#sigh i've been doing this since before it was called fictober

[captainsophiestark]

Ghosts

Matt Donovan x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day 28 Prompt: "I may not get another chance to say this."

Summary: The scene where Matt jumps into the pool for a near-death experience, but with his SO instead of Bonnie.

Word Count: 1,288

Category: Angst, Fluff at the end

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I was busy digging through a school supply closet in the middle of the night when my phone rang. I jumped at the noise, adrenaline pumping at having snuck into the high school in the dead of night with my friends. It was for senior prank night, so it's not like we would get in terrible trouble if we got caught, but still.

I ditched the rolls of toilet paper I'd been gathering to spread all over the school and grabbed my phone to see my boyfriend, Matt Donovan, staring back at me from the caller ID. I quickly answered.

"Matt, good news, I found the tp jackpot."

"Y/N... you remember the summer we met, working as life guards together at the town pool?"

I furrowed my brow, scooping a few rolls of toilet paper into my free hand as I responded.

"Yeah..."

"And you remember the hours we spent in classes getting CPR certified?"

"Unfortunately, yeah."

"Well... I'm gonna need you to put it to good use. I'm at the pool. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but... I think Vicki is trying to talk to me."

"What? Matt, what the hell are you talking about?"

I dropped the rolls of toilet paper and shut the closet door, then started heading for the pool.

"Jeremy told me he's been able to see ghosts since Bonnie brought him back from the dead," he said. I sped up, panic setting in a little at the tone in his voice.

"Matt, I'm not magic. And Bonnie barely managed to bring Jeremy back-"

"You don't need magic for CPR. I know you'll save me."

"Matthew Grant Donovan, don't you dare-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I have to do this. If Vicki needs my help... I can't leave her. I trust you to save me."

"Matt, you're being insane!" I'd started running for the pool now, still not totally sure what Matt was thinking but definitely sure it wasn't good.

"I trust you to save me," he repeated. "But listen... just in case... I may not get another chance to say this, so... I love you. A lot. And after everybody I've lost, I can't tell you how happy I am to have you in my life."

"Whatever the hell you're thinking of doing, Donovan, don't-"

The call ended. I swore and shoved my phone into my pocket before doubling my pace. I slammed through the doors to the school's pool a few moments later and found Matt's shoes and keys at the pool's edge. I looked into the pool and found a shape floating near the bottom. Matt.

The kind of calm that only comes in a crisis washed over me, and I chucked off every layer of clothing I could easily lose before diving into the pool, using my momentum to reach Matt faster at the bottom. He'd strapped a weight around his stomach, the dumbass, and I quickly unfastened it before wrapping my arms around his waist and pushing upwards, shoving both feet off the bottom of the pool. Matt was heavy, but we rose quickly, and the urgency of the situation gave me the little extra strength I needed to heave him over the edge of the pool and onto dry land.

I took deep breaths as I leapt out of the pool, turning Matt over and checking for a pulse. I breathed a half sigh of relief when I found one, weak and thready though it was. I leaned over to check if he was breathing next, and found he wasn't. I didn't waste a second before calmly tipping Matt's head back, pinching his nose, and giving him two rescue breaths. I watched carefully to see his chest rise with my breath, then leaned back for a moment before doing another round.

I kept going, that emergency calm just starting to fray when Matt jerked awake, sitting up straight and looking at me wildly. He'd almost headbutted me right in the face he'd moved so fast and so suddenly, but thankfully I managed to rock back on my heels before he could make contact. We both sat still for a few moments, staring at each other with wide eyes while the adrenaline rushed through us, and then I punched Matt in the arm, hard.

"Ow! What the hell?" he cried, rubbing at his arm. He was dripping wet and still struggling to catch his breath a little, but the wave of calm had completely receded, and it had been replaced by pure anger.

"That's my line!" I screamed, smacking Matt a few more times, albeit with less force. "What the hell were you thinking? How could you do that to me? Do you know how horrifying it was to come in here and see you at the bottom of that pool? To think I might lose you? That I might fail, and you would die?"

"I'm sorry-"

"Not good enough! I get that Vicki is important to you, and you're still dealing with her death, but-"

"I saw her! I saw her, Y/N. She gave me a message for Bonnie."

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes, trying to get better control of my temper before I spoke again. After a second, I met Matt's wide blue eyes.

"Matt, you should've gone to Bonnie first. Or Jeremy. Or done literally any of about a thousand things before you tried to drown yourself, leaving me with a phone call and nightmares for the rest of my life about your dead body."

He looked down, guilty, shaking his head a little. I just sighed, sinking down onto the pool floor to sit next to him. We stayed like that for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and both of us processing. Finally, Matt looked at me again, distress written on every inch of his face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. And I know that's not nearly enough for what I did, but... I hope it's at least a start. Everything that happened with Vicki... I think about it every day. I think about her every day. And I got so wrapped up in the chance at seeing her again that I didn't even think about putting you in the same position. I know it's too late to take back what I did but... I swear, I'll never do anything like that to you again."

I sighed, flopping my head onto Matt's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, and although we were both soaking wet and I'd started to get a little chilled, it didn't seem important right now.

"Never again, Matt? You swear?"

"I swear. On everything that's ever been important to me, I swear."

I nodded, still not picking my head up from his shoulder.

"Then okay. I can forgive you, and we can get through this. But seriously Matt, talk to me first next time. And then we'll talk to everyone else, and then we'll figure out a better plan than the one you just came up with."

"Deal."

"Good. Now let's get out of here and change into some dry clothes. Then we can find Bonnie and do whatever we can to help your sister."

Matt and I stood together, leaning on each other as we headed out of the room. No matter how many stupid plans he came up with, it didn't change the face that I loved him. We'd find a way to figure things out, no matter how weird Mystic Falls got.

Although, if I said I wasn't looking forward to leaving this town after graduating at the end of the year... I'd definitely be lying. Hopefully with a few more disasters like this, I'd be able to convince Matt it was worth it to leave too.

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[leiascully]

OctoberFicFest Day 2: Tea and Coffee

Tagging @xffictober

The first time she wakes up next to Mulder, she stays very still for a moment.  Well.  She’s woken up next to him a hundred times before, but never naked in her bed.  She savors the precious fragile moment of peace.  She thought she would be nervous, or afraid, or regretful; instead, joy bubbles up inside her, percolating through all the layers of defenses she’s built over the years.  None of them strong enough to withstand one lonely whim, it seems: a pair of forest-green eyes, a pair of warm and agile hands, and the voice that sounds like home to her.

She lies next to the slumbering warmth of him for long minutes, cozy under the covers.  He has not stolen the duvet in his sleep, or thrown a possessively oppressive arm over her.  Just his hand is pressed to her shoulder, and when she shifts, he nestles further into the covers.  She eases out of bed and wraps herself in her robe, not bothering to put any clothes on.  This is, for the time being, her Eden.  She will let herself be innocent and unashamed.  

In the bathroom, she tries to flush quietly.  She brushes her teeth and splashes a little water on her face.  Her own eyes look bright.  The crease between her brows has smoothed away.  She goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on.  While the water boils, she measures coffee into a pour over filter.  Her mother always made pour over coffee for her father, when he came back from the sea.  Sometimes he would let her have a sip.  It tasted richer than the drip coffee they usually made, more like the sun and the earth that had made it.  She saves it for special occasions.  She only has one filter, but she can make two cups of coffee, for the two of them.  Or maybe she’ll make one, and they can pass it back and forth between them, just something to sustain them before they pull themselves together and go out to face the world.  She’d like a big plate of eggs and hash browns, a rare craving.

The kettle begins to whistle and she pulls it off the heat before it can scream and wake him.  She pours the water in a careful stream over the grounds.  The steam rises, curling the wisps of hair around her face.  The scent of the coffee wafts up, smelling like devotion and faraway lands.  She inhales deeply and smiles.  She sets the kettle back on the stove and pulls a second mug out of the cupboard.  Her eyes pass over the box of teabags on the counter and a cold uncertainty grips the back of her neck.  She’s had coffee with Mulder many Saturday mornings, but never after moaning his name in the middle of the night as he swore, over and over, that he loved her, that he needed her, that he’d been waiting all his life to be in her arms.  What if he prefers tea, the morning after he makes passionate love to someone?  What if it’s a taste he cultivated in England, in Oxford, in an old building on a misty morning with a lithe brunette stirring lemon into her own cup?  She hesitates, retrieves a bag of English Breakfast from the box (surely Earl Grey is too trite, Constant Comment too tea party-ish), and sets it on the counter.  There.  Her bases are covered.  

Mulder pads into the kitchen and wraps his arms around her from behind, setting his chin on her shoulder as if they’ve been doing this for years, waking up together in cozy domesticity.  He sniffs exaggeratedly, nuzzling into her hair, and it’s all so perfectly normal, and yet still perfectly delightful.  

“Coffee?” he says in a raspy voice.  “I knew I loved you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted tea,” she says.  

“The coffee smells amazing,” he says.  “Special blend?”

“No,” she says.  “Just pour over instead of drip.  My mother used to make it this way, sometimes.”

“Pour over coffee and thee,” he says softly, still holding her.  “Scully...do you want to go eat hash browns with me?”

“More than anything,” she says.