don't appear in any government database, so we've been trying to track them down.”

Horror runs through you at his words. Someone has been hurting kids? Minnie’s face flashes through your mind and you press yourself closer to Matt. 

“Street kids?”

“Mostly teens,” Matt amends. “I gave them information about St. Agnes but I more than get why they don't trust it. The System is horrible. The sewers are the only place they feel safe.” You feel him lick his lips again, then to your surprise, his voice changes from serious to almost fond. “They have a tent city. They let us come down there and bring supplies last week. Blankets and food and stuff. Frank got them a cellphone, so they'll be able to contact us if anything happens.” 

Your mind spins at the idea of a bunch of kids living in the sewers. You knew it happened - New York is full of homeless people - but you never thought about it before. Guilt plagues you and you can't help but ask, “Can we help in other ways?”

Matt shakes his head, “Not in the ways you are thinking. We're going to find these guys and put a stop to whatever they are doing and right now that's the best we can do for them. They don't want to come up to the surface and if we try to force them, they'll move and still be in danger. After they know they can trust us and we put a stop to what is happening, we can start the next steps.”

“You'll protect them?” You ask, wanting to hear him say it.

“The kids may be under the streets of Hell's Kitchen, but they are still mine to protect.” His arms tighten around you, and you feel yourself melt against his chest, “And you are mine to protect.”

(“I love you.”)

“How do we protect you?” You ask, wanting to help in some way.

“Like this,” he hums, his fingers tangling into your hair a bit. “By reminding me what I am fighting for. Giving me a reason to live. I’ve been in the depths of Hell, just wanting to give up - give my life over to the Devil and go until my body stopped. I’ve been bloody and broken and alone. I don’t want that again. I want to be here with you. With Minnie. You’re my reason to get back up.”

(“I love you.”)

You press your face flush against his neck, your cheeks heating up at words. “Should I get a better first aid kit? Take CPR classes?”

He chuckles against you, and you feel it vibrate down into his chest, “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He pauses then tells you quietly, “Minnie has seen me in my armor, but I’m going to be doing my best to avoid getting injured in a way she can see. I have been working more on my defense - something I never really practiced.”

At the mention of your daughter, you pull back so you can look Matt in the face. Talking where you don’t need to look at his face has been helpful in calming your anxiety, but when it comes to Minnie, you need to look him in his sightless eyes.

“Are you going to train Minnie -”

“No.” Matt cuts you off before you can get the question out. “I’ll teach her how to cartwheel and other fun things, but I will never teach her to fight. I think everyone should take a defensive course to learn to get away, but I don’t want her to punch. I don’t want this anger inside of her. Minnie doesn’t have the Devil in her, and I won’t be the one to put him in her.”

You search his face and know he is telling the truth. You want your daughter to grow up to be a good person, to have as much passion as Matt does about helping the world, but the idea of her suiting up and fighting crime terrifies you. You are glad Matt feels the same way.

“Will you teach me?” You ask after a hesitant moment. “I was pretty abysmal at defending myself.”

He raises his eyebrows at the question, “You want to learn how to defend yourself?”

You shake your head, then lick your lips before dropping your voice just a touch, “I want to protect the people I care about, too.”

Matt tugs you forward gently until your foreheads are touching. You close your eyes again and let yourself start to smile.

“I’ll teach you whatever you want to learn.”

(“I love you.”)

--

a/n: we're over 100k words :')

--

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[the-winter-spider]

Good Guy | S.H

Word count: 1k

Warnings: None? Angst?

A/N: Yall i havent posted in ages, im still very much active reading everyone elses writings buuut im deciding to go thru and post everything i have in my docs, maybe finally fix my master list 💀🤭 we’ll see! Enjoy

—

You were sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over as you turned to look over your shoulder at him snoring peacefully while you were holding your breath trying to savour this moment before the reality of what happened last night crushed you.

You knew what it was, it was ‘the world is most likely ending and the girl ive been in love with since high school still doesn’t love me back’ sex. Because there was no logical way Steve had feelings for you of any sort that would make him want to tear your clothes off and litter your bruised and scarred body with such tender kisses, whispering the sweetest of words in your ear, then proceed to hold you in his arms while he falls asleep.

There was no way in any world upside right or down that it was anything more than that.

You sighed, finally pushing yourself off the bed, tip-toeing around his room to gather the pieces of your clothing, ushering as quickly and quietly to his bathroom as you could. You wanted to avoid the mirror so bad, you were disgusted with yourself, not for sleeping with him, no but for letting your self think for a mere second that it was anything but sex to him. In all honesty it was probably just an itch he wanted to scratch, you were probably just a flavour of ice cream he was lingering on for a while something no one else in their right mind would pick but once you’ve tried all the other flavours you were the only one left.

Pathetic. That's all you were, you slipped off his boxers letting your tears hit the ground with them. The cotton fabric catches your salty waters as they hit the tile.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid” you whispered to yourself pulling on own clothes, before sliding out of his room and house.

The morning spring air hit you refreshingly as you closed your eyes, stopping to gather your thoughts for a brief moment, steadying yourself and the whirlwind of emotions going through your head.

You knew you had to hurry home and change to be ready to meet at the Wheeler's house for 9:00am sharp to discuss your next moves with Vecna, and arriving with Steve while you were still in yesterday’s clothes would raise suspicion, questions and leave you open for friendly banter and teasing but more importantly you didnt wanna still be at Steve’s house when he woke up, you couldn't handle seeing the pure regret in his eyes, the shame that would be radiating off of him, surely that would be your tipping point.

You looked at your watch, 9:00AM “Shit” you mumbled, downing the rest of your coffee like it was a shot at a party, you quickly tied the laces on your converse before running across the street to the Wheelers.

You let out a huff of hair, running your hand through your hair before knocking, the door whipped open revealing Robin “Oh! I'm so glad to see you” She grabbed your arm, yanking you inside, “We've been here all but maybe 10 minutes and everyone is already arguing” She threw her hands up “Can you believe that? it's too early for this!” You reached the door to the basement as Robin loudly started troting down “Y/n is finally here!”

You reached the bottom of the stairs giving a small wave and smile looking everywhere but the brown haired boy in the corner whose eyes you could feel piercing into you “Hi” your voice quiet before manurving your way to the side, far away from Steve.

You were sitting legs crossed on the wheelers couch, you could hear a buzzing surrounding you, squeezing your eyes shut, rubbing your temples you weren’t sure if at this point if it was the headache you’ve been nursing for a few days, the lack of sleep, or all the tears you cried this morning in Steve’s bathroom. All the voices of your friends overlapping one another mushing into a single sound.

tick, tick, tick, tick

“So we now know Max is one of Vecna’s targets, we just have to.…” Nancy spoke her voice trailing off as you tuned it out. Their chatter immersed into one inconvenient noise to you, the pounding in your head overpowering the conversation no one cared that you weren't taking part in. Even though you have always been more of a listener, never giving suggestions because someone always had a better one. You were just here to do as you were told and make sure no one else got hurt because they all had families, parents, people who loved them, you didn’t. And if one of your dumb ideas led to the possibility of one of them getting hurt or worse ending up dead, you would never be able to forgive yourself, so you stayed out of it.

You found picking at your pant leg was a better distraction, wasting all the energy you had on making the hole in your pants bigger than it already was, revealing a scar on your knee that you obtained last year running from russians, when for a brief moment the buzzing stopped and your sense zeroed in on the trickling cool wetness you felt on your upper lip and your eyes growing wide as you watched a single droplet of blood land on your jeans.

You moved your hand to catch the rest of the droplets when you looked up your eyes met Max’s, her eyebrows raised in shock before they softened as she watched a tear run down your cheek “Guys” she spoke, her voice could barely be heard over Steve arguing with Nancy that he didn’t want to be a babysitter anymore “GUYS!” she screamed even louder as all eyes turned to her

Steve and Nancy both turned their heads to her yelling “What?!”

Max lifted up her hand, directing her finger to point directly at you, suddenly one by one all pairs of eyes turned to you

“Holy shit” Dustin muttered “Holy shit!” He got louder as he pieced it together.

“No” Steve froze “No, no, no” He was panicking suddenly the room felt heavy, the air was leaving his lungs as he watched blood dripping from your nose.

[me-loving-woso]

And all the days after that.

Hi everyone! So this is the last part of Today. Tomorrow. I hope you will enjoy this! Let me know what you think about it!

It was night when Aitana first arrived at the hospital. She had multiple missed calls from Ciro, heightening her worry. She quickly approached the nurse at the entrance of the oncology department. “I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you a relative or family?” the nurse asked.

“I’m her wife,” Aitana blurted out, the first thing that came to mind. It had a nice ring to it.

“I need an ID.” She handed over her ID.

“A real one, as if I’m supposed to believe you’re actually Aitana Bonmati.” For the first time, the nurse looked up from her computer and stared at Aitana. “Oh, you are actually her! Thank you for all the trophies! Y/L/N is in room 309.”

Aitana sprinted to your room. Peering through the glass walls, she spotted Ciro inside with you. He turned to Aitana and exited your room.

“How is she? Is she sleeping? Is she alive? Is she—”

“Aitana, you’re rambling. You’re sleep-deprived and extremely worried. The surgery went well. The cancer was a bit larger than expected, but they managed to remove it completely.”

“Her voice?”

“We’ll know when she wakes up.” He turned to look at you. “Go inside.”

Aitana nodded and gently opened the door, slipping inside as quietly as possible. You lay in the bed, a pale but peaceful expression on your face. She took a moment to absorb the sight of you, relief flooding her knowing the surgery was successful.

She approached your bedside, her heart aching at the sight of the tubes and monitors attached to you. Gently, she reached out and took your hand in hers, feeling the warmth of your skin. The room was silent, save for the soft beeping of the heart monitor.

Minutes passed like hours as Aitana watched over you, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She couldn't shake the fear of what might happen when you woke up, but she also couldn't deny the immense love and admiration she felt for you. You had faced this battle with incredible strength and courage, and she was determined to support you no matter what.

Aitana fell asleep sitting next to you, her head on your lap and your hand in hers.

-

In the morning, your eyes finally fluttered open. You looked around the room, your gaze eventually landing on Aitana. You squeezed her hand, hoping to wake her up. Her head shot up in discomfort, but as soon as she saw you, she gave you a soft, encouraging smile, squeezing your hand gently.

"Hey, beautiful," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry and sore. Aitana quickly reached for a cup of water with a straw and brought it to your lips. You took a few sips, wincing slightly at the discomfort.

"Take it easy," she said softly. "Don't try to talk just yet."

You nodded, understanding. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so proud of you," Aitana continued, her eyes filling with tears. "You did it. You're so strong."

You couldn't speak, so you just caressed her cheeks, letting your eyes convey your feelings.

“I’m going to call the doctor. I’ll be right back.” She kissed your temple and left the room.

A few minutes later, she returned with your oncologist and Ciro in tow. Aitana resumed her place, holding your hand, while the doctor performed your check-ups. Everything seemed fine. The incision on your throat was healing properly. Now came the moment of truth: testing your voice.

Dr. Martinez smiled warmly at you. "You did very well, Y/N. Now, the moment of truth. I want you to try saying something, anything at all."

Aitana's hand squeezed yours reassuringly. You took a deep breath, feeling the slight pull and discomfort from the incision on your throat. Slowly, you tried to form a word, any word, in your mind. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first. Fear gripped you, but Aitana's gentle presence gave you strength.

"Don't rush it," Dr. Martinez encouraged softly. "Take your time."

You tried again, focusing on the word "hi." A faint sound, almost like a whisper, escaped your lips. It was weak, but it was there. You saw the relief and joy in Aitana's eyes as she held your hand tighter.

"That's great, Y/N," Dr. Martinez said, smiling. "It's a good sign that you can make any sound at all. With time and practice, your voice should improve."

Tears welled up in your eyes. You managed to croak out a hoarse "thank you," barely more than a whisper, but it was enough. Aitana leaned in and kissed you softly, her eyes shining with pride and love.

"We'll work on this together," she whispered. "Every step of the way."

Ciro, standing nearby, gave you a thumbs-up and a supportive smile. "You're a fighter, Y/N. We're all here for you."

Dr. Martinez finished his check-up and gave you some instructions for your recovery. "You'll need to rest your voice as much as possible, but I want you to practice speaking a little bit each day."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination. You were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing you had the unwavering support of the people you loved.

As Dr. Martinez left the room, Aitana stayed by your side, her hand never leaving yours. She sat back down, her eyes never wavering from yours. The room fell into a comfortable silence, both of you just soaking in the relief and the promise of a future together.

"You did great," Aitana said softly, her thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "I knew you could do it."

You squeezed her hand in return, a small smile forming on your lips. "Thanks for being here," you managed to whisper, though it was strained and barely audible.

Aitana's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I wouldn't be anywhere else," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

The hours passed quietly. Occasionally, Aitana would read to you from her phone, recounting funny anecdotes from her teammates to keep your spirits up. You communicated with nods, gestures, and the occasional whisper, growing more confident with each passing attempt.

When night fell, the hospital room was bathed in darkness. Aitana was preparing to sleep uncomfortably in the chair next to you once again. You took her phone from her and typed: 'Go home.'

“I’m not leaving until you are leaving.” She was stubborn, and you didn’t have the strength to fight back.

You made space for her on the bed and typed on her phone, 'Cuddles?'

“You know I’ll never say no to that.” She slowly sat on the small bed and rested by your side, planting a kiss on your clothed shoulder.

“Thank you,” you barely whispered.

-

The next morning, you woke up to find Aitana still by your side, her hand still holding yours. You reached out with your free hand and gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face. She stirred and woke up, her eyes meeting yours with a sleepy but affectionate smile.

"Good morning," she whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

You nodded, managing a soft, "Better." Your voice was still weak, but the improvement was noticeable.

Aitana's smile widened. "That's great to hear. Today’s a new day, and we'll take it one step at a time."

That morning you started doing some speaking and breathing exercises to help your vocal chords to fully heal, which you didn’t think would be difficult since you never had any problem talking. Needless to say, it was more challenging than expected. It felt as if you had to learn to talk all over again.

Aitana’s unwavering support was frustrating at times. You tried not to take your frustration out on her, but sometimes it was difficult. Thankfully, as the days went by, your voice gradually began to improve.

Progress was slow but steady, with Aitana's constant encouragement helping you push through the tough moments. She celebrated every milestone with you, no matter how small—whether it was successfully pronouncing a tricky word or managing a full sentence without pain, she was there, cheering you on.

-

-

You remembered perfectly the day you spoke to your oncologist before checking out of the hospital.

Aitana and Ciro were having breakfast, leaving you alone for one of the few times. As you changed back into your normal clothes, the doctor walked into the room.

“Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks to you,” you replied, smiling gratefully as you sat down on the bed to tie your shoes.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think it’s best if we do another round of chemo, just to be sure. We completely removed the tumor, but that doesn’t mean all the cancer cells are gone.”

Your heart sank a little. You had hoped the surgery would be the end of it. “Another round?”

“Yes, I recommend it to ensure we’ve eradicated any remaining cancer cells. It’s a precautionary measure, but it’s important.”

You nodded, taking in the information. “Okay. How long will the next round be?”

“About six weeks. By April, you should be done with everything, but we’ll monitor you closely. If all goes well, this could be the last step in your treatment.”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Alright, let’s do it. I’ll talk to Aitana and Ciro.”

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re strong, Y/N. You’ve come this far, and you’re going to get through this.”

As you walked out of the room, you saw Aitana and Ciro in the cafeteria. They both looked up, concern etching their faces as they saw your serious expression. You sat down with them, taking Aitana’s hand in yours.

“Ready to go? I can't wait to go home.” You sat next to Aitana and silently asked if you could take a sip of her matcha.

“Did you talk to the doctor?” Aitana asked.

“Yes, I did,” you replied, savoring the comforting taste of the matcha. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Aitana and Ciro both leaned in, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“The doctor wants me to do another round of chemo,” you began, feeling the weight of the news settle in. “It’s just to make sure we’ve got all the cancer cells. They said it should be about six weeks. By April, I should be done with everything.”

Aitana’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself. “Whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay,” she said, her voice steady though her expression turned somber.

The drive home was filled with a mixture of quiet contemplation and light conversation. Aitana and Ciro did their best to keep the mood light, discussing their plans for the next few weeks and how they would help you through this next phase of treatment.

When you arrived home, Aitana helped you settle in, taking your things to the bedroom and folding your clothes neatly into a pile, while you complained that she wouldn’t let you do anything.

“I’m not on the verge of dying Tani! I can do some stuff.”

“I know, I know,” Aitana replied, smiling gently. “But let me pamper you a little, okay? It makes me feel better too.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your chest. Her care was both endearing and comforting.

Once everything was settled, Ciro left for the men's game at Montjuic, leaving you and Aitana alone for the first time in a while.

You knew she had missed some practice sessions and two games to be with you during chemo and surgery. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was missing out on her best years to be with you.

As you sat together on the couch, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. The TV was on, but you weren't really watching it. Instead, you found yourself lost in thought, glancing occasionally at Aitana, who seemed perfectly content just being by your side.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.” Her gaze softened as she looked at you.

“You won’t miss any more games because of me.”

“I only missed two games, and it wasn’t a big deal. I wouldn't have played anyway, and I got to stay with you.” She shrugged happily.

“But football is your life. I understand you want to support me, but you should focus on your career.”

Aitana sighed, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Y/N. You’re my partner. I know these months have been hard, especially for you, but I’ve never been happier than when I’m by your side.”

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, but the guilt still lingered. “I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me. I don’t want you to look back and regret missing opportunities because of me.”

She smiled softly, her eyes twinkling. “I won’t regret it. Being here for you is something I’ll never regret. We’ve known each other for what... six months? And yet, from the first moment I saw you... okay, maybe the second time... I knew I wanted you in my life. Football shouldn’t be my only priority; I should also take time for myself. I would miss an entire season if it meant being able to be with you. I love you, Cari.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by her words and the depth of her commitment. “I love you too, Tani. I just don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” she said, her voice firm and tender. “You make me better, happier, and... honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Thank you for being here, for loving me.”

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently, her lips warm and reassuring. “Always, Cari. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.”

---

Two weeks into chemo, the treatments hit you hard. You started throwing up more and couldn’t walk more than ten steps without feeling pain.

Aitana had started the busiest period of the season, so she was often away. Thankfully, Ciro, Eva, and your other friends from work were great. They stayed with you during treatments and always brought a smile to your face.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, you were lying on the couch, feeling utterly exhausted. Eva was beside you, scrolling through her phone, while Ciro was in the kitchen making tea.

“Hey, look at this,” Eva said, nudging you gently. She showed you a photo of a Bernese puppy. It was adorable, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you felt like crap.

“That’s cute,” you said weakly.

“He kinda looks like Ares when he was a puppy!” she exclaimed excitedly, showing you the picture again. Ares had been your childhood dog. You’d always had big dogs in your home; since he passed, you hadn’t thought about getting another one.

Just then, the front door opened, and Aitana walked in. Her face lit up when she saw you, but you could see the worry in her eyes.

“Hey, Cari,” she said, coming over to give you a gentle hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light.

Aitana sat down beside you, taking your hand in hers, you immediately leaned into her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. Training ran late.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured her. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

Ciro came in with the tea and handed you a cup. “Here you go. Chamomile, to help you relax.”

“Thanks, Ciro,” you said, grateful for his support.

The four of you sat together, chatting and trying to keep the mood light. Aitana was just content to be able to listen to you and Eva joking about adopting the puppy from the photo.

“So when I ask you to adopt a puppy, you say no, but when Eva showed you a puppy picture, you immediately said yes?” Aitana pouted, crossing her arms childishly.

“Eva was only joking! And honestly, as much as I love dogs, we don’t have the space nor the time for a puppy. And you can’t even take care of yourself! I need to remind you of everything!”

Aitana pouted even more dramatically, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “I can totally take care of myself! I just like you reminding me of things because it means you care.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Eva laughed, enjoying the banter between you two. “Well, if you ever change your mind about the puppy, let me know. I know someone.” She winked.

Needless to say, you didn’t change your mind about the puppy thing.

---

Your last chemo had been really emotional for you. It was April, and all of your friends, Ciro and Aitana were busy, so you were alone. As you sat in the treatment room, the familiar hum of machines and the sterile smell of the hospital enveloped you. The nurses, who had become like family to you over these past months, tried to lift your spirits with their kind words and warm smiles.

As the session progressed, you couldn’t help but reflect on everything you had been through. The fear, the pain, the moments of despair, but also the love, the support, and the small victories that had kept you going. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over you. You were almost at the end of this grueling journey, but the emotions were overwhelming.

Just as you were about to succumb to the loneliness, your phone buzzed. It was a video call from Aitana. You quickly wiped your tears and answered.

“Hey, Cari,” she greeted you, her face lighting up the screen. She was walking outside in the parking lot of the training grounds. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you today. How are you holding up?”

“I’m good. I just want to get this over with. How was training? You ready for Chelsea?”

“Definitely. I cannot wait for another Champion’s League night. They are the best.” She got inside the car.

“Where are you going now?”

“To see you,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer.

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing not to argue. “I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

In those ten minutes, you had finished your chemotherapy and went with your oncologists to do your last tests to check if you still had cancer. Unfortunately, you would know the results of the tests this afternoon.

You were done very quickly, so you told Aitana to wait for you in the parking lot.

As you walked out of the hospital, the sun was shining brightly, a stark contrast to the anxiety that weighed heavily on your shoulders. You spotted Aitana's car and saw her standing outside, leaning against it with a concerned expression on her face.

“I hate when you are concerned; your face scrunches up in a weird way.” You walked up to her and snaked your hands around her waist for a hug. Her face softened as she held you tighter.

“Cari, how are you feeling?” She pulled down affectionately your beanie, which was hers, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You were about to tell her that you would know if your cancer was receding this afternoon, but you opted not to, as you didn’t want to give her false hopes. “I’m good. What do you think about doing something different this afternoon? We always stay at home.”

“Well, if you want, Ingrid, Mapi, Frido, and Esmee are all going to this new art exhibit downtown. They needed to go because the artist is the daughter of one of our sponsors, so we are basically forced to go.” Aitana suggested, her eyes lighting up. “We could join them. It might be a nice change of pace.”

You turned to her, raising an eyebrow, “Why didn’t you go, if you were forced to?”

“I wanted to stay with my Cari.” You raised your eyebrow even more skeptically, “Okay, I didn’t want to go. But my friends have been bugging me nonstop about me going; the artist is so annoying and so-“

“You played the ‘my girlfriend has cancer’ card?” You chuckled.

“Am I an asshole if I did?”

“Just remember that your girlfriend might not have cancer in the near future, so you’ll have to come up with another excuse.”

“Well, I’ll just force you to come with me to keep me company.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’ll see about that.”

In the car, Aitana quickly called Mapi to explain that you were coming too.

When you arrived, you were greeted by Aitana’s friends, who were excited to see you out and about.

They all hugged you gently, making you go on your tippy toes, to hug them back. As you all walked inside the art exhibition, you took Aitana’s hand and waited for the group to move forward. “You really have to explain your thing for tall women to me,” you whispered teasingly.

“I don’t have a thing for tall women, otherwise I wouldn’t be dating you,” she smirked playfully, earning a playful smack on the arm from you.

“All of your friends are at least five centimeters taller than you.”

“Yeah, it’s true.” She couldn’t deny what you were saying, but she didn't give any further explanations.

As soon as you saw the paintings, you already knew it was going to be a very lackluster art exhibition. It was really bad, but somehow they felt oddly familiar.

“It’s so beautiful!” Mapi said ironically.

“I just don’t understand if the artist is actually that bad or if it’s just her artistic vision,” Esmee wondered aloud, trying to make sense of it.

You looked into another room of the exhibition and saw a painting that you had already seen. You turned to Aitana’s friends and chuckled, “The artist is just really bad, believe me. And let’s just hope that I don’t have to see her.”

Isabel Vallejo went to Uni with you, and you couldn’t stand each other; you always had a very competitive and passive-aggressive relationship. Eva would always have a good laugh when you both saw each other. You immediately texted her to tell her.

“Do you know her?”

“We went to uni together. We never got along.”

As if on cue, Isabel walked into the room, her eyes widening slightly when she saw you. She quickly masked her surprise with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Y/N, what a surprise to see you here. I didn’t expect to see you in a place this refined.”

You forced a smile. “Isabel, it’s been a while. I see you’re still making... bold choices.”

“Art needs boldness. At least I create something. You just apply some product to some painting and call it a day.”

You were about to speak when Aitana grabbed your hand, trying to calm you down. Isabel lowered her gaze to look at both of your hands and smirked, “You have a cute girlfriend, best footballer in the world. I hope you keep her satisfied, or else she might be looking elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I do keep her well satisfied, just like I did with Maria, remember?” You smirked, fully knowing that your words would bother her. You simply walked away and returned to your group with Aitana. Round 1 was won by you.

“What the hell just happened?” Mapi chuckled, looking at you.

“We went to Uni together; we always talk like this.”

“I didn’t know you had this in you, Cari. You are always so polite,” Aitana chuckled, making you turn to her.

“She’s so annoying, makes me want to punch her,” you sighed, frustrated.

“Who’s Maria, by the way?” Ingrid asked you, making you blush lightly.

“We dated the same girl; she broke up with Isabel to be with me. She didn’t take it that well.” Your face reddened. “And that’s not the worst part. We lived next to each other, so whenever Maria visited me, Isabel could hear everything.”

Mapi and Ingrid burst into laughter, and even Aitana couldn't help but giggle. “No wonder she’s still bitter,” Mapi said, shaking her head.

“I never thought I’d see the day Y/N had a love triangle scandal,” Aitana teased, nudging you playfully.

“You know what’s the worst thing?… I don’t regret it!”

“Wooo!” You made Aitana’s friend group burst out laughing.

After the art exhibition, you all decided to get coffee at a place nearby. While you were walking to the coffee shop, you got a phone call. You had forgotten that your doctor needed to call you that afternoon. You stopped in your tracks.

“Tani, can you take my order? I have to take this.”

“Is everything okay?” Her face scrunched up.

You placed a hand on her chest and kissed her reassuringly. “Go inside.” She nodded reluctantly, and you watched her join the others before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Dr. Martinez. I have your test results.”

You felt your heart race, a mix of anticipation and fear swirling inside you. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I have good news,” Dr. Martinez said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Your tests came back clear. There are no signs of cancer.”

A wave of relief washed over you, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Dr. Martinez. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. Take this time to recover and enjoy your life. We’ll continue with regular check-ups, but for now, celebrate this victory.”

“I will. Thank you again.”

You ended the call and stood there for a moment, letting the news sink in. You were cancer-free.

You didn’t know why, but you burst out laughing. After six months, you were finally free.

After taking your order, Aitana quickly instructed Mapi to take the two machas to the table and wait for them. Then she rushed outside to check up on you. You had just finished your phone call.

“Cari, is everything okay?”

“I’m cancer-free.”

Her eyes widened. “You are not joking, are you?” You shook your head.

“We are done, Tani.” She quickly wrapped you in an embrace, lifting you up in the air, making you giggle.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me!” She put you down, still hugging you, placing her forehead on your shoulder. You felt her shaking, so you gently pushed her away to look at her. It was the first time you had actually seen her cry.

“Don’t cry, meu amor. We did it.” You wiped her tears with your thumbs.

“They are happy tears. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“I love you, Tani. Today. Tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.” She finished the sentence for you.

You hugged her once again and then went inside the coffee shop, sitting next to your girlfriend. She wouldn’t take her eyes off you, giving you a lovesick look that made her teammates give her a disgusted look.

“Stop it, Aitana.” You poked your finger in her ear, making her snap out of her daze.

“Sorry. I’m just happy.”

“We just got some good news, and Aitana can’t act like a normal functioning adult.” You teased her. “I’m officially cancer-free.”

“Oh my god! I’m so happy for you!” Frido rounded the table to hug you, spurring the others to do the same thing.

You stayed with them for about another ten minutes before you remembered that you had to tell Ciro about the news, so Aitana offered to bring you home.

As soon as you saw Ciro and told him the news, he brought you in a big bear hug and didn’t let you go until he spurred Aitana to join the hug.

-

The next few weeks ahead, you started having more energy. You had lost a lot of weight when you had cancer, so with the advice of the doctor, you started going to the gym.

At first, you went with Eva, but then you figured out that you two didn’t work well as ‘gym bros’. So you tried going with Aitana, thinking that since she was already fit, she would give you motivation to push yourself. That didn’t work either.

Seeing your girlfriend with just a sports bra and some Nike shorts did things to you that wouldn’t make you focus. You thought about those thighs and shoulders way too much. Finding some excuse, you then told Aitana that you didn’t want to go to the gym with her anymore. She was sad, but after some coaxing, which meant a lot of kisses, she eventually agreed to help find someone else.

You were out for drinks with Aitana’s teammates when you were secretly having a cigarette with Alexia, and this topic surfaced.

"So I am trying to find someone to go to the gym with," you explained, taking a drag from your cigarette. “My best friend just goes to the gym to talk with people, so I tried with Aitana-”

“Never go to the gym with your girlfriend, you just don’t focus. I learned that the hard way.” She explained with a sheepish smile, making you nod in agreement. “Besides all that, I’m glad that you can get back to your normal life. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Reina. It means a lot coming from you.” You nudged her teasingly, earning an eye roll from her.

“I might know someone who would love to go to the gym with you. She’s not a footballer, nor into any other sport.”

Intrigued, you leaned in closer. "Oh? Who?”

“Olga, my girlfriend. She loves meeting new people and her gym buddy just moved out. If you want, I can ask her.” You could see Alexia’s eyes sparkle when she talked about Olga. You wondered if you did the same thing when you talked about your Tani. Spoiler alert: You did.

“If it’s not a problem for you, I would love to.”

“Well, she should be here any moment. I’ll ask her when she arrives.”

As you and Alexia continued to chat, you felt a mix of excitement and relief. Finding the right gym partner was crucial for keeping your motivation high and ensuring you stayed on track with your fitness goals.

Just as you were about to take another drag from your cigarette, you saw Alexia's face light up. "Oh, there she is!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically.

You turned to see a woman approaching, her warm smile immediately putting you at ease. "Olga, this is my friend, Y/n, and also Aitana’s girlfriend." Alexia introduced you. "We were just talking about how you're looking for a new gym buddy."

Olga's smile widened. “Ale told me a lot about you!”

“Good things I hope.”

“Besides the fact that you both only smoke when the other one is around, she’s been saying only good stuff.” You hid your face in embarrassment, tossing the cigarette away with embarrassed.

"Hey, it's a social thing," Alexia said, trying to laugh it off.

Olga chuckled. “It’s not good for you, but you my girl, are one stubborn woman, so I won’t tell you what to do.” She said exasperated, they looked so cute, like a married couple almost. “So, do you want a gym buddy?” She turned to you again.

"Yeah, if you are up to it. I’m kinda out of shape, so I don’t want to stop you from having a good work out,” you replied.

“Don’t worry about it, Ale told me about your situation and I'm happy to help. We'll take it at your pace and make sure you get back into shape without overdoing it," Olga reassured you with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Olga. I really appreciate it," you said, feeling more at ease. "When do you usually go to the gym?"

"I usually go in the mornings, but I can be flexible. How about we start tomorrow morning and see how it goes?" Olga suggested.

"Sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a surge of motivation.

-

The next day when you came back from the gym, you decided to go to Aitana’s house, since it was one of the few off days she had.

She was sitting on the couch intently reading a book when you entered her home with the pair of keys she had given you a couple of weeks before. As soon as she saw you enter, she put away her book and walked up to you, greeting you with a kiss.

“Hi, Cari, how was the gym?”

You huffed and sat down on the couch, waiting for her to join you. “I didn’t know that Olga was that shredded?! She looks like she goes to the gym every day!”

“I thought you knew that,” Aitana said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I didn’t know! I found out later. By the way, she’s so nice and positive, but it’s so frustrating doing exercises with her! We were doing some arm exercises, and when we were done, she started to flex her arms and spurred me on to do it too. Her arms were so muscly, but when I did it: MY ARMS WERE JUST FLAT.” You pulled up your sleeve and showed her, your bicep almost non-existent.

Aitana burst out laughing. You gave her a glare while crossing your arms and pouting, which only made her laugh harder.

She eventually stopped laughing and tried to turn serious, but a playful smile still lingered on her lips. She maneuvered your body to make you sit on her lap. “In fact, I happen to love your flat arms. They might not fend off any enemies, but I do love them, just like I love every part of you. And you’ve lost a lot of mass in these months. It’s okay to feel a little weak, ya know.”

You sighed, leaning into her. “I know, I know. It’s just frustrating sometimes.”

Aitana kissed your temple. “You’re doing amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Remember, it’s not about how you look but how far you’ve come and where you’re going. You're taking back your life in your own hands, and that should be your biggest priority right now.”

“I know, I know.”

“But if you don’t like going to the gym with her, you can still come with me. I still don’t know why you don’t want to.”

You blush lightly, making Aitana turn her head curiously. “I don’t want to go to the gym with you.”

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No no, you could never. You are always so focused and let’s just say that you distract me.” You whispered the last part embarrassed.

Aitana raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, I distract you, do I?" she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You buried your face in her shoulder, muttering, "Yes, okay? You're too attractive, and it’s impossible to focus on anything else. Do you like hearing that?”

She laughed softly, stroking your hair. “Oh, I love it! Well, I can't help being irresistibly distracting. And you’ve never seen me naked…”

“Aren’t we cocky this afternoon?”

Aitana laughed again, a warm sound that made your heart flutter. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I can’t help it if my girlfriend finds me irresistible.”

You raise your eyebrow, “Well then I’ll let you in on a small secret.” You began kissing her neck where you knew she loved it, “When my woman gets too cocky, I like to put her back into her place.”

Aitana's eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief, her smile never fading. "And how do you plan to do that?" she asked, her voice a playful challenge.

You stopped kissing her neck and looked into her eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. "Well, I have my ways," you said, your tone teasing. "But it usually starts with making sure she's completely focused on me.” You placed a finger under her chin and slightly lift her head to look at you.

“And when I have her full attention, I’d want to kiss her until I know that she doesn’t think she’s in control anymore.” She smirked not fully believing what you were telling her. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never wear that cocky grin ever again.”

You pressed your lips onto hers into a passionate kiss. As the seconds went by, the kiss became more impatient and sloppy. Her hands went inside your shirt, feeling your skin in an attempt to make you get even closer to her. You could feel that she was getting lost in the moment, so you immediately stopped, biting her lower lip in the process. She had her eyes still closed, then she blocked twice screeching up her nose. “Why did you stop?”

You stood up from her lap and offered your hand. She took it, and you led her to her bedroom. You began to kiss her once again, aching slow, trying to appreciate every second with her, as if she would disappear the next second.

You grabbed the hems of her shirt, trying to take it off from her. You reached her chest level, when she stopped you.

“Wait. Wait, Cari.” You removed yourself from her, giving her a questioning look. “Cari, are you sure you want to do this? It’s a big deal.” You nodded, smiling that she took a moment just to double-check if you were ready.

“I’m sure, Tani.” She took her shirt off then proceeded to sit on the bed, pulling you to her. She helped you take off your shirt and you immediately felt her hands on your naked waist, caressing soothingly your skin, she then quickly placed an affectionate kiss on the middle of your chest, then lifted her head up to look at you.

“You are so beautiful. I can’t believe how I got so lucky with you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” You pushed her on the bed, beginning to kiss her on the lips at first. Then you moved to her neck, taking your sweet time to feel each and every moan she would grant you, satisfied you began to trace a line of kisses in the middle of her chest to her toned stomach.

As you reached the hem of her sweatpants, you lifted your head to look at her, silently asking her for consent, which she immediately granted. You quickly took them off leaving two sweet kisses on each thigh before she nudged you to get on her level, bringing you into another searing kiss.

She unexpectedly flipped you over, placing her right thigh in between your legs, eliciting a silent moan from you as she increased the pressure of her leg on your center. You felt as if you had too many layers of clothes between the two of you, so you took matters into your own accords and lifted your pants off yourself. By doing that, you quickly moved slightly on your side, eliciting a curious look from Aitana.

You were about to lie down again on your back when she stopped you, holding you in place and focusing on your butt. “Is this the famous third tattoo you weren’t so keen on telling me about?” She placed a kiss on top of it before helping you to lie back down.

“A little heart,” you said innocently.

“Don’t act all innocent. There's nothing innocent about you, especially when you're barely clothed and silently begging me to touch you.”

“Stop talking dirty and put those words into action.” You impatiently brought her lips to yours, feeling the smirk underlying her already swollen lips.

-

That morning, you woke up with a pleasant ache between your legs and an arm holding you down. Aitana probably sensed that you were awake because you felt her arm tighten around you, accompanied by a small contented moan.

“Bon dia, Cari. How are you feeling?” She finally spoke, her voice still raspy from sleep.

You opened your eyes and turned to your side to better look at her. “I feel amazing! Last night was…” You struggled to find the words to describe the experience. It was amazing. Aitana had taken care of you in a way that nobody ever had before. You hoped that she enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Last night was amazing, cari. You are just incredible. There’s nothing I would love more than to lay in bed with you all day, but I do have to leave for training in half an hour.”

You sighed loudly, feeling a pang of disappointment. Though you understood it was her job, you hated the fact that she didn’t have a fixed schedule and was always on the go. “And you, Cari, you start working again! How do you feel?”

“I’m a little nervous, but I’m so happy! It’s going to be like a really hard job, but I’m excited!”

“It’s the Templo del Sagrado Corazon de Jesus, right?”

“Yep, some students from Barcelona Uni will be there to help me out, so I’ll never hear the end of their incessant questions.”

“I think it’s cute. They look up to you, Cari.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of flattering.”

“You’ll be great. Returning to do what you love, it’s one of the best feelings ever. You’ll be great.” She reassured you.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Thanks for always believing in me.”

“Always,” she whispered, kissing you back gently. “Now, let’s make the most of the next thirty minutes.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her. “I like the sound of that.”

The next half-hour passed in a blissful blur of kisses, laughter, and whispered words of love. When it was finally time for Aitana to leave for training, you felt a pang of sadness but also a surge of determination.

-

As you got ready for your first day back at work, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement. The Templo del Sagrado Corazon de Jesus was a monumental project, and you were eager to dive back into your passion. You thought there wasn’t a better way to return to work.

As you made your way to the church, you noticed a house for sale. You felt drawn to it for some reason. It was a pretty normal house, with a big garden. You couldn’t help but picture yourself calling it home one day. You quickly pushed the thought aside, trying to focus on your job.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach. “I’m Y/N, and I’ll be guiding you through this restoration project. Let’s get started, shall we?”

The students gathered around, notebooks and tablets at the ready. You launched into an explanation of the project, detailing the history of the church and the specific techniques you’d be using to restore its intricate details. The students listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes or asking questions.

As the day progressed, you found yourself slipping back into your old rhythm. You felt at peace. After six months of hell, you were finally back to your old life, doing what you loved most. Thankfully, the students didn’t get in your way too much. Many of them were still afraid of touching any artwork for fear of ruining it, which was something you reassured them would go away with time. You remembered your uni days and how curious you were when you first started this job.

.

As the day drew to a close, you were both exhausted and exhilarated. Driving home along the familiar route to Aitana’s place, your gaze was once again drawn to that house.

It seemed there was an open day to showcase the property to potential buyers. Unsure if it was mere curiosity or something deeper, you felt compelled to pull over. Parking the car, you walked up the path to the house, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within you.

The open house was abuzz with activity; real estate agents engaged in conversation with prospective buyers, and families wandered through the rooms.

Stepping inside, you were immediately struck by the warmth and charm of the place. The living room boasted large windows that flooded the space with light, while the wooden floors exuded a cozy ambiance. You could envision yourself and Aitana unwinding here after a long day, perhaps even hosting dinners with friends.

A real estate agent approached you with a welcoming smile. “Hello! Are you interested in the house?”

“I’m just looking,” you replied, still taking in the details. “It’s a beautiful place.”

“It really is,” she agreed. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure, why not,” you said, feeling more curious than ever.

The agent guided you through the house, highlighting its features and potential. The kitchen was spacious and modern, ideal for cooking together or entertaining guests. The bedrooms were well-appointed, and the master bedroom offered a picturesque view of the garden. There was even a small study that could double as a workspace, which caught your eye.

As you strolled through the garden, your mind raced with possibilities. Aitana could train here, and perhaps you could finally fulfill your dream of getting a dog.

“What do you think?” the agent inquired as you completed the tour.

“I think it’s a place where you can build a life,” you replied with a smile, still envisioning yourself there.

“The owners are an elderly couple; their children have families of their own now, and they’re looking to downsize. They’d be open to renting the property for a few years if you’re not ready to buy outright.”

“I’ll need to discuss it with my partner.”

“Take your time to think it over. The owners are discerning, but this is a rare opportunity. Properties like this don’t come around often in Barcelona, especially at this price.”

“I understand…”

The agent handed you a brochure with all the details. “Feel free to reach out if you have any questions or want to arrange another visit.”

You thanked her and left the house, your mind buzzing with possibilities. Driving back to Aitana’s place, you couldn’t wait to share the news with her and gauge her reaction. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about the future, to contemplate what life could look like once you fully recovered.

-

Upon arriving home, Aitana greeted you with a warm smile and open arms. “How was your day, Cari?”

“It was amazing,” you said, enveloping her in a hug. However, thoughts of the house lingered in your mind, and Aitana soon noticed your preoccupation.

“What’s on your mind, Cari? You have that look like you’re holding onto a secret.”

Blushing lightly, you took her hands. “I’d love to talk to you about something, but I think it’s better if we have dinner first.”

Aitana ordered takeout pizza while you set the table, and over dinner, you both shared highlights from your day, carefully omitting any mention of the house.

“Have you ever thought about changing places?” you asked, catching her off guard. She blinked, puzzled by the unexpected question. Closing her book, she pinned the page and considered your question. “Well, I suppose I’ve never had a reason to move out. Don’t you like it here?”

“I love your place, Tani, but after everything with my cancer, I’ve been thinking about the future, you know?” You broached the difficult conversation with caution.

Aitana’s expression softened as she sat up, giving you her full attention. “I’ve been thinking about it too. These past six months have really got me thinking about the road ahead for us.”

“We’ve only been together for six months. Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Maybe we are, but the intensity of our experiences in these months—most couples don’t experience that in a lifetime or years of being together. We just… fit, you know?”

“I do. I feel like we’re meant to be. Mi media naranja. Plus we’ve gone through worse, I think we can handle moving in together.” You spoke sweetly, taking her hands. “I saw this house while driving to work today. It had a big garden, and I could see us living there. It’s close to both our jobs and has plenty of space.”

“Was it for sale?”

“Yes, I went inside. I couldn’t resist. It felt like a place where we could truly build a life together. I can’t quite explain it.”

“I understand,” she said, nodding in agreement.

“It may sound silly, but I’d like for us to have a place together. We don't have to buy a home right away, we could rent it for a while until we’re sure. I know it’s a big step, but it feels right for us.”

“So, are you asking me to move in with you, Y/n Y/ln?” she teased.

“Yes, meu amor. You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but could you think about it?” You replied earnestly.

She leaped into your arms, causing you to fall back onto the couch as she showered you with excited kisses. “I’ve already thought about it, Y/N! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

Laughing, you held her close, feeling her enthusiasm infecting you. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” she affirmed, pulling back to meet your gaze. “There’s no one else I’d rather do this with. I love you, Cari. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.”

“I love you too, Tani. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that,” you echoed.

-

The next morning, before heading to work, you called the real estate agent to schedule a visit to the house. She mentioned that the owners would be there, which made you a bit nervous.

Throughout the day, you and Aitana exchanged excited messages, discussing the possibilities and envisioning your future together in the new home. Finally, the time came for the visit. You arrived first, your heart pounding with anticipation. Aitana arrived shortly after, her smile reassuring you as you walked in together.

As you toured the house, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. The owners, an older couple, shared stories of their own experiences and the happiness the house had brought them.

Leaving the house, you and Aitana agreed to give them a response by the end of the week. You explored other options, but none felt quite right. In the end, you both knew—the house with the garden, the rooms, the overall atmosphere—was meant to be yours. By the end of the week, you made the call, and when Aitana hung up with a wide smile, you knew your future together was just beginning.

“It’s ours,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll have to wait in the summer, but it’s ours Cari.”

-

It was the end of April, and you were secretly in England for the second leg of the Champions League semi final. Barcelona was set to face Chelsea, 1-0 down on aggregate.

Aitana had been furious after the first leg; losing at home was something she despised. She couldn’t sleep that night, replaying the game over and over, until you finally had to snatch the TV remote from her grasp. Her mind was flooded with what-ifs, and she took the blame for everything.

Convincing her otherwise had been a struggle, but after a heated argument, you managed to help her see that the burden didn’t fall solely on her shoulders. She finally fell asleep, and the next day she woke up with a renewed sense of determination and confidence, ready to give her all in the next leg.

Initially, you told her you couldn’t come to the game because of work—the church you were restoring had been more demanding than you anticipated. However, with the help of a friend, you managed to finish the job earlier than expected and make your way to England. You wanted your presence to be a surprise.

You arrived at the stadium early, your heart racing with excitement and nerves. The atmosphere was electric, the fans buzzing with anticipation. You found your seat among the Barcelona supporters with Eva, hoping to blend in and not draw attention to yourself.

As the players warmed up on the field, you spotted Aitana. She looked focused, every bit the determined athlete ready to make a comeback. Your heart swelled with pride and love as you watched her.

When the match started, you were on the edge of your seat. Every pass, every tackle, every shot at goal had you holding your breath. Barcelona was playing with a fire you hadn’t seen in a while, and Aitana was at the heart of it all, directing play, making key passes, and encouraging her teammates.

Then, before halftime, Barcelona equalized on aggregate with with Aitana’s goal. She celebrated the goal by kissing the wrist in which she had your bracelet on, making your heart skip a beat, Eva teased you endlessly when she saw your expression full of pride and love.

The roar from the fans was deafening, and you couldn’t help but join in the celebration. You saw Aitana glance up at the stands, her eyes scanning the crowd, and for a brief moment, you thought she might spot you. But she quickly refocused on the game.

The second half was even harder for Barcelona, thankfully they were able to seal the game with Rölfo’s penalty.

You did have a jump scare, when they took off Aitana, and she acted like she needed a stretcher. You began to worry as you thought that she got injured, but then you saw her run to give a high five to Alexia, making you chuckle lightly. You loved that girl so much.

When the final whistle blew, you quickly ran to where the fans were asking for the autograph near the pitch, patiently waiting for Aitana to round the Barcelona part of the stadium thanking the fans.

As soon as she reached you, her face lit up with one of her biggest smiles as she sprinted over.

“Can I have an autograph??? I’m your biggest fan!” you begged playfully as she helped you climb over the bleachers onto the pitch. “I don’t think I should be inside the pitch,” you chuckled.

She enveloped you in a big hug. “I don’t care. How are you here! I thought you were working!” she said happily.

“Surprise!” She hugged you once again, lifting you off the ground.

You turned around, showing her the jersey you wore with Alexia’s number on it. “You like this new jersey?” you teased playfully.

Aitana's eyes widened in mock horror as she saw the name and number on your jersey. "Alexia? Really?" she laughed, shaking her head.

"What can I say? She's pretty great," you teased back, grinning.

Aitana put you down. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for this,” she told you, feigning disgust.

“Come on, Tani! You know I love you, meu amor,” you said, covering your mouth, not wanting anyone from the stadium to lip-read your conversation. She wouldn’t budge, still giving you an offended look. “I’ll have a lifetime to make you forgive me.”

“You better start now.”

Your presence on the pitch became known pretty quickly. After you finished your conversation with Aitana, still offended, Mapi and Ingrid ran over to you, giving you a hug.

“Hey Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I wanted to surprise my girl,” you said affectionately, turning to Aitana.

“You did,” she interjected, still bothered. You knew it was a ruse, but you still found it amusing to see her bothered like this.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, looking confused at her tone. You turned your back, making them see the name on the jersey. They burst out laughing.

“How to break Aitana’s heart,” Ingrid giggled.

Aitana rolled her eyes dramatically, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You two are no help," she said, giving Ingrid and Mapi a playful glare.

"Hey, we’re just here to enjoy the show," Mapi replied, still laughing. "But seriously, it's good to see you, Y/N."

"Good to see you too," you replied warmly. "And congratulations on the win, all of you. You played incredibly."

As more teammates joined the celebration, you noticed Alexia approaching, a knowing smile on her face. "Nice jersey," she said, winking at Aitana.

Aitana groaned but couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright, I can’t be mad at you for so long," she conceded, pulling you close again. "But you're making it up to me tonight."

"Deal," you agreed, kissing her cheek.

-

As you waited for Aitana to finish her post-match duties, you met up with your gym buddy, aka Olga, who was waiting for Alexia. You took off your shirt, leaving you with just Aitana’s Barça shirt, and gave it to her.

“Thank you for lending me the shirt. Aitana’s expression was priceless.”

“No problem. I should do the same thing with Alexia!” She raised her eyebrow playfully.

“She would break up with you. My Aitana is the jealous type but she just gets mad, she doesn’t do anything about it. You can rile her up as much as you want. Alexia, on the other hand, I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah, but her face would be priceless!”

Aitana and Alexia appeared out of thin air. “You two are plotting something, I know that,” Alexia chuckled.

“I was just catching up with my gym buddy!” you said innocently, turning your back to show Aitana the jersey you had on.

“I quite like this jersey better,” Aitana said, hugging your waist and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Are you ready to leave?” You nodded, then proceeded to say your final goodbyes to Alexia and Olga and left with Aitana to your hotel room, which unfortunately was in another hotel, meaning Aitana would have to leave earlier in the morning.

“Are you ready to make it up to me?” She said between kisses as you entered your hotel room.

“Maybe was my plan all along.” You smirked mischievously.

“You are such a bad girl. Riling me up just to have your way with me.”

“I just can’t help myself. You are just so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll be your good girl tonight.”

“Never. You know how much I like it when you act bad.”

You chuckled. “Take off your shirt and lay on the bed.” You instructed her, while she did exactly what you told her to.

-

May was the busiest month for Aitana, with two finals in two weeks. You attended all of her games, cheering the loudest whenever she scored a goal.

During the Champions League final, you were the most anxious person in the stadium. You decided to go to the game with Olga, wearing one of Aitana's jerseys. Knowing how much she cared about winning this game against Lyon, given their past matches, made you extremely nervous.

As you and Olga found your seats, you could feel the electric atmosphere in the stadium. The roar of the crowd, the sea of colors, and the anticipation hanging in the air were almost overwhelming. You glanced at Olga, who seemed to be handling the nerves better than you.

“Don’t worry, they’ve got this,” Olga said, giving you a reassuring pat on the back.

“I know, I just... I really want this for her,” you replied, your eyes scanning the pitch as the players warmed up.

The match kicked off with a ferocity that had you on the edge of your seat from the start. Lyon came out strong, and the tension was palpable. Every tackle, every pass, every shot had your heart racing. You cheered, you screamed, you held your breath with every close call.

Aitana was everywhere on the pitch, her determination and skill on full display. You watched her every move, feeling an immense sense of pride mixed with anxiety.

Even though Barcelona was dominating, in the first half there were no goals.

Everything changed, though, in the 63rd minute of the game. Aitana scored, putting her team up by one. As soon as you saw the ball inside the net, you screamed your lungs out, tears welling up in your eyes from the pride and joy you were feeling, especially when she kissed her bracelet and pointed at you in the stands.

As the minutes ticked down, Barcelona managed to hold onto their lead, even scoring an additional goal, courtesy of Alexia. And this time it was Olga who got emotional. Finally, the final whistle blew, signaling their victory.

The stadium erupted in cheers, and you felt an overwhelming wave of relief and happiness wash over you. You watched as Aitana and her teammates celebrated on the pitch, their faces alight with joy and triumph.

You made your way down to the edge of the stands, eager to share this moment with her. When she finally spotted you, her eyes lit up, and she ran over, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“We did it!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion.

“You were incredible, Tani,” you said, holding her close. “I’m so proud of you.”

She quickly ran back for the medal ceremony, as you never took your eyes off her the entire time, until she finally came back to you. She helped you onto the pitch and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so happy you are here!” She took off her medal and placed it around your neck. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You hugged her again and whispered. “You would have.” You subtly kissed her neck, “My girl.” You said proudly.

Aitana beamed, her happiness radiating from her. “This is just the beginning for us, you know.”

“I know,” you replied, holding her tightly. “And I can’t wait to see what’s next.”

The team began to gather around, pulling Aitana into their celebrations, and you watched with pride as she celebrated her victory with the club of her life. You could see the immense respect and love her teammates had for her, and it made you love her even more.

As the night went on and the celebrations continued at a club, you and Aitana found moments to steal away together, sharing kisses and quiet words amidst the chaos. It was a night of pure joy. She insisted on taking pictures with you and the trophy, and she still refused her medal when you tried to place it around her neck, claiming that you were also part of the victory.

-

When you returned to Barcelona, you sadly had to see her leave again for the national team.

“We don’t even have time to celebrate before you already have to leave!” you said sadly as she packed her stuff.

“I know, Cari. I don’t want to go either, but I have to. Who knows? Maybe I’ll fake an injury so I can get back to you earlier,” she joked.

“You would never.” You giggled as she gave you a goodbye kiss and left.

-

The thing was, it was better that she didn’t joke about having a fake injury because not even a week after she left for Madrid, she came back to you on crutches.

You were already busy moving your stuff into your new home, wanting to surprise Aitana with everything ready before she came back from national duty.

You both decided to rent the house until you were sure about buying it. Her injury complicated things, though.

You juggled secretly bringing her stuff and yours into your new home without her discovering your plans and taking care of her.

She was in physiotherapy when you finally finished everything up. You still had to fix some stuff and bring more of Aitana’s belongings home, but you were finally able to surprise her, even though something was still missing. Fortunately, you fixed it before you had to pick up Aitana from physiotherapy. Everything was finally ready.

You drove to the Barcelona training grounds, waiting for Aitana in the parking lot. She greeted you with a kiss and then you drove toward your new rented home.

“Wait, where are we going?” she quickly realized that it wasn’t your usual route but toward her old home.

“It’s a surprise,” you said, grinning.

She looked at you suspiciously but didn’t press further. As you approached the new house, you asked her excitedly to place a blindfold on her eyes, warning her not to peak. As soon as you pulled into the driveway, you rounded the car and opened the car door for her. You dragged her excitedly inside the house and took off her blindfold.

The living room was warmly lit, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of all your belongings neatly arranged.

“Welcome home, Tani,” you said softly.

She looked around, her eyes filling with tears. “You did all this?”

“These past months you have been my rock, helping me when I was sick, so when we decided to move in together I wanted to surprise you.”

Aitana hugged you tightly, still slightly limping from her injury. “I love it. I love you. This is perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it, I was worried I might have overstepped by taking some of your stuff here.” Aitana pulled back slightly, shaking her head with a smile. “You could never overstep. This is amazing. You’ve thought of everything.”

You grinned, relieved. “Come on, there’s more to see.”

You guided her through the house, showing her the cozy bedroom, the spacious kitchen, and the backyard with the garden you had talked about. Her eyes sparkled with each new discovery, and she kept squeezing your hand in gratitude and love.

“You even got my favorite coffee mug,” she said, spotting it on the kitchen counter.

As you led her back to the living room, she sat down carefully on the couch, still adjusting to her crutches. “I can’t believe you did all this while taking care of me and working. You’re incredible.”

“There is another surprise.” You couldn’t help but smile excited.

“I don’t think that there is something that could top this.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” You smirked playfully. “Stay here.”

You quickly walked inside one of the rooms of your new home and excitedly returned holding a huge puppy, a Bernese mountain dog to be exact.

Aitana’s eyes widened in pure delight as she saw the fluffy, adorable puppy in your arms. “Oh my god, Y/N! You didn’t!”

“I did!” You handed her the puppy, as it began licking all over her face, making her giggle childishly. “Hi there, puppy,” she cooed, stroking the puppy’s soft fur. “You’re so beautiful.”

The puppy wagged its tail enthusiastically, she sat down on the floor playing with it. You joined her enthusiastically as you both started laughing at the clumsy small dog, coming up with names for it.

-

Later, as the puppy curled up between you on the couch, Aitana leaned her head on your shoulder and sighed contentedly. “This is perfect, Y/N. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

You kissed her forehead gently. “I love you, Aitana. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that. I can’t wait to see where the future will take us.

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with love. “I love you too, Cari. More than anything. Here’s to our future, our new home, and our little family.”

The puppy let out a soft, contented sigh, settling deeper into the cushions between you. You both giggled softly.

You turned to Aitana, with a soft smile expressing all your love for her. “I’m really glad you hit my car nine months ago.”

“I’m glad I did too.”

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-one

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Here we go! Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags:

"Mom, do you need anything before I leave?" I asked my mom, who was sitting on the couch in our living room.

Her eyes were cold and vacant as she watched the television, well tried to anyway. It didn't matter if she paid attention to whatever was on, she would forget in a while. When she didn't respond, I sighed and brushed the graying hair out of her face which caused her to look up at me, finally.

No hint of recognition in those vacant eyes.

"Who are you?"

Her words chipped away at the stone wall I had around my heart as I blew out a shaky breath.

"Y/N. I'm your daughter," I said while kneeling in front of her.

Even with my name spoken, my mother didn't recognize me.

It's been like this for the last six months since she first received her Alzheimer's diagnosis. It was farther than we would have liked and the doctor said that her health would decline fast. She forgot who I was one month after her diagnosis and the bad days were more so than the good days. From the second I woke up till the very moment I lay in bed for the night I spent the day taking care of her until recently. My job was going to pick up again which meant I would leave her for about five weeks.

I was terrified to leave her alone especially for that long. There was this great company that I can have a live in nurse take care of her while I'm gone but when I looked into pricing, I nearly had a heart attack. We did okay money wise. After my dad passed away a few years ago, he left us a decent cushion. The house was paid off a very long time ago which helped on the bills; except the medical bills.

Every drug, every trial, and every visit burned deeper into my pockets and now the overdue bill's kept pilling up on our kitchen table. My job paid good enough where I could fill our fridge with groceries and take care of the smaller things but even that couldn't help with the bigger things. I thought about asking for a small raise but the fear of having to tell one of my boss' why was daunting so I never did.

Which is where I was headed now. I had to help get everything ready before we hit the road for the tour. My heart fluttered knowing I would see him tonight.

"Y/N," my mom raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I don't know a Y/N."

I swallowed the lump in my throat then gave her knee a squeeze. "I should only be gone for a few hours. My phone number is writing on the piece of paper next to the house phone."

I pointed to the table next to her where said phone and paper was. My mom tracked it with her vacant eyes and nodded.

"Just watch your show and before you know it, I'll be back. Alright?"

She said nothing, merely watched the television, so I stood straight, giving her shoulder a squeeze and left the house. I wasn't the one to pray so instead I whispered out into the world my words repeatedly.

"She will be fine. She can handle herself for a few hours."

I walked into the large warehouse hearing laugher and voices carry which eased my worries of leaving my mom alone. No one I worked with knew about my mom and I planned to keep it that way. Davis smiled at me when I walked over to the large table he was standing in front of, a large array of shirts, hats, and sweaters lay on top of it.

"Think it'll be enough?" I asked as I started helping him fold everything into sections.

Davis shrugged. "It's always good to have extra than not enough."

"The new designs look sick," I said.

"Thanks," Davis smiled while bumping his shoulder with me.

While Davis and everyone else who worked for the band had important jobs, mine wasn't anything even close to important. The only reason I got the job was because Davis and I went to high school together. We weren't best friends but stayed in touch. He's also the only one who knows something is going on back home but never knew exactly what; which is why he recommended the job for me. He knew I was desperate for money.

I was the merch girl for Bad Omens and the vocalist absolutely despised it.

Maybe it was because I never asked him for the job or the slack that merch girls always get. They only have the job so they can hook up with members of the band. Which was the absolute last thing I wanted to do; even if he was breathtakingly handsome.

As if her could sense my thoughts about him, his ethereal voice echoed throughout the warehouse and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing at the back of a large truck, the one where the merch and other things for the new tour will go.

The smile that graced Noah Sebastian's face brightened everything dark and scary in my mind for a few moments and I reveled in the way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

"You're staring."

Turning back to Davis, I scoffed and went back to work of stuffing the boxes. "I am not."

"Are you actually going to talk to him this tour? Last one you barley said three words to him," he said.

"I would if he wasn't such an asshole towards me. I didn't even do anything to deserve the cold shoulder."

Davis sighed while letting a large pile fall into the box at our feet, a lot messier than the ones I had been packing. I gave him a narrowed gaze of annoyance, one he ignored.

"Don't take it personal. Noah is quiet. I'm sure if you tried to talk to him, you'd find out he's a great guy," Davis suggested.

"I'd rather chew broken glass," I muttered.

I'd work with Bad Omens and crew for about almost a year now and in that time, Noah and I spoke less than ten words to each other. While on the last tour, I kept to myself not knowing anyone besides Davis which might have put me off to Noah. He probably thought I didn't care about getting to know anyone else here; which wasn't true. I had other things on my mind.

Like wondering how I was going to pay my mom's medical bills.

"New designs look sick, Davis."

My shoulders stiffened at the deep voice, his scent filling all of my senses. I could see Noah out of the corner of my eye while I continued to fold the shirts and sweaters. His gaze burned into the side of my head before falling to the messy pile of clothes in the box.

"You're not going to leave it like that, are you?" Noah raised a brow.

I audibly choked on my spit at him blaming me for that mess.

"No, I was planning on leaving it like that. I mean what's the point of folding everything perfect when it's just going to be packed in a box," I replied dryly while holding up the pile of clothes I had been folding.

Something flashed in his dark eyes, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly.

"She does speak."

"Oh, fuck off Noah. I'm not in the mood," I snapped while giving him my back.

Davis let out a low whistle before taking the now full box of merch to the truck, leaving Noah and I alone. It might have been a bad idea snapping at him like that but it was true. I was dealing with a lot at home so the last thing I needed was bullshit from him.

"Did you break up with your boyfriend?"

The shirt I was folding fell onto the table at his words. Boyfriend? I didn't have one; I never did.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I muttered, fingers toying with the fabric of the shirt.

Noah hummed while leaning against the table next to me. He sat facing everything behind me while I stood facing the wall behind him.

"Davis didn't want to go out with you?" He pressed with a sly smirk.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my growing anger at bay. I already snapped at him once, I couldn't risk my job my doing it again.

"Davis and I are just friends. I don't think of him like that and I'm sure the feelings are mutual."

"Good," Noah nodded. "Because the last thing I need is you distracting someone on the crew because of a little crush."

My eyes snapped over to him, flaring with fury. "What is your problem with me, Noah? If you don't want me here, just fire me so you can stop wasting my time and yours."

With how much taller he was than me, even sitting on the edge of the table Noah towered over me as he leaned closer. His warm breath fanned across my face as I peered up at him. Even with my fury, my heart hammered hard against my chest with our proximity, something I hope Noah couldn't hear.

"Trust me, angel. You'd know if I was wasting my time with you."

He watched me for a few moments before walking away; him taking the warmth that cocooned around me away with him. I blinked long after he left, trying to let his words process in my mind. What the hell did he mean by that?

But suddenly, his pet name for me was the only thing at the forefront of my mind and I wasn't sure if I liked the way my body reacted to it; heat spreading from my heart straight down between my legs, core aching with need.

For the next little while, I worked alone finishing up folding all the merch and when I had four boxes stuffed full; I began bringing them over to the truck. On my way back with my third box, I saw Noah and Nick Folio standing at the back of the truck, laughing about something I didn't know. I ignored the way my stomach warmed at seeing the large smile on Noah's face as I walked past him up the ramp of the truck.

Folio noticed how I could barley see over the box and reached out for it.

"Hey, Y/N. Need some help?" He asked.

I let him take it with a small smile. "Thanks, Folio."

Unlike Noah, I spoke to the other members of the band and crew. I wouldn't say we were close but more than strangers.

"How many more do you have?" He asked as he set down the box next to the others.

"Just one. I can get it though, I don't want to distract you."

As the last few words came from lips, I made sure to lock my eyes with Noah, who was watching me with bright eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The way his eyes glinted with the setting sun almost made a smile break out on my face.

Almost.

Folio looked between Noah and I before letting out a low chuckle. "If you guys go the whole tour with this tension, something is going to explode before it ends."

I shook my head. "There's no tension."

"Right," Folio clicked his tongue. "And I play guitar for Bad Omens."

The sarcasm in his voice wasn't missed and with a sigh, I left the two of them back to whatever they were doing before I interpreted. The only tension, if there was any, between Noah and me was hate. He never liked me even from my first day. So why would I bother being nice to him when he didn't give a shit about me?

After the last box was loaded into the truck, I began walking back into the warehouse to see if Davis needed me for anything else when my phone rang.

"Mom?" I spoke when I saw the caller I.D.

Noah was walking inside the warehouse with Nick Ruffilo, laughing that beautiful laugh, so not wanting him to hear my conversation I held back away from them.

"Who is this?"

I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. "Mom, it's Y/N. You called me. Is everything alright?"

"Oh." There was a long beat of silence on the other line before some rustling came through. "I was hungry and wanted to make something to eat."

"NO!" I yelled into the phone.

Noah turned to look at my sudden outburst but I didn't bother to look at him, the fear of wondering if my mom turning on the stove filled me.

"Did you turn on the stove?" I asked.

"No, there's a note saying not too. Which is why I called."

I swallowed the sob that almost crawled out of my throat.

"Okay, good." I nodded. "I'm almost done at work. I'll pick up some pizza on the way home. You like pizza."

Another long beat of silence.

"Alright. I'll go back to watching my show."

"Good, I'll be home soon. Love you mom."

The line clicked off before I even finished speaking and I stared at my phone with a long breath. If she had turned on the stove, things would have been a lot worse. A few weeks ago while I was taking a nap, my mom tried to cook something and forgot about it, letting it blaze up in flames and when she tried to extinguish it, she burned her hand pretty bad. So since that day, I had a large note tapped to the front panel of the oven saying not to use it.

Thank goodness I did.

"Everything alright?"

I jumped slightly at the deep voice and quickly wiped away the stress tears that burned at the corners of my eyes before turning on my heels. Noah stood in front of me with his hands buried deep into the pocket of his black hoodie. My hands itched to run through the messy strands of his face but I held back.

"Uh, yeah. I loaded all the boxes up in the truck. Is there anything else you want me to do?"

His gaze took over my chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath I took and I knew he noticed the tears that gathered in the edge of my eyes.

"If you could-."

My phone rang again, interrupting Noah, and I apologized with a sheepish frown. When I saw the unknown number, I excused myself from him and answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Y/L/N?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"This is Chief Reynolds with the Los Angeles fire department."

My heart fell out of my ass and I stumbled out an incoherent sentence, forgetting that Noah was still standing behind me.

"What happened?" I finally managed out.

"We have a Mrs. Y/L/N here at your residence."

I rapidly nodded even though the Chief couldn't see. "That's my mom. Is she alright?"

"Well, it seems as if she tried to cook something on your stove and let the gas burn. A neighbor called in a strong smell of gas. It seems as if she had it burning for a while."

"Oh fuck," I groaned while running a hand through my hair. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, we tested her for any effects of the gas but she seems fine. We opened some windows to air it out. You shouldn't have any issues."

I spoke to him for a few more seconds before thanking him and hanging up. Fucking hell, she tried to cook something and damn near exposed herself to gas. I left her for two hours, how the fuck was I supposed to leave her for five weeks?

"Do you need to leave?"

I jumped, hand over my chest when I suddenly remembered Noah was still standing behind me. For the first time in almost a year of knowing him, I saw concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Uh, a small emergency at home. I have to go take care of it," I said.

Noah nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Did you have a ride set up for Saturday?"

I cursed, almost forgetting that in two days we were leaving for tour. I needed the money but also couldn't bear the idea of leaving my mom alone.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I was going to ride on the crews bus."

"I hope things are alright," he said while motioning to my car in the parking lot.

"Thanks," I grumbled before jogging over to the car, not wanting to leave my mom alone for a second longer.

[d3adp00ls]

Leave me alone…

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: continuation of my “clingy” Fic

Contents/warnings: Angst, hurt with no comfort, hospitals, tears, talks of car crashes, mentions of comas (dw no one is in a coma…in this at least…), broken bones, more arguing, Mike is mentioned, Vanessa gets a lil jealous, It's implied that the reader may be bi but you can easily ignore it.

Word count: Loading…

Side note: 🌚🌚🌚

Pt.1 pt.3

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Vanessa was freaking the fuck out.

After the events of last night, she went to sleep to try and just forget about it all but when she woke up she was greeted not by you but by 100+ missed calls from your friends and even some from Mike, which she could've just ignored thinking you probably just went to one of their houses and vented to them. And she was about to just toss her phone and move on with her day but one missed call made her pause in her actions.

The hospital? Why the hell would the damn hospital call her?

That leads us back to where Vanessa is freaking out.

She had called the hospital hesitantly only to find out that apparently you got into a car crash and that she was the first person on your emergency contact list, the second Vanessa heard that you were hurt she thought the worst, she didn't even let the person on the other end of the call finish before she was halfway out the door the only thing that stopped her in her tracks was the little box that you had threw away the night before during your argument. She moved to pick it up and examined it before she opened it and a gasp escaped her lips.

It was a necklace with your first initial and a heart in the middle then her initial, it was so beautiful, it made her heart shatter and tears began to build up and real guilt began to settle in as she lifted it up to look at it more before placing it back into the box, closing it and pocketing it before wiping the few tears that had escaped and grabbing her coat and rushing out the house.

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Vanessa was once again, freaking the fuck out.

She had made it to the hospital and didn't hesitate to go straight to the front desk and started asking the desk lady where you were but the desk lady had her finger shoved so far up her ass she immediately cut Vanessa off saying that she couldn't just barge in and begin demanding answers and that she would have to wait before she could visit anyone.

Vanessa had snapped

She didn't mean to but she did, she didn't have time to hear some pathetic excuse from some bitch who just didn't wanna do her fucking job. She would worry about maybe apologizing later but right now it didn't matter she had to make sure you were okay. So when the woman shakily handed Vanessa her pass she snatched it and only took one glance at it before basically sprinting to where the pass said your room was located.

Now she was frozen standing in front of the bed you were currently lying unconscious in. She could feel tears begin to build up at the thought of you possibly being in a coma when she finally moved to take a step someone else entered the room causing her to look behind her, her guard immediately rising before she saw it was just the doctor with a nurse following behind her.

The doctor's brow furrowed at Vanessa for a moment before they lifted and she hummed and held her hand out.

“You must be Vanessa, I’m Dr. Sylla and this is Nurse O’hara,” Vanessa looks at her hand before looking back at her face.

“Is she okay?” Vanessa rushed out and the doctor's brows rose before she took her hand back and let it rest at her side.

“She got into a crash so-” Vanessa was quick to cut the doctor off with more questions,

“Is she dying? Is she hurt? That's a dumb question of course she is, but is she going to be okay? oh my god is she in a coma, is she gonna-” The doctor's eye twitched at Vanessa's frantic talking trying to get her to stop so she could answer at least some of the questions, but they just kept coming, and she was about to give up until another voice spoke out.

“Vanessa please, shut the fuck up!”

Everyone’s heads snapped toward your voice Vanessa's eyes went wide as she saw you trying to sit up with a slightly pained expression on your face, she didn't hesitate to rush to your side as you finally got as comfortable as you could be with all the pain coursing through your body.

You glanced at Vanessa forcing a tight-lipped smile on your lips as she looked at you with worried glassy eyes her hands moving to help you but she stopped halfway unsure of how to even touch you without hurting you more.

“You should see the other guy,” you say playfully trying to lighten the mood before you let out a shaky breath when one of your legs moved slightly.

“He got out with basically nothing but a cut on his face that'll definitely turn into a cool ass scar later,” you say with a dry chuckle but when you glance at Vanessa again she doesn't seem at all amused by your words causing you to frown and look away from her.

The nurse gave you your tray of food and the Doctor was finally able to sit Vanessa down and explain to her your condition before they both finally got up and let you both have some alone time.

You refused to even glance at Vanessa as you picked at your food suddenly losing your appetite as she continued to look at you intensely.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly and it made you slightly flinch not expecting her to speak up.

“Uh, as okay as a person with two broken legs can be, I suppose,” you say with a chuckle, and when you finally met her gaze her brows were furrowed and a frown was still placed on her face causing you to frown before letting out a sigh and dropping the fork on the plate.

“Look are you just gonna sit there and stare at me or are you gonna tell me what's happening in that head of yours?” You ask, slightly snapping at her, you didn't want to start another argument with her or anything you were just already irritated that you wouldn't be able to walk normally again for the next 8 weeks or so, you really weren't in the mood for getting scolded by her right now but by the way, shes just staring at you saying nothing you kind of wish she would scold you, at least she would be talking then.

“What do you mean?” she mumbles finally looking away from you and you let out a huff,

“I mean, are we just gonna sit here and act like my legs are the only problem we have right now? Or are we actually going to talk about the reason why I even left in the middle of the night and ended up here,” You state, irritation clear in your voice, Vanessa looked at you for a moment and you could tell she was thinking before she sighed through her nose and went to pull something out of her pants pocket before placing it on the bed next to you. You raise a brow at her before looking down to be greeted with the gift box that you had the night before. You didn't understand why she had it you thought you threw it away so as you reached for it with furrowed brows she began to speak.

Her words were barely audible as she mumbled, “It's really pretty.” You let out a frustrated sigh and turned your head away from the necklace, trying to hide your disappointment. “I got it because I thought you would like it,” you replied, shifting your focus to the monitor screen instead of Vanessa.

“Oh, did you get one too?” Vanessa's voice broke through the silence. You nodded, but before you could open your mouth, she cut in, "A bracelet, right? Because you always break your necklaces." Her teasing tone brought a small smile to your face, but it quickly faded as you looked back at her. She was still playing with the necklace, a sad expression on her face. Your heart ached at the sight.

“Why are you even here?” You blurted out, unable to keep the confusion and hurt out of your voice. Vanessa furrowed her brows, her smile disappearing.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, after I slapped you, I thought you wouldn't want to see me again. And the doctor said they tried calling you, but you didn't answer, so they called Mike instead.” You couldn't help but mention Mike, not realizing that it would bother Vanessa.

“Mike? I didn't know he was on your emergency contact list.” Her voice was laced with jealousy and it only added to the tension in the room.

“He's my best friend, Vanessa. He's been on there since before we even started dating.” You stated matter-of-factly, not wanting to deal with any unnecessary drama.

"Well, maybe he should be here instead since he's your new boyfriend and all." Vanessa's words were harsh and you couldn't help but groan in frustration.

"Can we not do this today, please?" you pleaded, wanting to avoid a fight.

"Do what? I'm just saying, maybe he should be here if you think he cares about you more than I do." Vanessa's tone was dismissive and it only fueled your anger.

“First off, ew. He's like a brother to me, and secondly, I never said I thought you didn't care about me.” You shot her a glare, trying to make her understand that you didn't appreciate her jealousy.

“Listen, I don't know what your problem is, but if you're going to act like this the whole time you're here, maybe you should just leave.”

Your words were cold and you could see Vanessa flinch, but she quickly recovered and shot you a glare in return. The tension between you was palpable and you could only hope that it wouldn't ruin your relationship further.

"I don't have a problem," she began, but you quickly cut her off.

"You do have a problem! And it's sad, because your actions have caused all of this fucking chaos, yet you have the nerve to act upset!" You yelled, noticing her jaw clenching as she looked at you.

"How is this my fault? I'm not the one who decided to leave in the middle of the night and get into a car crash, ending up in the hospital."

"Maybe I wouldn't have left if you had kept your promise and showed up on time for OUR anniversary!" You shouted, seeing her taken aback before she clenched her hands into fists.

"MAYBE I WOULD SHOWN UP ON TIME IF YOU WEREN’T SO CLINGY ALL THE TIME!!" She retorted, causing you to flinch. But then her words sank in and you froze. “MAYBE I WOULDN'T FUCKING TAKE EARLY SHIFTS THAT LAST UNTIL MIDNIGHT IF YOU WOULD GIVE ME SOME SPACE ONCE IN A WHILE!?” She continued, not even noticing the tears forming in your eyes as she paced around, still shouting.

"I JUST DON'T LIKE BEING AROUND YOU 24/7 ITS GETTING SICKENING!" she finished, looking back at you and seeing the tears on your cheeks and the pain in your eyes.

After a moment of tense silence and staring at each other, you finally mumbled, "Alright..."

Slowly nodding your head, you could see the regret and guilt on Vanessa's face as she stared at you, frozen in place. But it didn't matter, she had shared her feelings and you couldn't control them, no matter how much they hurt you.

"I-….I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I never meant to," you stuttered, avoiding eye contact and wiping away your tears.

"Y/n, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," Vanessa started, but you shook your head.

"It's fine. Just go. I'll be okay," you mumbled, not wanting to look at her any longer.

"My love...please, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that-," she pleaded, moving towards you and reaching for your arm. But you quickly pulled away and closed your eyes.

"I don't care. Just go," you said, wiping away more tears with the back of your hand.

"But-"

"I SAID GO! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" You yelled, turning your head to face her.

Vanessa took a step back, her expression shocked and her eyes filled with tears. She swallowed and nodded slowly.

"Okay..." she mumbled, walking towards the door but pausing to look back at you.

"I'm sorry...for everything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. But you didn't even look at her, your heart shattered and your emotions too raw to even respond. She sighed and walked out, closing the door behind her and leaving you alone.

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Well, this is not what I had in mind at all for the ending but, it works!! Anyways imma try and get part 3 out sometime next week. So for now TOODLES 🤪✌🏾

[lunallaa]

||calling him by his first name||

gotham knights!jason todd x gn!reader

{not edited/proof read please excuse any errors♡}

You honestly didn't even realize that you said it. It was one of those rare late nights where Jason was out on patrol, and you were stuck back home at your shared apartment, struggling to fall asleep ever since he had left for the night. Normally after a long day of work and errands like today sleep came easy, you'd take a hot shower maybe have a cup of that tea Jason buys specifically to help with sleep, and then gather you and the new kitten the two have recently adopted and sleep until he came home. Tonight however, was a different case. No amount of tossing and turning, fluffing your pillows, cups of tea, or white noise playing on your phone could help you sleep.

Thankfully after however many(few) hours your body must've finally realized that you were in fact tired and in need of sleep cause when you woke up next, it was to your kitten stirring and loudly meowing at the bedroom door. Jason was finally home, and from the sounds of things he had just put away his gear from patrol and was making his way to your shared bedroom. You were always confident in your boyfriend and his family's capabilities at what they do, that you never exactly feared one of them never coming home, but it always filled you with such relief and peace whenever he walked through that door. Most times he's worn down and maybe nursing an injury but he's in one peice.

“Welcome home Jason.”

You had barely managed to say it in an audible enough volume with how much sleep and exhaustion you were fighting off. Despite that, it was clear he had heard you anyways. Through half lidded eyes struggling to remain open for more than a few seconds at a time you saw him pause from loving on your kitten almost as if you had told him something ridiculous and he was taking a moment to process it. It wasn't until you had registered his silence lasting longer that it should've for a moment like this, that you started to sober up from you sleepy state and turn your full attention to him.

“What's the matter-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“What are you tal-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Jason-”

“You're mad at me.”

With a huff you push yourself up and remove yourself from the plush warm covers and expose yourself to the surprisingly cold air of your bedroom as you sit and stare at your boyfriend who stands holding your cat just a few feet from you staring back at you.

“Why would I be mad?”

“You called me Jason.”

You're tempted to crawl right back under your blankets. For how large and scary your boyfriend tends to be, when it comes to you he can be so silly and endearingly pathetic. You will admit that you hardly ever call him by his first name after the first few months of dating and it had only been petnames and nicknames since. Both of your first names were a rare occurrence in your household with how disgustingly in love and sappy the two of you were.

“You're worried cause I called you…your name?”

“You never call me just Jason and you know that.”

“You're an idiot” he's your idiot.

The slight tension in his shoulders immediately deflates as he feigns a dramatic gasp and covers your kitten's ears as if you said a very nasty swear at the two of them.

“How could you say that in front of our daughter! Do you know how damaging it will be for her to see her parents fight?”

“Well seeing as she's only been home for a month and walked in on her parents being very loving with each other more times than we can count on both of our hands combined, I'd say she'll be just fine.”

With the tension fully dissipated now and the both of you all giggles and love sick smiles, Jason walks over to where you sit in bed and plops the kitten on your lap before kissing you softly. The sneaky bastard tries to heaten the moment up, but you (hesitantly) pull away before he's successful.

“Nuh uh. Go shower you smell like gunpowder and outside.”

“What? I thought you liked my natural musk.” He’s got that stupid playful smile on his face that never fails to get a giggle out of you.

“That is not your natural “musk”, you smell like Gotham. Now go shower before you're sleeping on the couch tonight. Jason.”

He immediately straightens up and pouts at your use of his first name again but still makes his way to the bathroom. You don't miss the way he leaves the door completely open as he turns on the water and undresses as an invitation for you to join him. With a dreamy sigh and a kiss to your kitten's forehead, you get yourself up and out of bed and make your way to the bathroom door.

Inspired by a blurb from @gay-dorito-dust !

Read it here!

[808airsoftbros]

A Part of Me Lives Inside Me (Kim Jiwon)

Author: Just a story that I came up in my head and the inspiration came from another creepypasta story I listened. If you want to check out more stories do go to my Masterlist

Author's POV

It was uneventful day for Kim Y/N as he was driving home after his long day of work in the office, he was looking forward to the comfort of his home and to see his wife.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me..." He muttered and groaned as he saw a large pack of cars backed up in an intersection.

He peered his head out of the car window to get a better look and there he saw multiple ambulances tending to a major accident.

Deeply sighing knowing that this will make him very late and will probably be midnight by the time he gets home as this will take a while for this to clear up.

When the accident was finally cleaned up, traffic was flowing once again but Y/N sped up a little to make up lost time.

Passing through yellow lights right before it turned red and breaking the speed limit without miraculously getting caught by the police.

However, this would soon turn consequential as suddenly he saw an incoming freight truck but it was too late for him to react...

*crash*

It was all in a blur, his car collided right into the truck, and the front bumper was bent and broken along with the truck but they weren't the most damaged...

That honor belonged to our dear friend, Kim Y/N, his blood was everywhere and he soon passed out from losing too much blood along with God knows what injuries.

Soon EMS arrived at the scene, the truck driver luckily made it out with a few scratches but Y/N had to be hauled to the hospital as soon as possible.

Jiwon on the other hand was at home worrying and wondering what could be holding up her husband this late and was about to call him until her phone rang.

When she realized it was the local hospital, she answered it and the nurse informed her of the accident and she was heartbroken and shocked.

Not wasting a moment further, she grabbed her keys and rushed to the hospital, by the time she arrived, Y/N was covered in bandages and plaster completely unconscious.

"Mister Kim is in a coma, we're not entirely sure when or if he'll wake up, he got himself into a nasty accident..." The doctor grimly informed her.

Though Jiwon didn't like it, she knew there was nothing more she could do for him but be there for him, day after day, night after night, she visited him.

As for Y/N, in his coma, he was having strange visions of an infant crying and voices but he couldn't make out what they were saying or what was going on.

One night, Y/N finally awoke he looked around to see he was alone in a hospital room and covered in bandages making him immobilized as his body was too injured to move at all.

"Uhhh... What happened...?" He muttered trying to gather his thoughts.

The room was dark, he looked through the small window at the door in the hallway but there was no one there and he started to feel a bit lonely.

He looked at the clock to see it was three in the morning and decided it was best to get some rest.

But Y/N's sleep was anything but peaceful as he had those bizarre dreams again and he saw a surgeon performing some kind of operation but he before he could see who he was operating on he woke up and gasped.

His spook startled Jiwon who happened to be in the room with him and her eyes widened in surprise.

"J-Jagi! You're awake!" She exclaimed with a big smile with a tear coming out of her eye.

"Y-Yeah... What happened...? Last thing I remember was a truck heading straight towards me and I just blacked out," He asked and she sighed.

"You got into an accident, the doctor was worried you wouldn't make it but you seem to be fine for now, how are you feeling? You've been out for two weeks," She checked.

"Fine I guess..." He replied and she raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" She asked me and Y/N sighed as he didn't know how to put it.

Y/N explained what he saw in his dreams as best as his ability and by the time he finished, she was dead silent and had a blank expression devoid of any emotion.

"Oh... Well, dreams are dreams, they don't mean anything... Maybe it's just a side effect of your coma," Jiwon tried to brush it off.

However, this didn't entirely convince him as he felt that his wife knew something that he didn't but he chose not to push it.

After that, the doctor checked on him and informed them that he would be released after few weeks for him to be transported onto a wheelchair.

Throughout that time, however, Y/N's time in the hospital made him uncomfortable and felt nothing but dread and a sense of emptiness and he wished he'd be discharged sooner.

One night, Y/N couldn't sleep, he was alone in the room once again but he felt like something or someone was watching him from the shadows of the room.

"W-Who's there?" He nervously called out but of course, there was no response.

Sighing as he once again thinks he was hallucinating and feeling too much on edge driving him to paranoia, he was about to go back to sleep when he spotted a shadow figure standing in the corner.

At first, Y/N rubbed his eyes making sure he wasn't seeing things but the figure was still there, standing there motionless, until suddenly, his vision blacked out and the figure was right by his bed.

"W-What are you doing here...? Who are you...?" He quivered in fear and as the figure was closer he got a better look at it and his jaw dropped.

The figure... The man standing before him... Looked exactly like him... But there was no face, just a hollow shell resembling a black hole, he noticed that parts of his body like his shoulder blade, spine, and some other parts were missing.

Y/N shivered and was too afraid to say anything, he didn't understand any of it or why the faceless man resembling him was just staring at him, not moving a single inch.

There was nothing he can do about it, he was stuck in that room, and eventually one response came to his mind.

"W-What are you...?" He nervously asked.

Although he wasn't sure he swore he heard a whisper in his ear, whatever it was... Seemed to be his answer.

"I'm sorry Misses and Mister Kim, but seeing that your son is in a dire state of need, I see no other option..."

"Are you mad?! How would you think my son would feel about this?! This whole thing is just barbaric!"

"Honey, listen to him... He's long gone and we can't lose another... Please, it's the only way..."

The whispers stopped, strangely, all of this felt familiar to him and a faint memory began to play in his head, he was in an operation room surrounded by a doctor and nurses.

He saw his passed mother and father with anxious faces and whispered to each other.

*Door opens*

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the lights flickered on illuminating the room and temporarily blinding his vision but when his eyes adjusted to the light... The faceless man vanished without a trace like he was never there in the first place.

"Y/N! Are you okay?! We saw your heart monitor spiking!" The nurse asked urgently and checked my vitals.

I was sweating cats and dogs, I didn't know what to make of it... That strange twin and those whispers from my parents.

"I-I'm fine... Just a little paranoid is all..." Y/N assured but the nurse didn't seem entirely convinced as sleeping in a room shouldn't have been this impactful to his health.

The nurse reported this to the doctor by morning, and he grew very concerned telling the nurse to request Jiwon's presence as he had an urgent matter to speak about.

When Jiwon arrived to the hospital, the doctor explained the sudden spike in his heart rate last night and he suspected one thing...

"He's good enough to be discharged... But keep a close eye on him," The doctor instructed and Jiwon nodded.

"Yes, Appa, I will do so," Jiwon answered and promised to take time off her work.

After Y/N heard the news of his discharge, he was most relieved that he would be out of that God-forsaken room, even so, he could not stop thinking about those dreams and that faceless twin.

Y/N would often keep to himself since then, Jiwon would ask what happened that night but all he would tell was that it was a figment of his imagination.

But I wonder if Y/N is telling the truth... Don't you?

[ragingbookdragon]

Make Me Sway

1930's TF 141 x Reader

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I have so many AUs planned but @temeyes said run with this one so I shall :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She wakes with a startle, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling which turns into an unfamiliar room. Fancy, obviously a wealthy owner, the room’s almost as big as her entire apartment. She sits up and blinks, looking down at herself—still dressed in the clothes she was in last night, save her shoes.

“Finally awake?” Her head swivels to the side to see a young man standing with a calm smile on his face. “Hi, I’m—”

She scrambles off the bed, puts it between them and she looks around for an exit to flee from.

“Woah, calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He takes a step closer, and she reacts, grabbing the lamp from the bedside table, yanking it from the wall and flipping it upside down to use as a weapon. He snorts, trying to hide it and puts on a firm look. “Will you—will you please put the lamp down?”

“W-where am I?” she asks, keeping the bed still between them; she waves the lamp at him. “Who are you?”

“My name is Kyle and you’re here at my boss’s mansion.”

“Where is here?”

“Just a few miles out of New York City. Countryside.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she says in shock and when he takes another step, she waves the lamp and moves to the end of the bed. “Back! Get back!”

Kyle throws his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, easy. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

She looks around the lavish room, it’s green, calming, the wood is cherry, and she breathes in the scent of lavender. “Why am I here?”

“I can’t answer that,” he says and takes a cautious step forward. “But I can get my Captain so he can. He told me to watch you until you woke and take you to him when you did.” He looks at her, deep brown eyes firm but kind, trusting. “I can take you to him, but I need you to put the lamp down before you hurt yourself.” She lets him get close, hands him the lamp. “That’s a good girl. Now—”

He starts talking but she lowers her gaze to the gun sitting in his between his pants and shirt, tucked neatly at his hip; it only takes a split second to decide, and she yanks the revolver from him and points it at him as she backs up and now, he looks even more worried.

“Easy,” he says the word lowly, a warning; looks at her shaking hands. “You don’t even know how to shoot a gun, I reckon.”

“I can learn,” she retorts with a wavering confidence. “I’ve learned a lot by doing in the moment.” She thinks of all the things she’s learned in the nursing ward she’s been in for the last two years.

“Why don’t we—”

The gun aims over his shoulder and a blast rings out in the room as the glass picture on the wall shatters.

“Christ!” he shouts, ducking. “Are you fucking mad! You could’ve fucking shot me!”

“No, but I’m sure I still have a few rounds in the chamber,” she replies. “Perhaps you should go get your Captain, hmm?” she waves the gun to the door. “Run along.”

Kyle lifts his hands over his head and backs up slowly to the door. “Crazy, fucking bat—” he hurries out and she lowers the gun, hyperventilating, tucking herself into the corner; a quick look out the window dismays her idea to jump out the window—she’s on the second floor high up.

It’s only a few minutes before a knock sounds on the door and she lifts the gun again as a calm, deep voice comes through. “Can I come in?”

She swallows thickly and backs closer to the corner. “I have a gun!”

“I’m well aware,” the voice replies humored and in steps an older man, early forties, clean kempt and clean shaven, light brown and dusting gray mutton chops; his eyes are soft, a bit crow-footed around the edges, times of worry and weariness evident, but his expression and body language appear non-threatening. “Gave my Sergeant quite a wake-up, didn’t you, love? I’ve always loved a woman not afraid to make her peace,” he notes with a grin, and she can’t help but let out a startled laugh.

She watches as he walks over to the table in the corner and plucks two hardwood chairs up and sets them down in the middle of the room, followed by a small table from the window; he sets them a distance away, a safe distance and sits down in the chair closest to the door.

“Care to sit?”

“Not particularly,” she says and waits for him to speak, but he doesn’t, only smiles when the door opens and in steps the same young man but he’s holding a silver tray with a tea kettle and a few small cups.

“Tea, Captain,” he murmurs and sets it down on the table before leaving.

“Thank you, Kyle,” he says and looks at her. “You look awfully taut, love, come have some tea and we’ll sit a while and discuss what’s going on.”

She looks at it dubiously. “And how do I know you haven’t poisoned it?”

He blinks and pours himself a cup before blowing and taking a sip. “Wouldn’t drink it, would I?” He can tell she wants to argue but doesn’t know what to say and he smiles, nodding to the chair a few feet from him. “You’re confused, scared, and untrusting. Take a seat and I can help clear up some of those for you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me?” it’s a stupid question to ask really, naïve even, but still, she can’t help it.

He laughs. “If I was going to hurt you, I wouldn’t have you up here in my guest bedroom.”

She purses her lips and tips her head side to side; can’t argue with that. Taking a seat, she lets him pour a cup.

“Sugar?”

“Two, please.”

He nods. “Sweet love, aren’t you?” handing her the cup, he holds out his hand. “May I have Sergeant Garrick’s gun back, please?” His tone is kind, but it’s obvious he’s a man who isn’t to be argued with and she hands the gun over. “Thank you, love.”

She holds the cup in her lap, watching the steam waft up to her face. “Where am I?”

“At my mansion just outside of New York.” He takes a sip. “First, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies for what occurred last night and how you unfortunately were involved.”

It takes a second and her memory flashes.

The guns went off before she realized what was happening, bullets ringing from over the street. One of their faces appears in her vision and then other faces, fingers pointing at her and she felt her heart drop into her stomach as she picks her bag from the ground and ran down the alley.

It’s only a moment before a weight like a train hits her back and she falls to the ground, sliding in dirt and grime behind the dumpster as she scrambles for her bearings. A cocking echoes and she looks over, the barrel of a gun in her face and she pleads with the man, “Please, please, I don’t want to die!”

He curses at her, screaming and then he looks down the alley he came in from and curses again, running off, but not before yanking her bag up and taking off with it.

Two more men run to her, and she slips in the watery mud as she tries to get up and run, but then one of the men’s arms are around her waist.

“Hold it, lass!” She starts screaming, and then his hand is over her mouth. “Stop fucking screaming! You tryna call the fuzz!”

His hand is over her nose, and she thrashes wildly in his grip as oxygen shorts from her lungs.

“Careful, Johnny,” the other warns. “Price’ll be livid if you kill her.”

Her vision blacks out, consciousness bleeding away as his response turns to mush in her ears.

“John and Simon weren’t supposed to do their mission in the neighborhood they were in. It’s my fault you were involved with it.”

She blinks the memory of the night before away and looks at him.

He looks almost ashamed. “Believe me, I’ve already expressed my anger thoroughly with them. They’ll both be in here to apologize at some point. John, especially for how he treated a young lady such as yourself.”

“…I take it you’re not exactly ‘law-abiding’ citizens?”

His eyes find hers and he smiles, holding out his hand. “Jonathan Price.”

She takes his hand and shakes it. “(Y/N) (L/N).” she looks him over. “You’re a mobster, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to call myself a well-distinguished businessman who simply operates outside the rules of engagement.”

“Long way to call yourself a criminal,” she snaps and sips her tea.

“Probably.” He gazes at her. “What happened last night was a fight over territory with a rival gang. You weren’t supposed to get involved.”

“Really? I had no idea?”

She knows he doesn’t take kindly to the sarcasm, but he can’t blame her. “That being said, it’s already through the channels that you’re somehow involved with my group. They’ve put a hit on you.”

Tea goes down the wrong pipe and she coughs, massaging her chest as she manages, “I’m sorry? Can you repeat that?”

“Because John and Simon brought you back, the others have assumed you’re a part of the one-four-one. They’ve officially put a target on your back.” He takes her shock in stride and in return calms, “I don’t intend to let anyone, or anything hurt you before all of this is cleared.”

“I’m going to die?”

He blinks and shakes his head. “No, you’re not, love.” Reaching over with a gentle hand, he places it on her wrist and looks into her eyes as he promises, “I won’t let anyone hurt you as a result of my men’s piss poor planning. You will be safe until it’s over and can return back to normal life.”

She breathes deeply, looks at the hand on her wrist. A stranger’s hand shouldn’t be so peaceful, so gentle, but his words sway her into a peace, and she exhales, her shoulders drooping. “I…but I have my job, my life. I…how am I supposed to live?”

Price frowns and pulls his hand away. “For now, I’ll contact your job and have you put on an extended leave, we’ll call it a family emergency.”

“The hospital would soon rather fire me.”

“Not on my watch they won’t,” he replies with a grin. “I’ll have your apartment cleared of your necessities and brought here, the rent paid for the next few months, depending on how long this takes.”

She looks around the room. “I’m supposed to live here for this time? All day, every day? Like a bird in a cage? A prisoner?”

“Of course not. My mansion is yours to explore freely. I have acres of land that are patrolled regularly so you’ll be safe anywhere. The only rooms that are off limits are my office which connects to my bedroom, and the rooms of my men unless they allow you into them.” He looks at her. “I have an extensive library and gallery, a decent stable with horses, a vast kitchen—the choice is yours to go wherever and do whatever. If there’s something you’d like, simply ask and I’ll see to it that you get it.”

“And what if I want to go into the city and go shopping?” she challenges. “A girl can’t stay cooped up forever in a nest. She’ll go insane.”

Price smiles but it’s evident he’s already thought of her question. “We’ll see what we can arrange.”

She lets out a sigh and sinks back into her chair, all of it suddenly hitting her and she tears up, setting the cup down to wipe her face as tears begin to fall. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry. I don’t usually cry like this.”

He simply hands her his pocket square from his suit and says, “Cry all you’d like, love. It’s my fault you’re in this mess, and I promise to get you out of it smoothly the best I can.” Another few moments of her crying before she sits up straighter and wipes her eyes one last time and he smiles. “Done?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then perhaps, if you’re up for it, I’d like to introduce you to my men.” When he sees the pause on her face, he adds, “We don’t have to now, if you don’t, but given that they’ll be looking after you, it’d be important to get it over with.”

She nods her head and sighs, “I understand.”

Price smiles and looks to the door. “Boys.”

The door opens and in files three men one after the other, the first, a tall blonde with a black face mask to match the all black suit he’s in, the next, a slightly shorter man with a head of shaved sides in a blue, pinstriped suit, and the third, Kyle, the man she’d met previously in a green and brown plaid suit.

Price gestures to the first, “My second-in-command, Lieutenant Simon Riley, my first Sergeant John MacTavish, and you know Sergeant Kyle Garrick.”

She swallows thickly and looks over them with quickly warming cheeks. “How do you do.” She meets eyes with Kyle and offers him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for…shooting at you.”

The others snicker as Price shoots them a disapproving look and Kyle simply smiles back and shakes his head. “S’alright, sweets. No harm, no foul.”

Price looks over all of them fondly then back to her. “These are men I would gladly lay my life down for. I trust them beyond measure. None of them would ever hurt you.”

She glances at them, and they all show looks of pride but also have a demeanor of respect and determination. “Um, I’m (Y/N).”

The second one, John, grins at her. “Bonnie lass, ain’t ya? Definitely wouldn’t mind taking you on the town.”

Her cheeks get hot, and she looks at her hands, as Price scowls at him. “MacTavish, don’t forget you still owe Miss (L/N) one massive apology.”

John’s own face turns red as he looks at the ground, mouth snapping shut, and this time, Simon and Kyle laugh at him.

Price turns to her and smiles. “They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but a good lot. I’d like to have them rotate turns on keeping you company, if nothing else so you don’t go insane all alone here.”

“Oh, alright,” she agrees. “Will it be every day or every other…?”

He looks back at the men and then back to her. “Perhaps every week? I think a week with each one would give you adequate time to become comfortable with them. Less confusion to figure on who’s day it is when it’s simply someone’s week.”

“That sounds fine,” she nods and clears her throat. “Well, who is going to be with me first?”

Price smiles and pats her knee before standing and walking to the door. “I’ll let you have the honors of such a decision, love. That being said, I have some business to attend. I’ll see you all at dinner.” He looks at the masked one. “Simon, if she doesn’t choose you, I’ll need to see you in my office.”

“Yes sir,” he replies lowly, never taking his eyes off her as Price shuts the door behind him.

She’s left with the three men, an apprehensive look on her face as she stares back at the three men. “So…how’s everyone’s morning going so far?”

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Summary: Lucy awaits Tommy's return from his and Lizzie's honeymoon.

Word Count: 6,162

Warnings: Jealousy, depression, and sexual content.

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Chapter 4: Are You Still Mine

Upon her return to Arrow House on the night of the wedding, Lucy found that Lizzie did not have her things moved to a room down the hall, or even kept her in the same wing, as she had expected. No; she instead had ordered her moved to the entire opposite side of the house. The room was dark, the recipient of very little sunlight thanks to the way that its window was facing. And Lucy was pretty sure it had drafts.

Frances had asked her if she would like to change rooms, but she declined. She hated to ask the staff to move all her things around again, and if this was where Lizzie wanted her to be, she supposed it would be best to abide by her wishes. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.   

Ruby had gotten settled in her room and was becoming well acquainted with Charlie and the staff, but she cried nearly every time Lucy tried to pick her up. She was beginning to fear that the little girl hated her. Even though it was more likely that she was just missing her parents. 

Lucy had loved Ruby from the first moment that Tommy laid her gently into her arms. How could she not, when she was half him? And the girl was sweet as an angel, at least when she wasn’t wailing through half the night. 

“She’s really loud,” Charlie complained, wandering into the newly fashioned nursery one night while Lucy held Ruby as she cried, rocking her back and forth in the rocking chair and shushing her gently. 

“I know, Charlie. You can go sleep in one of the other rooms, if you’d like,” she suggested, but he had just come over, peering at his sister curiously. 

“Is she always gonna be this loud?”

Lucy let out a breathless laugh. “I hope not.”

He reached out to pat Ruby’s back awkwardly, before sitting down on the floor beside where Asher was laying near Lucy’s feet, petting the dog and keeping her company until the baby finally cried herself to sleep and Lucy managed to maneuver her into her crib without waking her, ushering Charlie back to tuck him into his own bed.  

“Is Lizzie my new mum?” he asked while she pulled the blanket up around him. Lucy hesitated, an ache blooming in her chest at the idea of Charlie calling Lizzie ‘Mum.’ But she swallowed it down. The last thing that the children needed was to be put in the middle of this whole messy arrangement between their parents. She wanted to shield them from that as much as she could. 

Do I even still qualify as Charlie’s parent? she mused miserably to herself. Lizzie would be in charge of a large part of his upbringing, and Lucy would be absent for undetermined swaths of time due to working with Tommy in London. Depending on how often she was gone at work throughout the week, she honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did start considering Lizzie more his mother than her.  

“If you want her to be. Or she can just be your friend. You can call her whatever you like, so long as you are respectful towards her, yeah?”

He nodded, but his little brow creased. “It wouldn’t upset you, if I called her mum?”

Yes. “No, sweetheart,” she forced a smile. “It wouldn’t upset me. I just want you to be comfortable with her.”

“I like her. She’s always nice to me.”

A stab of jealousy, white hot, twisted in Lucy’s heart, but she ignored it. All that mattered was that Charlie was happy and okay. She would not let her feelings get in the way of that. “I’m glad, Charlie. And I’m sure that your dad will be too. It’ll make it easier for him if you and her get along.”

He nodded, and she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. 

“Get some sleep, kiddo.”

“Night, Lucy.”

“Goodnight, Charlie. I love you.” She turned out the light for him and crept out the door, checking one last time on Ruby and making sure that the nurse was up and able to go to her if she woke up again. Satisfied, she then made the trek back to the other side of the house, Asher trotting at her side. 

At night, she laid awake in her bed, and tried not to think about how cold the space beside her was. Or what Tommy and Lizzie were most likely doing. Loneliness coiled around her, dark and with a touch like ice. She drew the blankets tighter around herself with a shiver. It had been so long since she slept alone. Tommy always made it his life’s mission to keep her warm; never a night passed when their bodies weren’t entangled, his arms around her and her head on his chest, their legs twisted together. 

She wondered if Tommy would even still want her by the time he got back.

He had a new plaything now. Lizzie was younger, taller, prettier, and unscarred. She was able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming from trauma-induced nightmares. She did not fall into hysterics when squeezed into a small, cramped space. Perhaps he would find that he preferred her.   

“Mrrp!” There was a soft sound, and then the ever so slight dipping of the mattress as a small body hopped up onto it. Lucy rolled over, opening the blankets to the little creature pattering towards her. 

“Hey, Trouble.”

The tortoiseshell cat meowed again, curling up against her side. Lucy let her fingers stroke through her soft fur, scratching her behind the ear and smiling a little when she started to purr. 

The bed dipped considerably as the larger bulk of Asher followed Trouble in jumping onto the mattress, laying down in the spot Tommy usually took up. He brought his cold nose in close to Lucy’s face, giving her a sniff before laying his head down by her chest, letting out a soft whine. She busied the hand not petting Trouble with stroking his deep black fur. 

“Thanks, babies,” she murmured quietly. Asher’s tail had thumped a few times against the mattress, as if he understood her.

For hours, she laid there in the dark, staring up at the canopy, tears silently streaming down her face despite her animals’ best attempts to comfort her.      

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy slipped out of the bedroom, careful to close the door softly so as to not wake Lizzie. Sneaking barefoot into the sitting room of the spacious suite they were renting for the week, he sat down heavily on the couch, reaching for the phone.  

He had called Arrow House twice since arriving in Paris, and both times, Lucy had not answered. The first time around, Frances had informed him that she had to go to London unexpectedly to deal with some issue at his office there, and the second time, she was out riding with Charlie.

He was beginning to worry that she was avoiding him. 

Her demeanor at the wedding reception scared him. The expression in her eyes was so sad, and she kept looking at him as if she expected never to see him again. He felt awful for just leaving her there, internally kicking himself for not insisting that she be allowed to come along on the honeymoon. 

He would certainly be having more fun if she was here. 

He was trying to ensure that Lizzie had a good time, but as for himself, well…everything in France was tainted for him. Memories of the last time he’d been there, elbow deep in mud, the dark walls of the tunnel closing in around him, kept replaying on a loop in his head. 

At night, he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Lucy who was under him, but the feel of it was all wrong. The way the hands that were on his body touched him wasn’t right, and try as he might, he couldn’t fully relax. 

He moved performatively, letting Lizzie touch and kiss him and guide his hands where she pleased, his mind only half there until she reached her peak and he hastily pulled out, fisting his cock and always finishing on her stomach. The last thing that he wanted was another accident. Much as he loved Ruby, he was not keen on the idea of having any more children to further shackle him and Lizzie together. 

Afterwards, he would lay there on his side of the bed, thumbing at his brow, and feeling like the biggest scum on the earth. 

It felt like he was cheating on her.

Even though Lucy agreed to it, even though she said it was fine, he couldn’t shake the sick feeling that he was betraying her. 

He would lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling and hating himself. He couldn’t sleep without Lucy. The weight of her in his arms, head resting on her spot on his chest, had grown to be akin to that of a child clinging to a teddy bear during the night for comfort. Without her, he found himself unable to relax enough to even consider dozing off.    

Lucy was a cuddler, always clinging to him like a koala every chance she got. He couldn’t even remember a time when they’d shared a bed and she wasn’t snuggled up against him. Lizzie, however, was not, preferring to lay on her own side of the bed, the most touching between them being her hand resting on the center of his chest. He tried holding her the first few times after they had sex, but it always felt wrong, and neither of them seemed to particularly enjoy it, Lizzie always drifting away to her own side of the bed when she was ready to actually fall asleep.  

With a heaving sigh, he dialed the number for Arrow House and lifted the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. With each buzz, his paranoia grew. He had never spent so long away from her. It left his nerves on edge. He just needed to hear her voice, even if only for a minute. 

A part of him was starting to fear that when they returned to Arrow House, it would be to find Lucy gone. Her things packed up and removed, nothing but a note or merely a message through Frances to offer clues as to where she’d disappeared to. Departed from his life forever.   

Please, love, pick up the phone. He knew that it was late, and she quite likely could already be in bed, but if he could talk to her for just a second, just one second…

What little hope he had dwindled with each buzz across the line, and he was about to hang up as the last ring reverberated in his ear, when the other end picked up. 

“Hello?”

For a moment, he couldn’t say anything, too relieved and emotional at the mere sound of her voice to form words. 

“Hi, love,” he finally managed to get out, swallowing roughly and clearing his throat after hearing how rough it sounded. 

Quiet on the other end. “Hey, Tommy.”

“I, erm…” he shifted awkwardly, “I called earlier…”

“I know, Frances told me. I’m sorry, I was out dealing with a disaster. I didn’t want to call back in case you two were busy…”

“It’s alright,” he plucked a cigarette from his case where it was laid out on the table, swiping it across his lips before lighting it. “Do you need me to come home?” Please say yes. “If there’s a problem…” 

“No, no, I got it all sorted. Don’t worry,” he heard what sounded like papers being shuffled in the background. “How’s the honeymoon going?”

“It’s fine.” He winced at how apathetic his voice sounded.

“Are you having a good time?” He could distinctly imagine her frowning, phone held to her ear by her raised shoulder while she juggled papers and a pen at her desk. Or maybe she was curled up on one of the couches, Trouble in her lap and a cup of tea or a glass of whiskey on the table beside her. Maybe a book she’d been reading when he called still clutched in one hand.

“Lizzie is.” He scratched at his brow, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “I’m sorry for calling you so late.”

“It’s okay. I was still up anyway.” 

“I thought maybe you would already have gone to bed.”

A pause. “I can’t really sleep right now.” Her voice was quiet, as if she was ashamed of it.

“Me neither.” He rested his elbow on his knee, leaning forward in a way that his back was likely to protest about later. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” A sigh. “Only a few more days.”

“Yes.” It felt like an eternity. “Listen, there are some travel brochures in my desk. Take a look at them. After I get back, we’ll go wherever you want. Just the two of us.”

A tiny sound that might’ve been the bitten off part of a chuckle sounded from the other end of the phone. “You can’t just take one holiday after the other, love.”

“Well, no…but after a little while. Pick something out, and we can start planning.”

“Alright.” Her voice raised a little, and Tommy exhaled a relieved breath at the thought that he’d managed to at least somewhat raise her spirits. 

“How are the kids?”

“They’re fine. They miss you. I took Charlie out on Mystery the other day. It won’t be long before he’ll be able to ride on his own.”

“Mm,” he hummed, smiling at the thought. “Give them a kiss from me.”

“I will.”

“Are you working?”

“Yeah, figured I might as well if I wasn’t going to sleep.”

“Try not to overdo it.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

He bit back a smile. An ache of longing throbbed in his chest. All he wanted was to see her face. That sparkle in her big eyes whenever she teased him. The impish twitch at the corner of her lips. He could take her into his arms. Pinch playfully at her hip and kiss the top of her head…

He was ripped unceremoniously from his little fantasy by what sounded like movement in the bedroom. His smile dropped. 

“I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, though she could not see him. “Just a few more days.”

They bid goodbye and he hung up the phone, wiping his hand down his face. Lizzie’s voice called out to him from the bedroom. Tommy sighed, trying to push away the sudden zing of resentment that flooded his veins towards her. Tipping his head back, he inhaled deeply from his cigarette, trying to cobble up enough willpower to return to his wife, despite the way his entire being longed so desperately for another. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She sat at her desk, listening anxiously for the sound of Tommy and Lizzie’s car pulling up to the house. They were due home any minute, and with each tick of the clock on the mantle, the tightness in her chest seemed to cinch a little more, making it hard to breathe. She kept fiddling with her rings, at risk of wearing away the skin or giving herself little blisters on her fingers with the way that she kept twisting and fidgeting with the metal. 

Charlie was playing with his toys on the floor, making little engine noises as he dragged his toy cars across the rug. Ruby was upstairs, taking a nap while the nanny and Cyril watched over her.

“When will Dad be home?” Charlie asked, looking up at her with blue eyes that were the perfect mixed shade of Tommy’s and Grace’s.

“Soon, kiddo,” she offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, putting her cigarette out in the ashtray and straightening out some of the papers on her desk. 

Her days since the wedding had been taken up with work. Which was fine; she was grateful for the distraction. Though she still often caught herself staring out the window, lost in her gloomy musings about the future.

It was not long until her ears pricked at the sound of a car approaching the house. Charlie immediately jumped to his feet, whooping in excitement and racing for the front door. Lucy smiled a little to herself at his enthusiasm, rocking back in her chair with her knuckles raised to her lips. The engine shut off, and she heard the sounds of car doors opening and closing, and then the hum of voices when Charlie greeted his father in the entryway.

She would hang back for a little while; wait until they had come inside and the children got a chance to see them first. 

Watching the second hand on the clock tick steadily around its circumference, she rubbed mindlessly at her lips. She would just wait until they were settled…

Oh, who was she kidding? She was stalling; frozen with terror over what sort of reception she was about to be in for. 

When the second hand had made five full circles around the clock, and her cigarette was almost entirely depleted, she stubbed it out in the ashtray and forced herself to her feet. Each footstep that carried her closer to the door of her office felt like it was bringing her closer to her doom, rather than the man who had been her lover for over eight years. 

She just stepped into the hall, moving to close the door behind her, when she heard heavy footfalls approaching so quickly that she barely had time to turn before he was on her. And then his hands were cupping her face, mouth slanting over hers. Lucy let out a startled little sound, leaning into him on instinct. One palm flattened on his chest over his heart,  whilst the other ran up his neck to cup the back of his head. Tommy kissed her hard, purring contentedly against her mouth, thumb stroking her cheek while one hand fell away to grip her waist and pull her closer. 

For a moment, the whole world fell away, and there was nothing but the soft press of his lips to hers. Head tilting a little, he deepened the kiss with a parting of his mouth and a deep stroke of his tongue against hers. Lucy could not quite contain the soft moan she let out in reaction, fingers curling tighter around his lapels. Body fitting snugly to hers, Tommy sandwiched her between himself and the door she’d just pulled closed a moment ago. The warmth of him seeped into her even through the layers of their clothes, his distinctive scent of smoke and pine trees surrounding her comfortingly.

When he pulled away it wasn’t to go far. He merely dropped his face into her neck, pressing kisses all along the column of her throat and pausing to nuzzle at her skin and breathe her in.

“Hi,” he sighed out, lips tickling her when they moved, his nose brushing tenderly against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lucy let out a quiet, somewhat bewildered laugh, her brain still working to catch up with the rest of her after being kissed passionately enough to make her head spin. 

“Hi.”

He finally lifted his head, still lingering in close enough that their noses brushed. His thumb stroked at her cheekbone, eyes lowered and gazing at her adoringly. When she rubbed her hand up and down the back of his neck, he made another soft purring noise from in his chest and shifted closer to her.

My big grumpy black cat, she caught herself thinking fondly. 

“How was it?” she asked, voice quiet despite it being just them in the hallway. 

His eyes swiped down her body, drinking her in with a look that made butterflies take flight inside her stomach. “Fine,” he said absently, fingertips playing with the collar of her white blouse. His eyes darted up to hers. “I missed you."

She opened her mouth to say that she’d missed him too, when commotion erupted at the other end of the hall. 

“Dad! Dad! Come see what I made while you were away!” Charlie cried out excitedly, entirely oblivious to what was going on between her and his father. He bounded up to them, latching onto Tommy’s leg and tugging. 

“Alright, alright, just a minute, Charlie, yeah?” Tommy gave him a fond ruffle to his hair, and Charlie nodded before zooming away in the direction of the stairs. Tommy watched him go, amusement flickering in his eyes before looking back at her.

“He’s been doing painting in his art lessons this week,” she explained. Tommy’s lips twitched upwards, but an apologetic look crossed his face, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers with a sigh. “Go,” she urged, rubbing at his forearm. “It’s alright.” 

He kissed her again. “We’ll catch up properly later. I promise.” Based on the coy glint in his eye, she knew he was not talking about just sitting down and chatting about his trip. A throb of warmth pooled in her lower belly. 

“‘Kay.”

He kissed her once more and reluctantly pulled away, just in time for Charlie to circle his way back to them, grabbing Tommy by the hand and half dragging him towards the stairs. She smiled at him when he shot an amused look at her from over his shoulder, before Charlie successfully led him out of sight. 

With a sigh, Lucy leaned back against the door, hand raising to rest on her chest, right on top of her collarbones. Relief washed over her like a cleansing waterfall, briefly taking with it the doubt that had been plaguing her since the wedding. 

That lasted only a moment, however, until she heard the click of approaching heels, and Lizzie rounded the corner, head held high with Ruby in her arms, the baby hoisted up against one hip. 

“Lizzie, hi, did have a good time—?” 

Lizzie walked right on past her, face drawn into a tight expression akin to that of thunder, eyes staring straight ahead. Lucy might as well have not even been there at all. 

She sighed, hands and fingers seeking out her rings to toy with as she watched Lizzie stride down the hall and vanish around the corner. 

∗ ∗ ∗

After Charlie took Tommy to see his paintings, Lucy returned to her office to wrap up what she had been working on before he and Lizzie had arrived. Hopefully that would give him and Charlie some ample time together.

Checking the clock and capping her pen, she tucked her files away into a drawer in her desk. Locking it with a key from her pocket, she took one last look around her office, checking to make sure that there was nothing else that needed putting away. Satisfied, she ventured out to find wherever it was that Tommy may have wandered off to. 

She didn’t need to look far. The muffled sound of voices led her to the main entryway, where Tommy and Lizzie were standing. Lizzie had her coat on, a picnic basket in the crook of one elbow and jaw set stubbornly, irritation flickering in her eyes.

“Lizzie, come on…” Tommy was saying.

“No, Tommy, this is important!”

“I’m not saying it isn’t, but I don’t see why she can’t come–”

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked, approaching them. Tommy looked over at her, his expression markedly different from the one he’d had when greeting her earlier. He looked tired and regretful. Almost haggard.  

“I arranged a picnic for me, Tommy, and the children,” Lizzie said, accusing eyes dragging away from Tommy to fix on Lucy. 

Lucy blinked at the blatant omission. “Just you four?”

Lizzie did not waver, chin angling up slightly. “The kids need some uninterrupted time with their father.”

“But you’ll be there,” Lucy added. Lizzie’s jaw clenched. 

“I already told Charlie about it. He’s excited.” Those accusing eyes darted between Tommy and Lucy, challenging. “He’ll be disappointed if we don’t go.”

Anger spiked in Tommy’s face. “Don’t you dare try to use Charlie–”

“Tommy,” Lucy half reached out to touch his arm, then thought better of it with Lizzie standing right there and already agitated. “It’s fine.”

He shot her a baffled expression. What she’s trying to do isn’t okay.

But she’s right that the children ought to have some time with their parents.

You’re Charlie’s mother. 

She gave him a sad smile. Was she? Still? Technically he had never been hers, even if she had always viewed him as such. 

He’s probably sick of me after a whole week of it just being me and him. The attempt at levity didn’t really work, Tommy’s frown still staying in place. So she tried again. The kids deserve to have more time with you. And it would probably be good for both of them to see you and Lizzie together. Charlie could use some bonding time with her, and having you around might help facilitate that. “We can catch up later,” she said the last part out loud. Tommy shot her a helpless, reluctant look. “It’s okay.” Already she could hear the clatter of Charlie’s little feet running towards them, eagerly latching onto his father’s leg. She couldn't bring herself to deny them time together. If it meant that she had to be left behind, so be it. 

In a movement that she sensed was both an attempt to soothe the sting and in defiance of Lizzie, Tommy leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Won’t be long,” he murmured, quiet enough so that only she could hear. Nodding, Lucy managed a weak smile. 

“Have a good time.” 

“Dad, c’mon,” Charlie took hold of his hand, and with one final sad look her way, Tommy let himself be pulled towards the doors. Lizzie was standing there, waiting. The nanny had come at some point with Ruby, now securely in Lizzie’s arms. Lizzie’s eyes were dark, lips pressed in a thin line while she watched them. But once Tommy joined her and they started to walk out the door and down the driveway, her expression melted into a giddy smile. Lucy stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the solid wooden frame, watching the smiling family walk away from her.

After they disappeared from view, she took a step back, closed the door, and with a sigh returned to her office.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy eyed Lizzie warily as they began the walk back to the house. She kept making excuses for them to stay out longer, until the sun was sinking low in the sky. And the entire time they were out, she kept shooting him these wide-eyed, hopeful looks that made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Even as he tried to distance himself from her, focusing his attention solely on Charlie and Ruby, she kept looking at him like that.

“Dinner will be ready shortly, sir,” Frances informed him as she helped him remove his coat. 

“Right. Thank you.” He barely got two footfalls away before Lizzie was calling for him again. 

“Tommy, will you come see Ruby’s new room?”

She has to be doing this on purpose. He looked over his shoulder at her. Lizzie’s brows were raised expectantly, Ruby already half asleep in her arms. Gaze shifting to his daughter, he sighed. 

Just for a minute, he told himself. “Alright.” He followed Lizzie up the stairs and down the hall, steps faltering and brow furrowing when she opened the door to Lucy’s room to reveal that the inside had been entirely redecorated and transformed into a nursery. The big canopy bed was gone, replaced by a crib and playmat. Where the vanity had once been, now there was a chest of drawers, a rocking chair by the window where a plush loveseat once was.  

His frown stayed in place as he followed Lizzie to the crib, bending his head to give his little Ruby a kiss before Lizzie laid her down for her nap. 

“Can you believe that she’ll be walking soon?” Lizzie shook her head, smiling and wiggling her fingers in front of Ruby’s face. 

“Mm,” he acknowledged, still looking around. Even the artwork on the wall was different. “This is Lucy’s room.”

“I asked her to switch so Ruby would be closer to us.”

Us. Just how often did she expect him to be sleeping with her? He thought that he had made it clear before the wedding what the sleeping arrangements would look like after the honeymoon.

“And she agreed to move?”

“Of course she did,” Lizzie’s tone sharpened, but at the way his brows rose in response she softened slightly, looking back at their dozing baby. “She wants what’s best for her.”

“Yes, she does,” he agreed. Don’t you dare try to use that against her. He had always been infinitely grateful for the love Lucy showed his children, despite their maternities. 

“We should go down for dinner,” Lizzie said, making her way to the door. After one last second spent glancing around the room, Tommy sighed and followed her. Lizzie moved with brisk steps, and Tommy allowed himself to lag behind, not particularly eager to spend anymore time with her after a week of being stuck in close quarters together.

A meow drew his attention, footsteps skidding to a halt when he spotted Trouble lounging on a windowsill in a patch of sunlight. She was watching him with those assessing green eyes, tail flicking back and forth casually. 

“Hey, girl,” he approached her slowly, suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was being strongly scrutinized. “Sleeping on the job, eh? Don’t you have mice to catch?” He reached out a hand to her, and she suddenly hissed, paw swiping out towards him. He barely managed to retract his hand in time to avoid the sting of her claws. “Alright, alright,” he held up both hands, taking a step away from the irritated cat. 

You left her, Trouble’s eyes seemed to accuse.

It wasn’t unheard of for Trouble to take swats at him from time to time. She had always been deeply protective of Lucy, and while he and the cat had mostly found common ground in their shared love for their little redhead, Trouble would always, without fail, be ready to bite or swat at him any time that he upset her.  

“I know,” he said softly in response to the cat’s silent accusation. “But I’m back now. Things will be like they were.”

Trouble just let out another meow. One that he was pretty sure meant, we’ll see.

∗ ∗ ∗

They served salmon for dinner, along with potatoes and steamed vegetables. Tommy sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, staring at the spread of food laid out in front of him. When the serving bowls were passed his way, he spooned only the smallest of portions onto his plate. Lizzie sat at his right. Charlie on his left. 

All the other chairs were empty. 

He frowned as both Lizzie and Charlie started eating, looking at the various entryways into the dining room, expecting to see his redhead enter at any moment. 

“Frances?”

She looked up from where she’d been pouring Lizzie a glass of gin. “Yes, sir?”

“Where’s Lucy?”

Frances looked between him and Lizzie nervously. “She’s working late, Mr. Shelby. She won’t be able to make it to dinner.”

He felt his brows draw in. Had something else happened that she needed to attend to? Did his absence this past week cause too much work to be put on her shoulders? 

His fingers ran mindlessly over the smooth handles of the silverware to the right of his plate, lips turning downwards.

Or was she avoiding them?

He wouldn’t blame her if she was. What did he expect; especially after he ditched her to go play happy families with Lizzie rather than spending some time with her after a whole week spent apart?

Should he go to her? Or would it be better to leave her alone until she decided she was ready to see him? He felt adrift, completely unsure of what to do. It was a feeling that was completely foreign to him when it came to Lucy. Normally he knew her inside out. Often able to anticipate her needs and emotions with ease. But this whole situation was uncharted waters for both of them.

Did she share his feelings that he had been unfaithful to her? Did she realize while he was away that she deserved far more than to be the mistress to a man who could offer her nothing but a broken, twisted heart? 

She deserved so much better than him. Even though he loved her with his entire being, it was not even close to enough. He frankly had a hard time fully understanding why she was still with him at all. 

“Right,” he cleared his throat roughly. “Make sure to send a tray of food to her office then, will you? I don’t want her to go hungry.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Beside him, Lizzie stabbed aggressively at her food and glared at him. 

After dinner was cleared away, Tommy stood hastily from his seat, prepared to sprint for Lucy’s office if he had to, but yet again Lizzie’s honeyed words beat him to it.

“Charlie, don’t you think it would be fun if the three of us all played a game together? You have some board games stashed away in the library, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” 

Tommy slammed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together. He wasn’t sure what frustrated him more: her constant sabotaging, or her using Charlie to accomplish it. 

“Wouldn’t that be fun, Tommy?” Lizzie asked, and he turned his head to meet her gaze, her expression nothing but sweet and coaxing while she fluttered her eyelashes at him. 

“Please, Dad? Please?” Charlie begged. 

Tommy exhaled once, deeply. “Alright.”

Charlie cheered, and took off towards the library. 

“We should invite Lucy to join us,” he suggested. 

“She’s busy. No need to bother her,” Lizzie stood, pushing her chair in and moving to follow Charlie. “Besides, I think it’s good for the two of us to have some more time with Charlie.”

“Lizzie.” He spoke slowly, taking very great care when choosing his words. “Stop using him.”

“I’m not–”

“Yes, you are.”

Her lips pressed together, eyes lowering. She said nothing for a few seconds, then sighed. “You’re going to have plenty of chances to spend time with her once you go back to work. I want Charlie to see us together, Tommy. He needs to understand that we’re a family now. And why I’m the one taking care of him when you aren’t here.” She looked up at him, eyes suddenly very vulnerable. “I’m nervous about how things might go when you aren’t here. He might not listen to me.”

Tommy bristled slightly at what she was insinuating.  “He’s a good kid, Lizzie.”

“I know, I just…look, I know Lucy is the closest thing he’s had to a mother since Grace died, and I’m not trying to replace either of them, but…I think it would be good for both of us if he at least recognizes me as your wife. And as his step-mother.”

“He likes you. He trusts you. He’s known you his whole life. Lucy and I have both explained to him that he needs to respect you. And if he doesn’t, Frances can help you with him while I’m away. It may take some time for him to adjust, but he’ll get there.”  

Lizzie nodded, looking down again, suddenly seeming very insecure, and Tommy immediately felt bad. This whole arrangement, while she’d agreed to it, couldn’t exactly be easy for her. She would need time to get adjusted too. 

“Let’s go join him in the library. Before he bursts from excitement,” he suggested, standing and using a guiding hand to usher her towards where Charlie had run off. Lizzie glanced over at him, that hopeful, dare he say lovesick look appearing in her eyes once more. He swallowed harshly, tempering down his suspicions and concerns about what exactly she was trying to achieve here. She knew what she agreed to.

Surely she could not be hoping that there was a chance he would concede to changing the entire arrangement that the three of them had come to, could she?

That would be foolish. He and Lucy couldn’t have been more clear about how things were going to be if they tried.

But still, his nerves piqued, alarm bells going off in his ears, their shrill cries only growing when Lizzie reached down to take his hand as they made their way to the library.

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[jrob64]

A Love/Hate Relationship - a CS modern AU one-shot

I wrote this story because I was in need of fluff, humor and hurt/comfort after the painful experience of losing two dogs in less than a year. Zeke, who was in my story Sowing Seeds of Trust, died of cancer last June. Two months later, we adopted Winston, who was the main character in Pet for Rent. Somehow, he swallowed part of a brush (while he wasn't at home) which perforated his intestines and caused internal bleeding. He died May 23. Writing my favorite trope for my favorite couple is therapeutic for me as I deal with my heartbreak.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 and @hookedmom.

Summary: Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused.

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Story is under the cut

*********

Killian Jones buried his face in a pillow and pulled it up over his head in an attempt to stop the incessant pounding. After several painful moments, he realized the noise wasn’t in his head, but was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Groaning, he tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his head in his hands for a short while. When he finally got to his feet, he swayed dizzily and stumbled into the door frame, leaning against it to try to regain his balance.

He eventually made his way across the living room, unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open. “What?” he demanded loudly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut before even registering who was on the other side of the door.

“Jones, how many times do I have to tell you to…Wow! You look like hell.”

Killian cracked his eyes open enough to see his neighbor from across the hall, Emma Swan. Infuriating to the highest degree and just as beautiful, she was the last person he wanted to see while he was in his current state. The two of them had a love/hate relationship…minus the love.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot when he moved in a little over a year ago. Unaware that she was a police officer who worked the night shift, he woke her up shouting orders at the movers. Emma Swan was not a morning person, especially after working an eight hour shift on the streets of Boston, and she informed him of it in no uncertain terms.

After that day, every interaction between them was filled with tension and snarkiness. Killian wished they could go back to when they met and start over again, because he knew she was basing her hatred of him on that first impression. In all honesty, he was quite intrigued by the fierce blonde and would like to know if there was a sweet or funny side of her she kept hidden very deep inside. Very, very deep.

Now she was here, standing at his door, scrutinizing him like a bug squashed on the bottom of her shoe. “Hangover?” she smirked.

He sighed. “I have the flu, Swan. It’s been going around at the office and I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid it. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, is there something I can help you with? If not, I’d really like to go back to bed.”

She took a step forward and unexpectedly pressed her palm to his forehead, then both hands to his unshaven cheeks. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Usually accompanies the flu. Now if you’ll…”

“Do you have medicine?”

“No, I…”

“Have you eaten? Are you drinking plenty of fluids?”

“I haven’t…”

“How long have you had it? Have you seen a doctor?”

Killian rested his pounding head against the door. “Must you use your interrogation techniques on me? I haven’t committed a crime, you know.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, clearly offended.

“I could use less help and more sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yes, good,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. “Go back to bed and I’ll get you something to drink. Do you want water, juice or…”

“More questions, Swan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“All you have to drink is water, Dr. Pepper Zero and beer?” she asked, peering into his refrigerator. Closing it, she straightened up and began opening cupboards. “Do you have tea bags? British people like to drink tea, don’t they?”

He knew it would hurt his head to roll his eyes, so he simply threw up his hands and trudged off to his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Emma celebrating the fact that she’d located the tea bags.

He had just gotten back to sleep, when he was shaken awake. “What now?” he growled, flopping onto his back.

“I made some tea and found Advil in your medicine cabinet. You need to drink something and get these pills in you.”

He raised his head and blinked up at her blearily. “You went through my medicine cabinet?”

“Yeah. Did you know condoms have an expiration date? The ones you have in there expired almost two years ago. Better not use them, because they’re likely to break.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his head drop back down on his pillow. “Please just let me die.”

“You aren’t gonna die from the flu, Jones.”

“I meant from embarrassment,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit up,” she commanded, sliding her arm under his pillow and pushing until he did as he was told.

First, she handed him a bottle of water. After glaring at her for several seconds, he finally took it, then swiped the two pills she held in her other palm. He popped them into his mouth and downed them with the water.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“Deliriously,” she quipped. “Now drink your tea.”

He accepted the mug she offered him and held it to his lips. Cautiously taking a sip, he grimaced and spit it back into the cup. “Did you heat the water at all? It’s barely warm! And how bloody much sugar did you put in it?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to burn your mouth,” she explained haughtily. “And I put in the same amount of sugar as I put in my coffee. Four spoonfuls.”

“Four?” he questioned. “Are you trying to kill me, or just give me diabetes?”

“You’re not a very good patient, Jones. You could at least be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for your help.”

She ignored him, fluffing his pillow and pushing at his chest to get him to lay back down. “I found a can of chicken noodle soup in your cupboard. I’m going to heat it up.”

“Don’t add any sugar to it,” he groused, as she walked out of the bedroom, taking the tepid cup of tea with her.

“I heard that,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Of course she heard that, but didn’t hear when I told her to leave me alone,” he mumbled into his pillow. He tossed and turned, knowing that if he went to sleep, the maddening woman would just wake him up again.

Sure enough, she was back at his bedside within ten minutes, carefully carrying a plate containing a steaming bowl of soup and a small stack of saltine crackers. He sat up before she could order him to, and took the plate from her.

“You didn’t add anything to this, did you?” he asked.

“Nope, I just heated it up,” she assured him.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it and put it in his mouth, then promptly choked and sputtered. “Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t you add any water to this?”

“Why would I add water?” she asked, a confused frown forming on her face.

“Because Campbell’s soup is condensed. It’s too salty this way. Adding extra water dilutes it enough that it tastes like soup is supposed to taste, rather than tasting like…like the ocean. Haven’t you ever made soup from a can before?”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “I make Progresso soup all the time, but I never add water to it.”

“Progresso soup isn’t condensed. This is.” He took the stack of crackers, then thrust the plate back towards her. “I’ll just eat these, thanks very much. Now that you’ve tended to me, you can leave me in peace.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked.

Was that concern he saw on her face? Surely not. Emma Swan would never be concerned about him. It would be more realistic if she were to try to poison him. Perhaps he should have been more careful eating and drinking what she gave him.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear those thoughts, he said gruffly, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like you really helped anyway.”

This time, he thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, before she turned and left the room. Soon he heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have really seen Emma Swan look concerned and hurt, could he? Great. Now he was going to have to add hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

He ate the crackers, then lay down and turned onto his side, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders. He was achy and feverish, but it was the guilt over how he treated his apparently well-meaning neighbor that kept him from falling asleep.

*********

Three days later, after his fever had been broken for twenty-four hours, Killian went back to work. Upon returning home at the end of the day and getting his keys out to unlock his apartment, the door across the hall opened and Emma stepped out.

“Oh, hey Jones. Looks like you recovered, no thanks to me.”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I owe you an apology, Swan. I was rude and should have never said what I did.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I guess I’ll never be a Florence Nightingale.” Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See ya around.”

“Swan…Emma, wait,” he called out, hurrying after her.

She turned around. “What?” she huffed.

“I, uh, I truly am sorry. It was very kind of you to try to help me, but…”

“But what?”

“But why did you do that? I mean, given the fact you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you,” she interrupted.

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and looked down at the floor for several long moments. When she finally looked up, he was shocked to see the vulnerability on her face.

“Look… I’m not good with…people,” she said softly. “And I’m also not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

She paused and he waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

“None of the people I know would be concerned enough to check on me if I called in sick to work. You’ve lived here long enough for me to realize that…that you don’t seem to have anyone like that, either. I never see anyone coming or going on a regular basis - besides the pizza delivery guy, but I don’t think he counts.”

Killian chuckled dryly. “You’re very observant, Swan.” He paused for a moment, debating whether he should open up to her as she was to him. “And you’re also correct,” he added finally. “I moved here from England when I was transferred for my job, and I don’t have any close friends yet.”

She nodded. “I figured it was something like that. The day you moved in, I was…well, to put it bluntly, I was a bitch. And, as I said, I’m not good at apologizing, so I just let things go on being…uncomfortable. When I saw that you were sick the other day, I thought it was my chance to make things better between us, but I screwed that up, too. I just…I guess I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to be alone while you were suffering - that there was someone who cared. I…I’m sorry I made things worse.”

“You didn’t make things worse,” he assured her. “I appreciate the effort. Actually, if you think about it, it was really quite comical.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And they do say laughter is the best medicine, so your failed attempts at helping are probably what cured me so quickly.”

Seeing the grin on his face, the corners of her own mouth turned up a bit. “You’re an idiot, Jones.”

He took a step closer. “How about if we start over, Emma? It would be nice to have a friend living across the hall.”

She eyed him, chewing her lip in contemplation. Then she held her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He reached forward to give her hand a firm shake. “Killian Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

She smiled and he was amazed at how it transformed her already lovely face. They stood awkwardly for several moments, until Killian said, “Well, I should let you go. Were you on your way to work?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was just going to get something to eat.”

He rubbed his hand along his jaw, dropping his eyes as he asked, “Would you, um…would you like some company?” Looking back up, he saw her eyes widen and hurried to add, “Just as a friend. As you well know, I don’t have much to eat in my apartment.”

She snorted out a laugh. “You still have more than I do at my place.” Turning away from him once again, she said, “If you’re sure, you’re welcome to join me. I was just gonna go to the diner around the corner. Tonight’s special is grilled cheese and onion rings.”

“Ah, greasy diner food,” he said, beginning to follow her. “You do know if you keep eating that stuff, your arteries are going to be filled with sludge.”

She chose to ignore him as she started down the stairs. “They have the best hot chocolate, too.”

“How much sugar do you add to it?” he grinned.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “No sugar, just cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon in hot chocolate? Sounds…interesting.”

She stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. “If you’re gonna make fun of my preferences for food and drink, you’re uninvited.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said, “I meant no offense, Swan. Perhaps I’ll even give your…unique concoction a try.”

That meal led to another, and many more. Soon they added regular coffee dates. Gradually, at Killian’s urging, Emma tried and eventually acquired a taste for black coffee, no sugar. Even more gradually, at Emma’s urging, Killian acquired a taste for greasy diner food.

Six weeks after Emma’s attempt to nurse Killian back to health, they went on their first official date. Killian was very happy to discover that Emma Swan did indeed have both a sweet and funny side. They realized they had many things in common, as they talked during their dinner at one of Boston’s most renowned restaurants, then walked along the waterfront.

At the conclusion of the date, they shared a kiss outside her apartment door, which opened both of their eyes to the fact that there was a significant spark of attraction between them. As they continued to date, the spark ignited into a blazing flame. (They made sure to replace the expired condoms in Killian’s medicine cabinet, once it was obvious they were going to put them to use.)

They became each other’s ‘person’ - someone to laugh with, cry with, share everything with, and nurse back to health when the need arose. By the following winter, when the flu made its way through Killian’s office once again, he had his own live-in nurse, whose skills were much improved from the previous year.

By that time, they still had a love/hate relationship…but now, it was minus the hate.

*********

A couple of fun notes:

-Colin was drinking a Dr. Pepper Zero during the Meet & Greet I went to at GalaxyCon in Columbus last year.

-At another con several years ago, Jen admitted she never drank black coffee until Colin got her hooked on it. (No pun intended!)

*********

Thank you for reading.

Tagging:

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[dearchloe]

one big appy family

All characters are 18+

I was exhausted. Just back from my first term at university, wiped out from a long day of travel by a succession of trains, all of which had been either cancelled, delayed, or moved to a platform at the other end of the station at the last moment, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed from the moment I got home. Instead, I had to fend off a round of interrogatories from my parents and neighbours, pretend to be sociable as far into the evening as I could manage, tell them all the same (sanitised) freshers' week stories that they'd already heard twice before, and choke my way through a three course meal before finally being allowed to retreat to the sanctuary of my childhood bedroom and disappear under the covers into blessed oblivion.

It lasted, by my reckoning, about two hours.

I woke suddenly, the house in darkness and quiet at last, and stared into the black void that was my room, such an adjustment now after the past months of thin curtains above city-bright streets. For a moment, I wondered why I had returned to the land of the waking — and then a part of the darkness shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, and I knew, and I sighed internally at what was no doubt soon to come.

"What is it, Vicky?"

My sister came closer, sitting uninvited on the edge of the bed. "Erin?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you too. But I swear to god, if you've woken me up just to tell me that..."

"No, I didn't."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm wet."

Like a lot of people, I had to help look after my sister when I was growing up.

Unlike a lot of people, it was my older sister.

To anyone else, this would be strange. To me, it was simply my family.

"Let's see." Reluctantly, I pulled myself upright and leaned forwards, giving Vicky's nappy a good squeeze through the fluffy fabric of her pyjamas. She simply sat there, unresisting. "You'll last till morning. Get back to bed."

"But Erin! I'm gonna leak!"

"Keep your voice down."

"My bed will get all wet!"

"And I'll end up cleaning it, and probably bathing you as well, so what do you care?"

She whined. "It's yucky!"

"Bed. Now. I'm tired."

"But Erin..."

I clicked on my bedside light. "Victoria Drover. Just because I've been away, do you think the rules have changed?"

"... No."

"So what do you absolutely not do at night?"

"... Get out of bed."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Vicky?"

"But... But I need..."

"No, you don't." I put out a hand and grabbed my phone from the bedside table, and my sister suddenly assumed an expression of total panic.

"Erin... Erin, please... I'll be good..."

"Should have thought of that before." I opened my phone and flicked through the apps, looking for one I hadn't used in a while. When I was at home, the tracker app that the family used to keep tabs on Vicky's needs and behaviours lived at the top of my Most Used list. The rest of the time, I hardly opened it.

I ignored Mum's latest nursing stats on the Food tab and clicked into Sleep instead. As Vicky watched, bouncing from one foot to the other with nerves, I found the point where Mum had registered her as going down for the night, opened the entry, and edited the end time. Then I put my phone down on the covers and looked up at my older sister.

"Ok, Victoria. I'm going to put you back to bed, and if you go down ok for me, I'll write that you had a nightmare and I got you back to sleep. If you're going to give me a hard time, I'll write down what really happened. And your sleep stats don't look too good this month, do they?"

Mum kept a religious watch on Vicky's sleeping, feeds, and nappies, helped by the comprehensive recording service offered by the app. If any one of them didn't come up to scratch, she had a range of unpleasant methods of correcting it. For sleep, the answer was usually to put my sister on a newborn schedule — eighteen hours a day, more or less only interrupted for feeds and changes. But that was a hell of a lot of work for anyone involved, and I wasn't too proud to save myself the effort if it was possible.

My sister sighed. "Fine."

"If you're good, I'll change you first thing tomorrow." I glanced down at her records. "Though I think you're overdue to make a stinky nappy for us, so you might want to work on that."

"Night, Erin."

"Night, Vicky. Sleep well."

"Sleep wet, more like."

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Eddie’s pale skin shone brightly in the moonlight and his eyes were soft as Steve used a cloth to clean them both up. It was the first time in his life that sex had felt like making love. He could feel the distinction so clearly now, how different Eddie’s touch was compared to everyone else’s. How they came together like a symphony instead of a collision. Steve laid back down next to him, as close as he could get, so they shared a pillow, shared breath. Eddie reached out and trailed his hand down Steve’s face, gently. So gently. Rain fell softly on the roof of the trailer, but Steve and Eddie were warm and comfortable. If only they could stay in the moment forever –

A crack of thunder tore Steve from his dream. It was raining heavily, the pitter patter loud against the window glass.

Rain… Steve hadn’t heard rain in so long…

He sat up quickly and disturbed the person who was sitting in the chair beside his bed. There was always someone in the chair when he woke up. Hopper must have pulled some strings to ensure that even if he or Joyce couldn’t be there, someone else was. He wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t trust him or because they just didn’t want him to be alone. The nurses and doctors were fine, not overly friendly but still professional.

“Whatsit?” Robin mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Steve was already halfway out of the bed when she finally looked up at him.

“Hey Dingus,” she said affectionately, unguarded from having just woken up.

Steve scrunched his face. Dingus?

Robin’s very expressive face fell at his confusion. “We don’t know each other well?” she asked, fiddling with her fingers.

He knew Robin, but he wouldn’t say he knew her well. They had a few classes together in high school but hadn’t hung out together. She had joined The Party after Vecna possessed Chrissy and then killed her in Robin’s bedroom. Not knowing what else to do, Robin ran. The police immediately took her fleeing as a confession of guilt, but Nancy convinced The Party that Robin couldn’t have hurt Chrissy. From then on, she was one of them. She had fought beside them. She had died beside them.

“I became friends with my Robin near the end,” Steve replied as he stood up, “but no, I didn’t know her well.”

Robin stood up too, hands out like she wanted to touch him, steady him. He was glad that she didn’t try.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Going outside.”

“It’s raining outside.”

“I know.”

She looked at him intently, up and down. He was wearing hospital pajama pants and a t-shirt, with bandages covering most of his exposed skin. They had stitched up the wounds he had acquired over the past year, cleaning the older ones that had healed badly and fixing up the newer ones he hadn’t bothered with himself. He felt weak even though he had been doing nothing but eating and sleeping for days. The small hospital room had become his world, but sometimes he felt like none of it was real, that he had lost his mind. That’s why he needed to get outside…to feel the rain. To feel something other than the grief and anger that had been consuming him.

“What do you need?” she asked, surprising him. Steve had been expecting her to try to get him back in the bed.

“Will you take me?” He could probably figure out how to get out himself, but hospitals were mazes and it would be easier if she could show him the way. Also, he may need help avoiding the night nurses.

She nodded and went to grab his hand, but he pulled away. Her face shuttered and she bit her bottom lip.

“Follow me,” she said as she turned towards the door.

He took his first few steps cautiously, but by the time he made it across the room he was already feeling steadier. Robin led him down the hall, past an empty nurse station and a waiting room, toward an elevator. They both got on and she pushed the button for the ground floor. Time slowed to a crawl as they stood beside each other. If any of this was a normal situation, Steve would have felt the need to fill the silence. He would have asked her questions and tried to get to know her better. But this wasn’t a normal situation and Steve wasn’t the person he used to be. He was more comfortable with the silence now.

The doors opened and they stepped out into another hallway. Robin must have taken him to a side elevator because it wasn’t the lobby of the hospital. Smart. The front desk nurses probably wouldn’t let a recovering patient go frolicking in a summer storm. He looked over at her as they walked and was struck by the devastation on her animated face. Her eyes were tense and her lips were pursed, like she was trying to keep from crying. Steve didn’t want to feel bad. He didn’t know her and he didn’t care about her.

But he was lying to himself.

She must have been close to Other Steve. He thought back to Eddie’s words about hurting the kids. He wasn’t trying to hurt any of them, but he didn’t know what they wanted from him. He didn’t know how to talk to them. He felt off-kilter. Joyce kept telling him to act like he normally would around them but how could he? It felt like he needed to repeat every conversation he had ever had so he could pick apart what was the same and what was different.

He cleared his throat and asked, “you and Steve were good friends?”

She looked surprised that he had spoken. “The best,” she replied with a small sad smile.

They turned a corner and Steve could see a glowing red exit sign above the door at the end of the hallway. He started walking faster, desperate to get outside now that he could see it. He didn’t hesitate at the door, just pushed his way through it and shot out into a dark parking lot.

The wind and the rain immediately began buffeting against him as he walked further away from the shelter of the hospital. Steve closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sky, letting the rain soak him. It was cold and refreshing and goosebumps erupted on his skin. Lightning cracked across the sky and thunder rolled in the distance. The world smelt earthy, musky, alive.

This world was alive.

Steve’s heart thundered with the storm.

The rain washed away his tears and caressed his neck and collar bones before continuing down his body like a long-lost lover. He opened his mouth to it, let the water fill him before swallowing. Nothing had ever tasted so clean, so good, so vital. The wind whipped his hair around his face and tried its best to remove his clothes. He barred his teeth at the sky in a crazed imitation of a smile.

Another crack of lightning blazed across the sky, drawing him from his reverie. He turned around and saw Robin holding the door open for him, the light from inside haloed around her. His clothes were soaked through and he had begun shaking, but still… he smiled. Because it was real.

“Steve!” Robin screamed but he could barely hear her. Her voice was snatched away by the wind as if it didn’t want him to hear, didn’t want him to go. “Get back inside!”

He wanted to shake his head, turn back around, and run until he got lost in the storm. But he was cold and the light around Robin looked warm and inviting. He jogged back to the open door and Robin slammed it shut behind him. He could still hear the rain, but it was muted now through the metal and glass. He shook his hair out like a dog. Robin shrieked and backed up with a laugh. He smiled at her, his teeth starting to chatter.

She smiled hesitantly back. The air conditioning was on in the hospital and the cold air shooting from the vents was freezing Steve to his bones. Her smile quickly turned into a frown of concern.

“Let’s go, we need to get you into dry clothes.”

Steve nodded and they headed back to the elevator. She pushed the button and they waited as Steve rubbed his arms and jumped from foot to foot trying to get his circulation moving again. The elevator must be on the highest floor because it was taking its sweet fucking time. Robin kept glancing over at him with that worried scrunch on her face.

“I’m fine,” he stuttered out.

She looked down for a moment, mumbled something he couldn’t hear, before her gaze shot up and met his. She held her arms out wide open.

“Can I?” she asked.

She wanted to hug him, to help him warm up while they waited. Steve swallowed. He hadn’t had a chance to get to know his Robin before she died. Didn’t have years of memories with her, only a few terrified months. This Robin would probably be the easiest person for him to connect with in this universe. He wouldn’t be constantly trying to analyze similarities and differences; he could just get to know her like a normal person. Was that fair to her though? She said her and Other Steve were best friends. But he needed someone here, and she had helped him. He knew Joyce and Hopper even less, didn’t know how he felt about them, and Eds – Eddie – Munson was right out. The kids… he couldn’t lean on the kids, didn’t even know what to say to them after their last conversation.

While he had been thinking her arms had slowly started to drop back to her sides, that same devastation written on her face. He nodded jerkily at her. Surprised, she raised her arms back up and Steve slowly walked into them. She gently brought her hands up and rested them on his back. He held himself stiffly at first, unsure of himself and her. But she was so…

Warm.

He sighed and collapsed into her, his nose seeking the warmth of her neck. She shivered and gripped him tighter before she started to aggressively rub him. His skin tingled, nerve endings shrieking. His wet hair dripped onto her and he was probably soaking her with his wet clothes but she didn’t seem to care. She smelled like home cooked meals, clean laundry, and licorice. His eyes felt heavy as she continued to rub his back and arms. He was leaning on her hard when the elevator dinged. He flinched and she let him go. Stepping back a little he ran his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it off his forehead.

They got on the elevator and she pushed the button for his floor.

“So… What was all that about?” Robin asked. She was calmer now that he wasn’t shaking so hard.

“It doesn’t rain in my universe anymore,” he replied. It was the first thing he had told any of them about what his home was like. “I haven’t seen it in… a year, or more.”

“Oh.” She looked over at him. “That makes sense. Better than the mental breakdown I thought you were having.”

He huffed out an almost chuckle. “Still having a mental breakdown, just not the one you thought I was having.”

She waved her hand at him dismissively. “Who isn’t?”

He liked how she talked to him. She was still a little wary, a little hesitant, but she didn’t treat him like he was a second away from breaking into pieces.

“Thanks.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him in question.

“For helping me get out.”

She smiled widely. “I’ll always help you get out, Steve.”

The elevator doors opened and they continued down the hallway. Unfortunately, the nurse station was not empty this time when they turned the corner.

“What the hell did you do?” the nurse yelled as soon as she saw the dripping, freezing mess that was Steve Harrington. He grinned and winked at her, feeling a tiny bit like his old self.

“Livin’ a little, you should try it sometime.”

---

A week passed before Steve’s doctor finally declared him well enough to continue healing outside of the hospital. He had a strict meal plan, antibiotics, and an appointment to come back and get his stitches checked. Hopper and Joyce had decided without consulting him that he would be coming to live with them ‘while he got back on his feet,’ which made Steve irrationally angry because he was a goddamn adult who could take care of himself. He thought about running but Hopper had made some sense when he mentioned that he didn’t really know anything about this universe. Literally anything could be different and he would have no idea how to navigate it. Dinosaurs could be roaming around for all he knew. He also had no money or car or any semblance of a plan.

So.

Steve would live with them for a little while and learn what he needed to know.

The kids had given him his backpack when he had first woken up, it didn’t look like they had gone through it. Hopper had brought him some clothes and with the addition of Other Steve’s wallet he was ready to go. He signed his discharge papers and walked with Joyce down to the parking lot where Hopper was pulling up in the Chevy Blazer. He tossed his bag in the backseat and crawled in after it.

“Excited to get out of the hospital?” Hopper asked, trying to fill the tense silence as he merged with the street traffic.

“Yup,” he replied as he stared out the window, examining Hawkins. It looked the same, it all looked the same.

He saw Hopper and Joyce exchange glances out of the corner of his eye.

“I know Will and Eleven are excited that you’ll be living with us. They’ve spent the last few days getting your room ready,” Joyce said with a happy tilt to her tone.

Steve didn’t know how to feel about that. Would they decorate his room based on how they thought Other Steve would like it? Would it look just like his old room? Or completely different? He didn’t know which option he would prefer. He didn’t want to feel like he was tiptoeing around another person’s life but that’s exactly what he was doing.

“Sounds great,” he said instead of his actual thoughts.

More shared glances between the two of them and Steve fought back a sigh. Hopper turned up the radio and that was the end of them trying to pull him into a conversation. For now, anyway.

When they pulled up to the house, it wasn’t one Steve recognized. It was large, with a two-car garage and wrap-around porch. Will and Eleven sat on a porch swing by the door, waiting for them. They ran over as he got out of the chevy.

“Hello!” El said exuberantly.

“Hello,” he replied evenly.

“Everyone wanted to be here. To welcome you home, but Joyce said no. Dustin is very angry. He wanted you to live with him,” Eleven said with a satisfied smirk on her face. Will butted her with his shoulder but he smiled as he did it.

They walked to the door together and Steve already felt out of place as Hopper and Joyce asked the kids what they had been up to when they were gone, what they had eaten for lunch, and other little catching up questions. The house was nice on the inside, lived in. Shoes were scattered all over the entrance and portraits hung on the walls. He clutched his bag tighter and tried not to panic. He didn’t belong here.

He didn’t belong here.

He didn’t belong here.

He didn’t belong here.

He felt a very loose grip on two of his fingers and looked down to see that Eleven had grabbed him. He tensed for a moment before relaxing, he could pull his fingers out if he wanted. She gently led him up the stairs towards a closed door. Will followed behind them before ducking in front of them so he could open it.

Steve peered in. It was a normal looking room. It didn’t look like his, and nothing screamed that it belonged to someone else either. No knick-knacks cluttering the dresser or portraits on the wall. There was only a hand drawn painting of a green field and a golden sunset placed above the bed. A mirror stood beside the dresser and the bedside table had a lamp on it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“There’s clothes in the dresser but mom said she would take you shopping so you could pick out your own stuff too,” Will said, leading them into the room.

Steve nodded and walked over to the dresser so he could take a look. The top drawer had underwear, socks, and pajamas. The next one had some jeans, shorts, and shirts. The third had large comfortable looking sweaters. The yellow one on top jumped out at him and he took it out. He always felt cold.

“Welcome home, Steve,” Eleven said softly from behind him.

He turned to look at her and Will. Eleven speared him with the sincerity in her eyes but Will was looking away, probably afraid of what Steve’s reaction to her words would be.

“Thank you,” he said just as soft. What else could he say?

Will’s head jerked up and he met Steve’s eyes before smiling shyly at him. “We’ll let you get settled; mom will call when dinner is ready. Okay?”

He nodded and they closed the door behind them when they left. Alone again. He turned and looked around the room, his gaze catching himself in the mirror. He blinked at himself for a moment before frantically removing his clothes so he could see all of himself. Old scars and new bandages covered his body. His ribs stood out in stark definition and his eyes were haunted and sunken in his face. He didn’t recognize himself. He grabbed the mirror and turned it around before putting his clothes back on, including his new yellow sweater. He sat on the bed and sighed.

He could hear Will and Eleven chatting in the room next door, probably about him. Joyce was rattling pots and pans in the kitchen getting ready for dinner. The sounds coming from the house were comforting and Steve hated it. Hated that he was comforted by their presence. Hated even more that this was the first time he had the sounds of a family bustling loudly around their home. Not his family though, not his home. He pulled his backpack over and slowly took everything out. The Hobbit and his tapes went on the bedside table. His cigarettes and flashlight in the drawer. The canned food, canteen, blanket, and ammunition he left in the backpack before sliding it under the bed.

He put his headphones on, hovering them over his ears for a second before slipping them around his neck instead. He pushed play and turned the music up as loud as it would go. The Bruce Springsteen tape began playing exactly where he had paused it when he saw the portal opening days ago.

You can’t start a fire You can’t start a fire without a spark This gun’s for hire Even if we’re just dancing in the dark

Steve wished he had his nail bat.

Part 4

@vampireinthesun

[petertingle-yipyip]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 1,714

Summary: When you step out for a bit of cardio, you come back to a questionable scene. But your completely devoted boyfriend never falters.

The past 48 hours - give or take - had been an absolute nightmare. Matt had the brilliant idea of taking on his self proclaimed enemy on his own. The idiot came back covered in blood and slices, clattering around your bedroom and knocking over everything. The loud crashes woke you up, just in time for him to fall over as if dead and give you a heart attack. You ended up falling off the bed when you scrambled to get up since your feet were tangled in the blankets.

You hadn’t realized Foggy was outside the door and heard the entire commotion, which caused him to burst in and discover Matt’s secret.

You sat with him and Foggy all night as they argued. You tried defending Matt and you agreed with Foggy’s points too. Ultimately, playing Switzerland in their war didn’t work out well.

After Karen left that morning, you mixed your usual workout drink and went out for a run. You went up and down the building’s stairs a couple times, ran about two miles, walked back, and then did a quick cardio circuit up on the roof.

By the time that was done, you were definitely hungry for some lunch. You wiped your sleeve across your eyes and mouth as you went to the door to the apartment. You opened it carefully in case Matt was asleep, but you found the opposite.

Before you could say anything and announce your arrival, you heard her voice. Claire. Gently, you closed the door behind you and tapped your screen to pause the music. You slipped your headphones back into the case quietly before shoving both into your pocket. You were glad you hadn’t entered through the front door.

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek while you scoffed softly. You ran a hand down your face to wipe the expression off as you leaned over the top railing, waiting to be discovered by the nurse. You watched with interest as Claire interacted with Matt. Matt’s attention shifted towards your direction and you saw his eyebrows raise slightly. You rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue softly.

Matt smirked that lazy, amused smirk he always did before returning his attention to Claire. You chewed the inside of your lower lip to keep your mouth shut. You pulled the sleeves of your jacket up and rubbed your hands together, an effort to move the heat radiating off your skin to your chilled digits.

“Well I got to see you with your shirt off so… That’s a plus.” Claire smiled, earning a small chuckle from Matt. You silently mocked her, shaking your head to punctuate your own annoyance.

“Thank you. And I know I say it a lot - probably doesn’t mean much anymore - but thank you.” Matt replied kindly.

They finished their small conversation before the door shut. You leaned over a little further to ensure she was gone before you looked back to your boyfriend. There was a silence that settled over you two for a few moments and you could feel it thickening in the air.

You didn’t doubt Matt could feel it, could probably feel your stare burning into his head too. He knew you were there. He would’ve heard you come in, heard that final deep breath from the other side of the door. He would’ve heard the water moving around your bottle and the faint music still playing in your headphones, the gentle scuff of your trainers against the floor and the light jingle of your keys in your pocket.

He would’ve felt the air shift as you opened and closed the door. He would’ve smelled your deodorant and the fruity smell of your workout supplements on your breath, even the sweat you had wiped away from your face.

“You’re staring at me, aren’t you?” He asked, turning his head up to you.

“You’re damn right I am.” You answered quickly as you hopped down the stairs and avoided the broken last step completely. That was a repair project slated for later that day after his fight with Stick just a few nights before. You slammed your water bottle on the coffee table - admittedly harder than you needed to - so both hands were free to gesture, though he wouldn’t see it. “What the hell was that?”

“What, Claire?” He asked innocently. You weren’t sure if he was joking or if he was really that clueless. And that made you want to punch him in his pretty face. “She- I needed her to stitch this up again. You were on a run so I called her.”

“Mmm.” You nodded, sucking your teeth as you crossed your arms. Matt huffed slightly at your reaction and offered a small pout. “That’s all? Just stitches?”

“Yes.” He nodded firmly.

“Right.” You rolled your eyes and stepped around him. Before you passed him, he reached out and grabbed your forearm. “What?”

Matt’s head was turned in your direction but he looked down. He was focusing on something other than your words as his thumb moved in small strokes against your skin so you yanked your arm away. You wondered what he was focusing on… Your heart? Your breathing? Maybe how sweaty you still were?

“You’re… jealous?” He teased.

“Of her?” You asked incredulously as you threw a hand in the direction of the door. You almost wished he would’ve just commented on your sweaty hair. “Oh please.”

“You are!” A cocky smile crossed his face.

“Shut up, Murdock.” You scoffed and made your way to the couch, purposefully stepping around him. “I’m not jealous of her.”

“So why was your skin so warm?” He asked as he sat beside you.

You mentally cursed yourself. Of course he noticed. He reached for your hand and while you defiantly crossed your legs, you let him. You ran the other hand over your neck and under your jacket to your chest. It was a lame attempt to cool down and even you had to admit that you were clearly warm.

“You’re about a degree and a half warmer than usual. And your heart-“ He leaned in and placed his head on your chest. “-is beating pretty fast.”

“I think you just wanted to put your head on my chest.” You joked and pulled your hand free of your shirt to pat the top of his head.

“Can’t blame me, sweetheart.” He shrugged weakly before turning and placing a small kiss on your sternum.

“Besides, I was on a run. Of course my heart rate is elevated and I’m gonna be warm.”

“Hmm, not like this.” He answered softly before carefully leaning back so he could face you. He put his hand on your thigh and gave a gentle squeeze. “I know your heart rate, Y/N.”

“I should be so lucky.” You replied with a small eye roll as you crossed your arms. “Tell me about my heart rate then.”

“It’s strong.” He began gently. “It almost never falters… It hardly ever gives anything away for you. It’s like- I can’t even put words to it. Your resting heart rate is pretty steady, and you regulate fairly quickly. So unless you sprinted up the stairs - which, judging by your breathing isn’t the case - something else is making your heart beat faster.”

“It’s nothing, Matt.” You used your free hand to pat his cheek gently while you smiled softly. No matter what, you always adored how he knew the little things.

“Your hands are cold.”

“Yeah, that happens.” You shrugged gently. “I think I’m anemic.”

“Hmm.” He hummed. “So what’s bugging you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re tense, too.” He smiled knowingly as he adjusted on the couch so he could lay his head in your lap.

“Careful, Matty.” You said gently after he groaned. “Or you’ll have to call your new girlfriend for more stitches.”

“And this.” He reached up and tapped your crossed over thigh, ignoring your latest comment. “You sit like this when you’re full of adrenaline. So either you’re jealous of Claire or you wanna kick my ass too?”

“I should kick your ass for flirting with her.” You sighed as you put your free hand under his head. You flattened your legs and extended them slightly so he could lay at a better angle. “Better?”

“Mhmm.”

“She has a crush on you, Murdock.” You explained, gently running your fingers through his hair. “And you have to be this- this sweet, charming, handsome badass that just so happens to need stitches. You’re like the perfect damsel in distress.”

“Did you just call me handsome?” He smiled.

“And a damsel.”

“And a damsel.” He laughed.

“But seriously, have you seen yourself?” You laughed.

“Not since I was a kid, no.” He shook his head as he suppressed his smile.

“Or would you prefer ‘hottie’? Dreamboat is an old one, but it works too. Or maybe pretty boy?”

“It all sounds perfect coming from you, angel.”

“Well you look like shit right now but that’s cause you’re also stupid as hell.” Your fingers gently passed over the injuries on his face while you frowned. The cuts, the bruises, the swelling. “But overall, yes. You’re very handsome.”

“I like hearing you say that.”

“I bet.” You smiled softly. “You do know that she’s into you, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“Why? Because as far as I’m concerned, I come home to you every night. You are my priority, always.”

“I like hearing you say that.”

“But do you believe it?”

“Yeah, I know.” You said lightly.

“Y/N.” He said honestly. “You do know that I don’t need anyone but you? What woman could compare?”

“I could rattle off a handful of books that end with the edgy, brooding bad boy falling for the sweet, gentle girl that just wanted to take care of him.”

“Okay… Sure.” He nodded after a moment of thought. “But I already did that.”

He reached out and his hand found your jaw. He gently squished your cheeks, which made you laugh. You pulled your face away and took his hand in yours instead. You kissed his bruised knuckles while he squeezed your hand.

“I’m already in love with you, Y/N… My Y/N.”

“I love you too, Matty.”