#the one where the person is coming to in a hospital bed after a surgery

[kirby-the-gorb]

[oh-no-its-bird]

Obkk ghost marriage fic where after kannabi bridge, the Uchiha decide Kakashi can keep the eye but only if he agrees to marry Obito's ghost in a traditional ghost marriage.

(This also means he officially joins the Uchiha clan. Maybe lean into how he knows very little ab his own clan history, so there's like some minor complexes playing off of that as he ultimately takes up the Uchiha name and traditions, effectively abandoning his own -> which could also play interestingly into his negative views of his father at that age. This also means he moves out of his clan compound and into the Uchiha district— which is actually really good for his mental health)

Kakashi doesn't argue, he sees it as the ultimate atonement actually. He's incredibly dutiful but especially so at that age. He'd take it dead fuckin seriously and be the best ghost bride possible. Instead of constantly going to the memorial stone he has like a proper shrine to honor him in the house where he leaves his favorite foods n stuff

Like little 13 year old widower Kakashi w Rin as his witness rip

I'm not the biggest Rin fan bc her canon characterization feels like that usual boring "girl crush turned martyr" (naruto misogony strikes again rip) and I've yet to find any interpretations that really strike me— with one exception.

I don't remember the fic, and Rin only showed up for part of it, but I remember being rlly taken by her in it. It highlighted her being as struck by Obito's death as Kakashi, with her an official mednin working overtime in the hospital as the war ramped up. Also it gave her a smoking habit!! I can appreciate a well played addiction to cope in text. Idk I just read it and kinda went "woah she suddenly feels like a real person to me"

But like, that for Rin here. She's working triple overtime in the hospital, day and night. The war is getting worse and worse and some nights she comes home w her gloves still stained in the blood of her patients from back to back surgeries where her patients died on the table. They have her listed for eye trauma specifically after her successful transplant for Kakashi, and she's proving to be invaluable for the patients w eye based kekkei genkkai. She wants to go into specifically researching and healing for eye bloodline limits, but is struggling to convince the clans to allow her access to that information.

Kakashi's new home is closer to the hospital that Rin's parents, and stuff w her parents is starting to get... tense. It hurts them, to see their daughter struggling like this. To see her coming home with dulled eyes and bloodied hands. To be waken by her nightmares and then not know how to comfort her.

Rin slowly starts staying over with Kakashi more and more and after a while she's just kind of fully moved in, but neither of them actually really talk about it

Let them be best friends w a kind of codependency on eachother that would be concerning if not for how it's very clearly keeping both of their heads afloat as days go on and things get worse.

Queerplatonic besties Rin and Kakashi sharing the same bed so when they wake up screaming they can help eachother go back to sleep easier. Rin likes it when Kakashi summons his ninken to sleep w them. They sleep easier w eachother bc they feel safer knowing they're there to have eachothers back, just like they would on the field

Anyways, Kakashi moves out of his clan compound and into the Uchiha's. He's neighbors with a little 6 year old Shisui and is kind of picked up by the scruff by a lot of Uchiha who have really weird complex feelings ab Obito's death (many of them feeling bad ab not having reached out before to him / seeing him die so young, and then projecting that onto Kakashi)

Kakashi and sometimes Rin kind of accidentally becoming a babysitter for Itachi both bc of proximity and bc Mikoto is friends with Kushina

On that note -> Minato does not really get the ghost marriage thing. He's civilian born, and the practice is really old and hasn't really been used since like, warring states era. So Minato is kind of weirded out and very "uhhh. Are you SURE this is what you wanna do?" But Kakashi seems set, and like, if it helps him cope???

He is however very supportive of getting Kakashi out of the fucking tomb of his father's house and into the much more populated and lively Uchiha clan compound

Minato makes Kakashi ANBU and designates him as his home guard specifically to keep him off the battlefield. He lowkey does the same to Rin (minus the ANBU part) positioning her in the hospital and making sure she's getting that good good mednin education. If pressed on why she doesn't go out as a field medic, he insists it's because she shows too much promise as a healer to risk— not now that they've lost Tsunade. If Rin can grow to be even half as good as she is, it'll be worth keeping her away from the fighting.

Neither Kakashi nor Rin feel very good about this decision (tho hypocritically, they agree w it when it comes to the other, bc ofc they do)

Rin doesn't die bc I say so and Obito does a comedy spit take when he inevitably learns he's legally married to Kakashi under the eyes of the Sage, Amaterasu and all.

[nats--sw]

Orange Juice | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x reader Where Leah finds you again after a while and decides to help you out This is based on this request Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol addiction my masterlist

Football was incredible. Ever since you were a kid, kicking the ball around always made you happy. Your parents thought it was just a phase, that by the time you hit your teens, you'd move on to something else. But that never happened.You earned a scholarship in the US and you only returned to England after establishing yourself as a future star in the NWSL. You had a bright future there, but when Arsenal showed interest, you couldn’t say no to the club that made you fall in love with the game. 

By then, you’d already faced your first injury, you ruptured your ACL at 19. 

But that was already in the past, now you were in your new club. 

Leah was the same age as you when you joined the team, so you two clicked right away as the youngest on the team. Then, at 21, you both made your senior debuts for England, Leah as a defender and you as a forward. But shortly after that camp, you tore your hamstring, leaving you out again. 

And the thing with Leah… It wasn’t until you were 23 that, after months of innocent flirting and endless scenes of jealousy, you both finally admitted there was something more between you. It was one of the best moments of your life, you were playing great, Leah was playing great too, you’d just confessed how in love you were, and Arsenal was in the race for the league title. But then your body betrayed you again. 

It happened during a game against Aston Villa in 2021. You were subbed in after 63 minutes, and by the 70th minute, you had to be stretchered off after a bad fall from a collision with one of the players. 

“Y/n!” Leah rushed to see you after the game, her heart racing when she saw you crying in your cubby. “What happened?” she asked, a bit calmer when she noticed the ice bandage was on your ankle and not on your knee. 

“Just a sprain, but a bad one” you said, trying to hold back your tears. With the adrenaline now wearing off, the pain was really hitting you. “I’ll be out for at least six weeks”

“You’ll miss the rest of the season,” Leah blurted out. When she saw you hide your face with your shirt and start crying, she realized her mistake. “Love, I’m sorry” she said, kneeling beside you, trying to comfort you. “You’ll get through this, I promise,” she whispered, taking your hand and kissing it. 

You did get through it, but the following season brought another setback, a meniscus injury this time. 

“England striker, Y/n L/n, will undergo surgery and will miss the next  European Women's Championship.”

The reporter’s voice echoed in Leah’s head, she still remembered it clearly. It has crushed her, but it hurt even more seeing you on the hospital bed, turning your back on her.

Leah was set to captain the Lionesses while you were stuck on the sidelines, unable to play. It wasn’t her fault, but you couldn’t help feeling that pang of envy.

You thought you’d seen the worst of it, but when you watched Leah and the rest of your old teammates lift a trophy in a packed Wembley, it broke you. 

“Y/n! Where’d you go darling?!” Leah’s voice was ecstatic over the phone, with the sound of the girls celebrating in the background. “I tried to find you. You’ve got to come and celebrate with us!”

Leah had no idea you were already back at the house you two shared, the England shirt you wore during the match now lying on the bathroom floor. 

“I wasn’t feeling well” you replied, your voice tired.

“Huh? Is it your knee? Want me to bring something for the pain?”

You felt like a selfish jerk for resenting the person you were supposed to love, but you wouldn’t take away Leah’s moment. You knew she wouldn’t do that to you either. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry” you lied. “Just go enjoy yourself with the girls, you all deserve it.” you said, fighting back tears. But as soon as Leah said goodbye, you lost it. You cried all night and the next morning, watching them celebrate on tv. You were supposed to be there. You cried so much that your eyes were swollen, making it impossible to hide from Leah that you’d been crying. But, lucky for you (if that’s what you call it), Leah didn’t call you for two days, still celebrating. 

Her face was everywhere, on tv morning, noon and night. 

Then, Leah’s sudden fame messed with your relationship. It felt like you were drifting further apart. Interviews, radio shows, tv appearances, her Insta blowing up, it was all too much too fast. She didn’t have time to be with you during your recovery, and you weren’t up for a holiday in Ibiza with her and the rest of your teammates. 

The breaking point came during that time, while she was partying in Ibiza. You two had a huge argument when Leah found out you’d skipped your recovery session. Leah could argue for hours when she was convinced she was right, but with a hangover the size of Europe, your upset voice was the last thing she wanted to hear. 

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?!” Leah was yelling into the phone, while Keira sat nearby, clearly uncomfortable listening to the argument. 

“I just needed to stay home, away from everything and get some rest” you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“If you were going to skip the sessions, you could’ve at least come with me” Leah snapped, pacing back and forth. 

That really got under your skin. Leah wasn’t just upset about you missing the sessions, she was more annoyed that you turned her down. 

“I miss you,” Leah said, but even Keira could hear how empty that sounded.

Things had been off between you two since before the Euro camp even started.

“You miss partying with me, which isn’t the same,” you shot back. Leah had days off before the trip and could’ve spent time with you, but instead, she kept finding excuses to hang out with the girls.

“Are you seriously saying that?” Leah almost shouted. Keira’s eyes widened, thinking Leah must still be a bit drunk to be going off like this.

“You could be here if you missed me. You could’ve come to my sessions, which you know are a nightmare, but instead, you’re partying in Ibiza.”

“Fuck, Y/n. I just won the Euros! Of course I want to celebrate. If you knew how great it felt, you wouldn’t be saying this shit. It’s not my fault your stupid knee decided to mess up.”

That was the last straw for Keira, who quickly grabbed the phone from Leah’s hand.

“Y/n, Leah’s drunk. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying,” Keira said, giving Leah a stern look.

“Tell Leah to go fuck herself,” you snapped.

Leah took that to heart. Twitter was quick to pick up on the videos from that night, showing Leah getting pretty drunk. But what no one knew was that in one of the group chats with the girls, someone had shared a video where Alessia and Ella were laughing, it was silly, and in the background, Leah was dancing way too close with another girl. At first glance, it might not have been obvious, but you knew Leah well enough to recognize her, even in the dark.

When Leah came home from Ibiza, your stuff was gone.

The next season was awkward. Everyone on the team knew there’d been some drama, but they didn’t know the details. It was clear that you and Leah had been together for ages, then suddenly broken up after Ibiza. And some of them knew you had renewed your contract for just one more year.

One day, Lia joined you for lunch, ignoring Leah. “You know she didn’t cheat on me, right?” you said, trying to set the record straight.

There’d been rumors flying around that Leah had cheated, but that wasn’t true. After seeing that video, you confronted Leah when she called asking why you weren’t home. She’d sworn on her mother’s life that even though she’d been with that woman all night, nothing more than a few dances had happened. Leah wasn’t a good liar, so you believed her.

“Yeah,” Lia said, “but Keira spilled some stuff, so I know Leah was kind of an idiot with you.”

“I feel like I messed up everyone’s holiday,” you said with a sigh. You hadn’t talked much to the other girls either, and they’d picked up on your indifference to their Euro win.

“It’s not always easy to celebrate someone else’s big moment,” Lia said, taking another bite.

The next season didn’t get any better for you. Your performance was tanking because of how you were feeling, both physically and mentally, so Leah wasn’t shocked to see your name missing from the England squad list again. 

Leah had already missed the World Cup due to her ACL injury, and while she was in Australia, watching from the stands as her teammates made it to the final, she finally got a taste of how tough it was for you during the Euros. And it hit her, she realized it was probably even harder for you. She was a defender, but you were a striker, the star everyone was watching, the one who scored all the goals. When you got sidelined, replaced by the season’s top scorer and other younger players, it was like you’d been forgotten overnight. That hit hard.

You both messed up, that was clear. Leah knew she could have handled things better, and she was determined to make it right as soon as she got back to England. But fixing things wasn’t going to be easy.

Leah was hanging out with the team, getting ready for the pre-season meeting, when she noticed something odd. You weren’t there, and Jonas had this sad look on his face. Just as she was about to ask where you were, you walked in with crutches and wearing a knee brace. 

“Morning,” you said as you made your way to the center of the room, with Jonas helping you along.

Leah did a double take. You were in sportswear, but not in the Arsenal kit.

“I don’t know if you all heard, but a few weeks ago I blew up my knee,” you said, glancing at Leah with a sad smile. 

Leah’s heart dropped. That meant you’d torn your ACL and meniscus again, plus your MCL.

“And I’d made it clear that I’d only renewed for one more season... last season. So...” you said, taking a deep breath and avoiding eye contact with Leah. “I’m retiring, I mean, professionally… from football. I won’t be renewing.” You fought back tears, quickly wiping your cheeks with your jersey sleeve. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Leah stayed in her chair while the other girls got up to give you hugs and say their goodbyes. Kim and Jonas noticed what was going on and told everyone to give you and Leah some space.

“How bad is it?” Leah asked, still sitting, arms crossed, eyes locked on your knee brace. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard about this sooner. She was clearly shocked.

“Well, it’s the second time I’ve messed up this knee,” you said, sinking into a chair a little away from Leah. “The doctor says I’ll never get back to even 60% of my old self. I don’t want to play if I can’t give it my all.”

“You can still do it,” Leah said, her voice firm.

“No, I can’t. My record’s already bad. What club’s gonna want a player who’s always at risk of injury?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“We’ll pay,” Leah insisted.

“You’re not the club,” you replied with a sarcastic smile. “They offered me one more season, but they’ll cut my salary. And I don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”

“Y/n, an injury doesn’t mean your career’s over,” Leah said, raising her voice a bit. “You just need to get through this and move on. Just like last time.”

“It’s not that simple,” you snapped, annoyed that Leah wasn’t getting it. “Do you really think I can compete with Alessia or Stina? I can barely score more than one goal a month, I can't even run like before, Leah. And that’s my job!”

“But-”

“No!” you cut her off, dropping your crutches in anger. “Just leave me alone. If I want to retire now, that’s my choice. I’m not you!” You cried harder. “Nobody misses me on the team! I’m not you!” 

Leah bit her lip, struggling to hold back her tears.

“I do miss you,” she admitted, wishing she could find the guts to stand up, walk over, and kiss you to show how she felt. But ironically, the fear of losing you forever left her feeling paralyzed.

“I can’t do this,” you said, struggling to stand up. “If you start talking about us, I’ll take back my decision, and I don’t want that. Good luck,” you said, wiping away your tears as you left the room.

That was the last Leah saw of you. Your retirement was lowkey, just an announcement and a few social media posts. Leah found out later that you’d gone back to the States as if you’d never been there at all.

You ended up in the US on a whim, just wanting to forget Leah, Arsenal, England, and football. That had been two years ago. No one knew where you were or cared that you were spending everyday drunk in some bar. 

You were okay with that. 

If it weren’t for a family matter, you’d still be hiding out there.

Your plan was simple: wrap up your stuff, grab some cash to continue your drinking habits of shitty american beer, and then return. But as soon as you landed, you hit the first bar you saw and pretty much stayed there.

It wasn't uncommon for former (failed) footballers to turn into addicts, and you were no different. Although you had attempted to quit drinking a year ago, when your money was running out, but without any support system in the US you couldn’t stay sober for more than a month before heading back to that familiar bar.

You were so drunk you didn’t even worry about running into anyone you knew now back in London. The only detail you vaguely recalled, though you were unsure of its significance, was avoiding blonde women. But you didn’t think twice about the men.

“Jacob,” Leah said, still in shock. She’d been sleeping when her brother called, saying he was sure he’d seen you drinking heavily in a bar he’d just arrived at with his friends.

“Glad you’re here,” Jacob said, guiding her to where you were. “She didn’t see me, I wasn’t sure how she’d react, so I wanted to wait until you got here.” He glanced at you as he spoke.

Leah’s heart sank when she saw you. It was definitely you, but you looked totally different, completely out of it and about to pass out on the bar.

“I’ll take her home,” Leah said quietly, making her way towards you. “Y/n,” she called softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, Leah shook you gently and called your name again. “Y/n.”

You barely opened your eyes, but you recognized her immediately. “Lee,” you mumbled, and tears started rolling down your cheeks, though you didn’t really know why.

It wasn’t the first time you’d cried while being drunk, and it wasn’t the first time you’d cried for Leah while being drunk either.

“Hey,” Leah said, gently wiping the tears from your face with her thumbs. She didn’t remove her hands, as you were barely able to hold your head up. “Let me help you.”

Leah signaled to Jacob with a nod to help lift you from the other side. As they carried you to the car, Leah couldn’t wrap her head around what was going on. She’d never seen you this drunk before, not even when you used to drink occasionally during your time together.

With Jacob’s help, Leah got you into the back seat of the car and drove quickly to her home, which had also been yours a few years back.

Leah was totally stuck on what to do now. If it were up to her, she’d have tossed you in a hot bath to get rid of the alcohol smell, but she didn’t want to risk you passing out in the tub.

So, she just put you in the guest room. She placed a towel on your pillow, took off your jacket and shoes, and got you settled in bed. She also left a glass of water and some painkillers for when you woke up.

Next morning, when Leah woke up, the first thing she did was check on you, but she was surprised to find the room empty. The water and pills were still there, She freaked out a little, she couldn’t let you slip away again, not this time. She rushed downstairs and, while searching for her car keys, she noticed the kitchen was a mess. All the cupboard doors were open, and there was broken glass on the floor. Then she saw that the door to the backyard was wide open.

Trying to be quiet, she headed outside and found you sitting on the small terrace you’d set up years ago, holding a bottle of wine with your eyes shut.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled without bothering to open your eyes when you heard the door.

“It’s… 9 am” Leah said, pulling out her phone, her voice tinged with worry. “Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”

“It’s for the hangover,” you replied, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Leah looked around, noticing there was no glass or cup in sight. “Sorry, the glass broke when I grabbed it”

Leah stood there with her hands on her hips, looking worried. She had no idea where to start.

“Do you even remember how you ended up here?” Leah asked, stepping closer. She noticed you were shivering, probably from the morning chill. Without hesitation, she took off her hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, relieved when you didn’t push her away.

“Ah… I don’t really remember,” you said, trying to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Leah asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

You shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. Leah was taken aback by how sober you looked despite the drinking. It seemed your tolerance was crazy high.

“Why did you leave?” Leah asked, gently placing her hand on your knee. At the touch, you jumped up, but the dizziness hit you hard, almost making you fall over. Leah quickly helped you back into your seat. “I won’t touch you again,” she said, holding up both hands as if to show she meant no harm. “I’m just asking you not to run away.”

You stared at Leah for a few seconds, noticing her glazed eyes and the slight tremble in her lower lip. You wanted to get out of there and avoid the whole sad scene, but you knew you wouldn’t get far and you didn’t even have any money left.

“I don’t want to answer any questions,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“I need to ask a few things,” Leah said, almost reaching out to take your hand but stopping herself just in time. “I haven’t seen you in two years. Haven’t heard a thing from you.”

“That was the point. You had enough going on with your stuff. I didn’t want to add to it,” you said, trying to avoid her eyes.

“Damn it, Y/n, I never stopped caring about you. Not when we broke up, and not when you disappeared,” Leah said, quickly wiping away a tear. “Yeah, we messed up, but we could have fixed things back then, and we still can-”

“No, Leah.”

“Yes, we can-”

“Don’t say that. I’m not sober enough to deal with this,” you said, feeling frustration creeping in.

“Then go take a shower, and we’ll talk,” Leah said, her frustration matching yours. Why did you have to be so stubborn all the time?

“I’m not sober,” you repeated, stressing each word and holding her gaze, hoping she’d get it.

Leah swallowed hard, taking in the mess you were. Your hands were still shaking, and even though she thought your pale skin might just be from the morning, your flushed cheeks and the redness on your nose told a different story. The dark circles under your eyes were deep, making you look worse than she’d imagined.

Leah always thought she was the heavy drinker between the two of you. Her cabinet was stocked with all kinds of alcohol, and she’d always found it odd how you’d cringe whenever she brought home a new bottle. She remembered you mentioning a relative with addiction problems back when you weren’t even together, but she never thought it would hit you too.

“Have you… have you tried to quit?” Leah asked, her voice cracking as she grasped the seriousness of the situation. You nodded slowly, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “Could you try again?” she asked.

This time, you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“I can help you,” Leah said, determined.

“I don’t want your help,” you said frustrated, trying to get up again but failing.

“Y/n, look at yourself,” Leah said, exasperated. “You can’t even stand. Please, let me help you.”

You reluctantly agreed to let her help, mostly to get her to stop pushing. You figured that if you said yes and she saw how messed up you were, she’d leave you alone. What you didn’t remember was how stubborn Leah could be when she was set on something.

Leah couldn’t believe she actually managed to get you to go to rehab, but it seemed like it was working after a while. According to the doctor, you were doing great, really putting in the effort in your sessions and activities. So, it didn’t take long for you to get the green light for a day out, and of course, Leah was the one you’d spend it with.

“Good morning,” Leah said softly when she saw you. It was wild how you were starting to look more like yourself again.

“Morning,” you replied. It was weird to think that just a few months ago you were alone in the States, drinking day and night. And now Leah was here, smiling at you again. It was something you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Leah said when you two were in her car. “I checked with the doctor because it might be a... sensitive topic for you.” Instantly, your heart raced in panic. Leah noticed your breathing quicken and gently placed her hand on your knee while steering with the other. You placed your hand over hers, and she didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers. “Just relax,” she said. “I think you’ll like it. And if I’m wrong, just let me know, and we’ll forget about it. No big deal.” She stopped at a red light, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss.

It was something that had always helped you chill out. Even though you weren’t together anymore (not physically, at least. Both of you knew those feelings were still there, just waiting for the right time), it still felt good.

When Leah parked the car and you looked out the window, your heart raced again. You were right in front of a football pitch. Leah knew how much your struggles with the end of your career were a trigger for your addiction, so being here wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Leah, I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she said, gently taking your hand to help you out of the car. “Just give it a few minutes, okay? If it’s too much, we’ll head back.” She cupped your face, locking eyes with you.

You nodded, holding her hand tightly. Leah didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension in your grip.

You walked together to the middle of the field. It wasn’t as big as the one you used to play on, but seeing it made you smile a bit, remembering the good times you had there with Leah.

“I should’ve been more supportive, you know,” Leah said as you both settled on the grass, still damp from the morning dew. “After my injury and the World Cup, I finally realized how lonely you must’ve felt. Part of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied. “You didn’t owe me anything.”

“You were my girlfriend. I should’ve been there for you, giving you the support you needed,” Leah said, her tears starting to fall. You hated seeing her cry; it always made you feel awful.

“I was tough to deal with too. I didn’t make it easy for you,” you admitted, resting your head on Leah’s shoulder.  She turned and kissed your forehead without hesitation.

“Do you think we can get through this?” She whispered.

“I think we’re on the right track.”

Leah nodded and after a few minutes of silence, she stood up. “Don’t move,” she said, running back to the car. She came back with a mini football, the kind you can hold in one hand. “Wanna play?” she asked with a small, hopeful smile.

You laughed, shaking your head, but took her hand to stand up. The feel of the ball in your hands was weird but you couldn’t say no to Leah.

“Let’s warm up before my friends get here,” she said with a smirk. You didn’t get what she meant at first, but the excitement of kicking a ball again had you too pumped to question it.

Leah’s friends turned out to be a bunch of 12 year olds who had joined her every week to play football together. There were about seven girls, with the oldest being 13. She was the one who kept glancing at you the whole time.

“Excuse me,” the oldest girl said as they were about to leave after the game ended. “You’re Y/n L/n, right?” she asked, eyes locked on you.

“Jackie!” Leah hurried over and tried to cover the girl’s mouth. “What did I say about the questions?”

Leah kept talking to the girl, but you couldn’t catch what she was saying. Jackie was 13 now, but she was only 11 when you retired, and probably no older than 7 when you were at your peak. It touched you that she recognized you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said, holding Leah’s hand for support. “What’s up?”

“Your hair is longer and darker now,” Jackie said, eyeing you closely. “And your face is a bit different, but I remember when you kicked that penalty into the goal. I saw it in person!”

“Jackie,” Leah said again, but you pulled on her arm.

“Do you really remember?” you asked.

“I do! I saw you play. My sister took me to that game. Even though Arsenal lost, your penalty was the best.” Jackie said, her eyes shining.

Leah watched silently, a big smile on her face as she saw you light up with that familiar spark you’d lost over the years. She let you have a moment with Jackie, impressed by how you were reconnecting with your past. It made her even more certain about the idea she’d been planning to share with you.

The next weekend, you both were back out on the field with the girls. You spent some time teaching Jackie a few tricks. Your stamina wasn’t what it used to be, so Leah gave you a break. 

“I wish I had the energy of a 12 year old,” Leah said, flopping down next to you on the grass and handing you a bottle of water, but you shook your head.

“I’m good,” you said, pulling out a bottle of orange juice from your bag. Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“But you don’t like orange juice,” she said, wrinkling her nose as you popped the cap and the citrus scent hit the air.

“You don’t like it,” you said with a grin. “I never hated it.”

“You never bought it when we lived together,” Leah pointed out.

“That’s because you didn’t like kissing me with juice on my lips,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at her. “You were always so picky, even with that.”

Leah shook her head, remembering how she’d pull away in the middle of a kiss if she tasted something like orange juice on your lips.

“I’ve been drinking a lot of orange juice lately because plain water gets boring,” you said, putting the bottle away and sitting up straight. You glanced at Leah, who seemed like she wanted to say something.

"Your doctor mentioned you're about to be discharged," Leah said, glancing at you with a curious look.

"Yeah," you replied, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to talk to you about that too." Leah raised an eyebrow, curious. "I don't have anywhere to stay, and my family's all moved away from London. And I need to keep up with the weekly therapy."

"You can stay with me," Leah said before you could even ask. 

"Thank you," you said with a relieved smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"Can I confess something?" Leah asked, fiddling with the bottle in her hands.

"Sure."

"I'm afraid you'll leave again," she admitted, biting her lip. "You have no reason to stay, and I don’t want you to be alone again," she added, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. "That’s why I've been thinking about something..."

You felt a bit panicked, knowing what Leah could be thinking.

"I’m not going to play again-" you started, but Leah cut you off.

"I know, honey," she said, stroking your hand with her thumb. "But I've been thinking...these girls need someone to teach them," she said, nodding toward the group of girls who were too busy fighting over the ball to rest.

"No, Leah-"

"Shh, let me finish," Leah said with a laugh. "It won’t be professional. It'll start as an amateur academy. We just need to build a dressing room, add a few more seats, and recruit some more girls."

"Leah, I'm not a coach," you said, shaking your head. "And running an academy, even an amateur one, costs money."

"I’ve got the money," she assured you. "I'm already talking to some local sponsors. And you’re great with the girls, you’ve got experience, and it’ll keep you busy doing something you still care about, even if you won’t admit it right now."

"I don’t know..."

"Just give it a shot," Leah said, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss. "If you don’t like it, we’ll figure out something else."

You took a deep breath, feeling unsure but finally nodded. "Alright, I'll give it a try."

Leah was feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. After all the hard work, the tough times, and a few relapses along the way, today might be the day you could finally move back to her place. But she’d spent the night taking away every trace of alcohol from the house. Pouring out all those liquor bottles, which had cost her a fortune, felt a bit like a sacrifice, but knowing she was doing it for you made it almost satisfying. She’d also packed up all the wine glasses and stashed them in the attic, figuring they’d be better off out of sight for a while. 

She’d gone a bit overboard with the shopping too, piles of chocolate, different coffee flavors, and gallons of orange juice to cover any cravings you might have. And she’d moved her medals, trophies, and awards into her bedroom. She figured it would be better to ease you back into things slowly, rather than hitting you with the full weight of her football career all at once. 

“Good morning,” Leah said as soon as she saw you dragging your suitcase in.

You greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, and she offered to put your suitcase in the car while you settled into the passenger seat.

“I’m really nervous,” you admitted, shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

Leah didn’t say much, just reached out her hand. You took it without hesitation, intertwining your fingers with hers for comfort.

“I think it’s best if we skip the game with the girls today,” Leah suggested, seeing you nod in agreement. “Alright then, let’s go home.”

The drive to the house was quiet, neither of you saying a word. Leah held your hand the whole time, even after you two stepped inside.

"I got the guest room ready for you," Leah said, setting your suitcase on the floor.

"Will you come with me?" you asked. Leah nodded immediately, following you to the room. She smiled as you flopped onto the bed. "God, I missed sleeping in a good bed," you said, then looked at Leah, who was leaning against the door frame. "Come here," you said, patting the bed.

Leah kicked off her shoes and lay down next to you. She was a little surprised when you rested your head on her chest, but her hand instinctively went to your hair, stroking it gently. Throughout your rehab, you had been close, but Leah always worried about moving too fast, unsure about what the future held for both of you.

"You've changed a lot," you murmured, closing your eyes and smiling at the scent of Leah's shirt. "I like this side of you."

"What side?" Leah whispered.

"The side that takes care of me. I like you taking care of me."

Leah bit her lip, feeling it tremble a little. "I should have taken better care of you before. Maybe then you wouldn't have left."

"I didn't give you the chance. I didn't want to hear from you."

You both stayed silent for a few minutes, Leah holding you tighter.

"And now? Will you give me a chance to take care of you?"

"I’m doing that already," you said, lifting yourself up a little to look at her. "Thank you for not letting me leave again." You gave her a soft, short kiss on the lips.

Leah didn't ask for more, didn't move her hands or deepen the kiss. That small contact was enough for her. Trying again would be a slow process, and she didn't want to go back to what you had before. She wanted to start fresh, avoiding the mistakes of the past.

After almost two months, things were looking up. 

When you woke up, Leah wasn't in bed. You weren’t sharing a room yet, but she spent most nights with you, and last night had been one of those.

After showering, you headed to the kitchen and found Leah putting things away in the fridge. 

"Morning," you said, startling her. She quickly shut the fridge door and looked at you with wide eyes. "Everything okay?" you asked, walking towards her curiously.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine," she said, taking a step back and letting out a curse as she bumped into the fridge.

"What are you hiding?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

"N-nothing," she said, trying to squirm out of the situation, but you were quicker. You cornered her against the fridge. "Shouldn’t you be going? It's your first day of training with the girls," she reminded you.

"I can’t leave without my good morning kiss," you said, watching her features soften a little.

"I haven’t brushed my teeth," she lied, standing on her tiptoes to keep you from kissing her. She was definitely hiding something.

For a moment, you thought it might be something with alcohol. You'd noticed that all the alcohol in the house was gone, even the liquor filled candy Leah used to eat. But it was early in the morning, and Leah wouldn't be drinking anything with alcohol at that time. You trusted her, she was fully committed to your recovery. On the rare occasions she had a drink, she’d brush her teeth multiple times before kissing you. 

Leah thought she'd kept it a secret, but you'd caught her almost drinking the extra mint mouthwash.

So, it was highly unlikely that was the reason she didn’t want to kiss you.

"I'll be mad if you don't kiss me," you said, playing your last card.

Leah rolled her eyes but leaned in, brushing her nose against yours before giving you a short kiss. When she felt your tongue graze her lip, she knew she was caught.

"Leah!" you exclaimed, patting her shoulder. "You were drinking my orange juice!"

"I was thirsty," Leah laughed. "I'll grab some more juice for you, I promise," she said, wrapping her arms around your waist. She tried to kiss you again, but you turned your face away, causing her lips to land on your cheek. "Hey, there's no more juice left. Your only chance to have some is kissing me," she said, still holding your waist.

"I hate you," you said, shaking your head before finally kissing her. "You're not supposed to like that juice."

"I think I got so used to tasting it when I kiss you that I've started to like it," Leah said with a grin.

"Did you really drink all my juice?" you asked, almost sadly, resting your head on Leah's shoulder.

"Of course not, love," she said, stroking your back. "I think I bought all the orange juice in London. I can't have my girl without her daily glass of juice."

"Thank you," you murmured, kissing her again.

"I should say that," Leah whispered back.

[ara-the-great]

One call away

Tw: slight reference to lores, slight gore (if you squint) fever and delirium, abandonment issues

(here is the request I got for Zayne and Sylus angst. I didn't know what to write so I added my own trauma. I HAVE NOT PROOF READ THIS)

You don't remember most of your childhood. Not that you cared much. The oldest thing in your memory that you could find was screams, the screams staying with your Grandma and Caleb but that too was well into your mid or late teens.

Even then you didn't have many friends, actually you had no one except Caleb. All of them either bullied you or abandoned you, they didn't care about you . You were desperate for any sort of connection as a child and as a adult.

Your dating scene was similar. Though you only had one relationship before you joined the hunters association. Even that was far from a good one. And now when you look back at it you couldn't remember much there either, you had cried so much, so damn much but still he left.

It's only after joining the association that your life started to look up. It was a new start for you. A new environment, new friends do you think they like you? and new opportunities.

You always kept your problems to yourself. You didn't want to make others worry for nothing. It's not like anyone was close enough to tell these problems anyway.

When this mysterious fever started developing you thought you could ignored it, just power though it, right? Wrong.

You could barely stand up. Slipping in and out of consciousness. Your body felt like it was being baked from the inside out. Yet it felt like your limbs were freezing off. You needed help to at least get to the hospital.

Even thinking of the hospital made you feel worse. You could practically smell the antiseptic scent of the sterile rooms. What if something is really wrong with you and you need surgery? Under the harsh flood lights and white coats and screams and they'll kill you this time. They'll hurt you. They will cut you open with a knife.

Sylus

You jolted awake shaking, you can't stop shaking. No one can save you this time. For all you know that kind-hearted boy who helped you is dead. For all you knew his body was stained as red as his eyes.

He answered "look who it is, I didn't think I'd be fortunate enough to get your call today kitten". You weren't sure when you had called Sylus but you already had. You didn't know what to say let alone why you called him. Could he even help? Suddenly you remembered the aether core. Maybe this fever was related to this. Maybe-

"kitten are you alright?" His voice sounded gruff but gave you so much comfort. But you wouldn't want to disturb him. He probably would hate you for it.

"I'm sorry i- I mistakenly called you" you managed to rasp out. Still shaking

"you don't sound well. Are you sick? Where are you?" He spoke cautiously. You weren't sure how he knew. Not sure that you cared because before you could answer a calm swept you into unconsciousness.

You woke up to someone opening your door. Shit shit shit shit shit shit . Someone was here. An intruder was here. You could barely get up and out of bed before stumbling onto the ground, your gun was nowhere to be seen. You kept trying to think where you kept it but you came up blank. You rummaged through your bedside table trying to find something to defend yourself with but your cold shaky hands weren't making it easier. The person outside had started to open your bedroom door when you found a blunt craft scissor which you held up towards whoever was inside. Your sight was blurry and your heart was beating in your ears like a war drum but you could recognize a tall figure approaching. You weren't going to let them take you back. you have to fight. You have to

"DONT COME ANY CLOSER! GET OUT IM NOT GOING BACK I WONT HESITATE TO KILL YOU DON'T YOU DARE TAKE ANOTHER STEP!" You screamed as loud as you possibly could. Tears ran down your face as you shook with what can be only described as pure terror. Scenes from the past kept flashing in your head. You could practically feel every damn cut they cut into you as a child.

You were sobbing and shaking curled up in a corner from fear and yet you kept the knife held up. It tore Sylus's heart apart to see you like this again. In the blink of an eye he was kneeling in front of you cowering form trying to reach out.

"Sweetie, Y/N please it's me. Calm down it's ok you are safe. Look at me. Shh look it's me Sylus. Its ok I won't take you anywhere, I won't hurt you." He held you in his arms even though you were wildly trying to stab him for a second. His normally smooth voice wavered and cracked.

"S-sylus? I- someone is in the house!" You deliriously mumbled from the high fever.

"kitten it was me. I came over because I was worried when you stopped talking over the phone. It seems like I was right to worry. You are burning up what happened?"

"I think I have a fever. It's ok though, I'll be ok" you said calming down. You leaned into his touch as he held you against his chest. His heartbeat was almost as rapid as yours.

"my love, I don't think you will be fine your fever feels well over 105. Why aren't you at a hospital? Why didn't you call anyone? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"i didn't think you would come"

"all you need to do is say my name and I'll be there for you. Now come, let's get you to the clinic"

You shook your head trying to insist you were fine but the worry in his eyes only made you reconsider your choice

"Can you tell me why you don't want to go?" His eyes and his voice were lulling you to sleep again

"scared" your voice was barely a whisper. You could feel yourself slip into unconsciousness yet again.

When you came to you weren't in your house. Just before you could panic you felt sylus talk. His arms still around you like a shield from everything you were afraid of.

"it's ok you are with me. I'm here. I bought you to the N109 zone. You needed to see a doctor so I called one to my house. So no hospital, don't worry." Sylus explained without you even asking.

"thank you" you said quietly, feeling ashamed of the scene you caused earlier.

"For?" He asked with a brow quirked up.

"For not asking what all that was, and for bringing me here and also for taking care of me."

He laughed softly "You don't need to thank me for taking care of you. I always take care of what's mine." His eyes were ever so soft as he brushed away your hair from your face. "Now sleep. You are still sick"

"but I feel a bit bet-"

"Sleep kitten. I'll take care of everything else" he said softly kissing your forehead.

Zayne

You stared at your phone contemplating whether or not you should call Zayne. Though you were in a relationship you couldn't just disturb him. He was a busy guy. He had surgeries and more serious patients to take care of.

Your phone began ringing. Speak of the devil.

"Y/N? This is zayne. Are you alright? This is the second time you missed your appointment this week." His cool voice sounded across the phone.

"zayne, ah I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just have a bit of a fever."

" A fever? That gives you more reasons to come over to the clinic does it not? Do not worry about the appointments. I'm coming to pick you up. Are you at your apartment?"

"Zayne its truly not necessary I don't want to burden yo-"

"Rubbish, I was already headed out. So do not worry about burdening me. Worry about taking care of yourself" he cut the call before you could try to persuade him that you were fine. You were just grateful that someone was there. Even though zayne had abandoned you before. He didn't care about you. It was his job as a doctor to care for his patients.

You didn't realise when you had slipped into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

But by the time you had woken up your skin felt like it was burning from the fever. This wasn't normal. Glancing over at the clock you saw it was around 1 am. Zayne wasn't here yet. Why did you expect he would be here? You knew not to trust in what people say so why was your eyes tearing up?

As your fever kept increasing it became harder and harder to move around, it was painful to even sit up. He had abandoned you again. Your ex was right. You were annoying and in the end everyone would leave you. Nobody could ever love you.

The memory of zayne flashed across your mind. He had promised to always look after you. To be there for you.

You gritted your teeth kept mumbling "it's ok. I'll be ok" to yourself like a mantra as you somehow got a coat on your back to head to the hospital. You weren't sure how you'd reach there but the first step was to get out. Every promise that has been made to me has been a lie why would this one not be?

Just as you were about to get out of your room, your door softly swung open, revealing Zayne with an apron and a tray of soup in his hands. He seemed taken abac. But perhaps not as much as you.

"And where are you going? You shouldn't be up with such a high fever." He said as he kept the soup on the table. His cold eyes were filled with worry. Even seeing him had you breaking down into tears.

He scrambled to hold you as you collapsed on the floor crying. "What happened, where does it hurt?" He hurriedly measured your pulse and fever trying to find any sort of answer from your incoherent sobbing.

"Wh-when, when did you get here" you managed to croak out once you had calmed down a bit

"I got here long ago but since you were sleeping I didn't want to wake you. I was in the kitchen making soup for the fever, knowing you, your stomach is empty." He said as he slowly settled you into your bed.

As he turned around to bring the soup he meticulously made for you, you grabbed the back of his finely pressed shirt, "don't leave. Please don't leave, please stay. Please. I would die if you left me." you kept begged in your fever induced delirium. It broke Zaynes once frozen heart to see such fear and pain in your eyes.

He slowly leaned over to kiss you on the forehead "I won't. I'm just getting your soup. You need to eat something if you want to get better. You can't have medicine on an empty stomach"

Throughout the rest of the night Zayne diligently fed you and took care of you. And when you found it hard to sleep he would cradle you in his arms and read out his medical papers to distract you from your thoughts.

"I'm here, I'm here sweetheart, it will be ok. I'm not going to leave even if the gods demand me to" he comforted you every time you jolted awake. He would be whispering words of comfort to you till you fell asleep again and continue telling you how much he would give up for you. This treatment would go on for days, till you recovered. And even though you didn't remember how you begged him to stay, he would reassure you that he'd be there for you whenever he could.

[obsidianimagines]

Nearly Lost You

Jack ends up in the hospital after his brush with death.

Jack Mercer x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of death/injury/blood, lots of cursing, starts angsty and turns fluffy, Bobby calls Jack reader's girlfriend, Jack lives AU :)

Notes: This is connected to the previous imagine with him. The title comes from the Screaming Trees song (Jack would totally approve 🤘)

Jack had been shot by Sweet's men. The one thing you were scared of in the Mercers' search for revenge actually happened, and it was nothing short of a nightmare.

The last few hours had gone by in a blur, ever since the moment Bobby realized that Jack ran outside and into danger. You'd ridden in the ambulance with him as the paramedics worked on him, and then been written off when it arrived at the hospital and they realized you weren't family. So you sat there in the waiting room with nothing but your thoughts.

You could still hear the gunshots and Jack's voice as he yelled for Bobby. As he yelled for you. But the worst part was when he stopped making any noise at all. By the time the shooters were all dead, Jack's mouth was full of blood as more escaped his wounds and stained the snow. The coppery smell still lingered on you, shirt and sleeves smeared with red from trying to help him until the ambulance arrived.

It was unlikely that he would survive, but you weren't leaving that hospital until you knew for sure. No matter how many people looked at you funny as you sat in the corner and sobbed.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you blinked to try and read the name through your tears and the dried blood on the front screen...Jack?

A wave of nausea washed over you when you realized that it was probably someone from the hospital calling you—the emergency contact in his phone—to deliver bad news. You shakily flipped it open and answered with a soft "...Hello?"

"How is he?"

Bobby. Jack must have left his phone in the house somewhere.

"He made it to the hospital. They took him in the back, but they won't tell me anything since I'm not family."

"Jesus Christ. You're his girlfriend! You were in the fuckin' ambulance with him!"

"I told them that. Apparently, it doesn't matter."

"Go up to the desk and give 'em the phone."

You looked over at the desk, where you'd already tried to argue your case. Eventually, you had to stop or risk being removed from the premises. The nurses surely wouldn't be happy to see you approaching, but you did what Bobby told you.

As you thought, one of the nurses began to speak up once you reached the desk. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we've been over this–"

"It's his brother," you interrupted, holding the phone out to him. "He wants to talk to you."

The man took the phone, almost scowling at you as he put it to his ear. "Sir, I–"

Bobby's yells could be heard from the other side of the phone, and in any other context, you would probably start laughing. At that moment, you were actually glad for the oldest Mercer's strong personality.

The nurse tried and failed to get a word in edgewise amongst Bobby's verbal assault. By the end, his hand was shaking as he gave the phone back to you and began clicking and typing on his computer. "It looks like he's still in surgery. I'll have another nurse take you back to the OR waiting room."

"Thank you." You put the phone back up to your ear. "Did you hear that, Bobby? He's still in surgery."

"Call me back when he gets out, alright?"

"I will."

Bobby hung up first, and you closed your phone before shoving it back into your pocket.

A few minutes later, a nurse escorted you back to a different waiting room. One far less crowded. You slumped down in one of the chairs and leaned your head back against the wall, praying to God that Jack would make it through the night.

Four days later, you sat in the chair next to Jack's hospital bed, his hand held in yours. You let out a sigh as you brushed your thumb across his fingers, the absence of his usual rings feeling pretty strange. He still hadn't woken up, but the doctor assured you that you had nothing to worry about on that front.

Jack was stable. He was alive.

Of course, outside of the hospital, Jack was considered dead, which meant his brothers couldn't visit yet. They were even planning a fake funeral and burial just to make it more convincing. Because until they killed Sweet, he could easily send someone to finish the job.

You hadn't left the hospital since the ambulance brought you both there. Camille was kind enough to bring your things so you could use the shower and change out of your bloodied clothes. A nurse gave you a blanket and a couple of pillows so you could sleep on the tiny couch in the corner, and all of your 'meals' came from the vending machine at the end of the hall. You stayed there with Jack because the last thing you wanted was for him to wake up alone in the hospital after what happened to him.

Giving his hand a little kiss, you rested your head on the bed and closed your heavy eyes. Sleep didn't come easy in the hospital, even though being there was so emotionally exhausting.

When you felt his fingers move, you thought you imagined it. Until you heard a familiar, yet much raspier, voice say your name.

You sat up and looked at your boyfriend, who was finally looking right back at you after so many days. "Jack?" All you wanted to do at that moment was scoop him up into a big hug, but he was still badly hurt, so you simply squeezed his hand and gave him a smile, your eyes beginning to well up with tears again.

"What the hell happened?" He croaked, squinting at the bright lights as he slowly came back to reality.

"Let me get you some water, baby." You let go of him so you could go over to the sink and fill up a paper cup. "You were shot. You don't remember?"

He took the cup when you offered it and had a big gulp, helping make his mouth and throat less unbearably dry. "I...I, um..."

Your words and the dull ache in his legs and chest had it coming back to him. Just in bits and pieces, but it was enough. Getting that snowball to the face, bleeding out and screaming in the snow. And the gunshots, the sound of bullets hitting the brick and glass of the Mercer home, where his family had still been inside.

His eyes went wide, and he reached out to grab your hand. "Were you hurt? Were my brothers-?"

"I'm okay, Jack. So are your brothers." You sat on the edge of the bed and gently cupped his cheek with your other hand. "You were the only one who got hurt, unless you count the guys who attacked us. Your brothers took care of them."

"Good." Jack leaned his face into your hand slightly, sniffling as tears stung at his eyes. He could remember you sobbing over him as he started to black out, pleading with him not to go. He never wanted to do that to you again. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" You asked, frowning slightly.

"I don't know. For leaving the house and getting myself shot. For getting you involved in this shit." If you had gotten hurt or worse while Jack was too injured to protect you, he never would've forgiven himself. He thought having you at the house would be the safest thing, but he should've just asked you to go back home entirely. Even though he knew you wouldn't have dreamed of leaving him there in Detroit, he wanted to kick himself anyway for being so fucking selfish.

"Hey, none of this is your fault." He closed his eyes as you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to his lips. "I love you, Jack, and I don't regret being here at all. I'm sticking with you no matter how crazy things get. Got it?"

Jack nodded and buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around you—at least as much as he could with an IV in and the injury near his shoulder. "I love you, too."

Careful not to put any weight on him, you stayed there for a while, you and Jack simply holding one another and thanking the universe that the other was still breathing.

"The fuck were you doing running outside like that?!" Bobby yelled loud enough to be heard in the hall.

Jack's brothers finally came to the hospital to visit him, and the very first thing Bobby did was smack him in the back of the head. Granted, it wasn't as hard as he would usually do it, but it still stung a bit as Jack rubbed the spot. "Jesus, what was that for?!"

"Were you trying to get yourself killed?" Jerry added, but at a more reasonable level.

"That asshole called Mom a whore. I wasn't thinking."

"Yeah, we know you weren't." But once he heard what was said, Angel wondered if he wouldn't have tried to chase that motherfucker too.

Jack knew his brothers weren't happy about him getting hurt, but what he didn't realize was that they were each more upset with themselves than with him. If they hadn't been arguing, they would've noticed when he disappeared. They wouldn't have almost lost him like they lost their mother. Bobby had it the worst because to him, being the oldest meant being responsible for all of his little brothers, and especially his baby brother, who didn't have as much experience in this kind of life as the rest of them.

Instead of ever admitting how terrified he'd been at the idea of losing a brother, he continued on as he sat in your vacant chair. "Jackie, you ever do some shit like that again, I'll beat your ass."

"Alright, Bobby. I think he gets it." Jerry looked back to Jack again, gesturing towards the suitcase in the corner. "Where's your girl?"

Jack cracked a smile. "She went to get us some lunch. The food they serve here is shit."

"That girl must really fuckin' love you," Bobby said as he put his boots up on the edge of the bed. "She's been here all week."

"You found yourself a good one, Jackiepoo." Angel mussed his hair, and Jack pushed his arm away in annoyance. "Don't fuck it up."

"Wasn't planning on it."

Bobby scoffed. "What do you know about good women, Angel?"

"Don't even start, Bobby!"

After a little more bickering, Jack's brothers took the time to tell him everything that had happened since the shooting. How Green had helped hide Jack's survival before he was shot by Fowler—who Angel had easily tricked into getting himself killed—and how they had used the money meant for Sweet to get Jerry's old union friends on their side. Now, Victor Sweet's body wouldn't be found for months, and he would never hurt anyone else again.

It was over half an hour before you opened the door and walked into the room holding a takeout bag, which you placed on the rolling table next to the bed. "Hey, guys. If I'd known you all were coming, I would've ordered more food."

"Don't worry about it," Jerry said, "We've gotta go anyway. I'm picking the girls up from school today."

"That's too bad." Looking between all four of them, you asked what you'd spent so many days hoping for. "Since you're visiting, I assume that means there's good news?"

"Yeah." Bobby sat up from the chair with a pained hiss, patting Jack on his good shoulder. "You don't have to worry about Sweet tryin' to kill your girlfriend anymore."

Jack glared at his oldest brother, and you rolled your eyes as you pulled containers from the paper bag.

"Let's go, man." Angel nodded towards the door. "Camille's gonna chew our asses out if we make Jerry late."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm comin'."

Alone again, you moved the table in front of Jack and took your food with you as you flopped down in the now empty chair. "So, is it really over? I mean, your brothers are going to be the number one suspects."

Jack picked up a plastic fork in his left hand and awkwardly scooped up some of his noodles. "The police interrogated them this morning. They don't have anything on them. No witnesses and no evidence."

"That's good." Even with the joy of Jack being alive and well, Sweet's presence had still kept you on edge. There was a fear that he might get the better of the Mercer brothers and eventually kill Jack once he discovered his survival. But the bastard was finally gone. Evelyn Mercer was avenged, and her boys would walk away clean. "Now you can leave in a few days like the doctor said."

Jack had never liked hospitals much, but who did? The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that you were there with him. Still, he was going to light up a celebratory cigarette the moment they rolled him out the front door.

"Can't wait."

The chilly December air bit at Jack's face as he blew out a cloud of smoke. His brothers were working on fixing up the house as a group of neighborhood kids played hockey in the street. Everything was calm—normal, even—for the first time in weeks.

You sat on the sidewalk with Daniela and Amelia, all three of you scribbling on the surface with different colors of chalk. The moment he noticed their box of chalk and mentioned to them that you were an artist, they practically begged you to draw with them. So he'd parked his wheelchair a few feet away as you bonded with his little nieces.

Amelia nudged your arm and pointed to her drawing. "Do you like my flowers?"

"I love them!"

"What about mine?" Daniela asked.

"They're all beautiful," you said, delighted as both of them grinned. "Flowers are just what we need on a cold, snowy day like this. Don't you think?"

The girls quickly declared that they were going to draw even more of them, but before they could, Sofi and Camille called out from the front door.

"Okay, okay. No more work for today."

"That's right. Come in the house, wash your hands. You too, girls!"

You grabbed the little plastic bucket and helped the girls put away all of the pieces of chalk. "Maybe we can draw more later." They ran off towards their parents with the bucket in hand, and you brushed yourself off as you got to your feet.

Jack grinned at you and carefully bent over the arm of the chair to put his cigarette out in a pile of snow, holding onto the butt to throw away inside. He could almost hear his mom reminding him not to litter, and certainly not in her yard.

You gripped the handles of his wheelchair and leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss when he turned his head towards you. Jack happily kissed you back and ignored the annoyed look from Bobby, who was still over by the saw. Giving him one extra peck at the end, you straightened up and pushed him down the sidewalk towards the path to the front door and the ramp that Jerry had built.

Jack hated that his still healing shoulder kept him from wheeling himself around. He hated that you had to help him change into his clothes, and even help him shower or get out of the chair just to take a piss. But the first time he expressed that, you reminded him that he would do the same thing for you in a heartbeat if your roles were reversed, and he knew it was absolutely true.

Angel was right. He'd found a good woman. In spite of his injuries and the rough road ahead, he was happy to be alive so he could keep doing his best to be the kind of man you deserved.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5k!!! Ok ok, hear me out on this request because I think it might make a good little fic. I can’t decide between Hesh or Price for this one but I got a general idea: stoned Hesh or Price. You know those videos of husbands waking up from surgery and not recognizing their wife right away but knowing they’re the most beautiful person in the world (something like this: https://youtu.be/kV8KyeApBJY). Well maybe it’s something like he got hurt from a mission (hurt enough to require drugs/anesthesia for the plot) but is recovering back at base and imagine their wife is their medic and she’s trying to update his team on how he’s recovering and you just got a stoned Hesh or Price completely hopped up on drugs following his injury, just fawning over her and he just goes bananas when she “reveals” they’re married. The team got a kick out of it

—Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

You walked around the room, tidying up what you could if only for the simple fact that it could distract you from the unconscious body in the bed. Realistically as a medic, you knew he would be fine—he was in the best hands possible—but Hesh had a track record for being unpredictable. 

He’d gotten into some trouble out in No Man’s Land again. Broken arm and ribs; a bullet through his thigh. He was so pumped full of medication and anesthetics from surgery that you doubted that he would be waking up soon.

But then again, Hesh was always surprising you. It was one of the reasons you’d married him, after all. Never a dull day.

Elias’s voice calls from the doorway. 

“You’re going to fall over at this rate,” you blink quickly, turning with an extra blanket in hand to spread around your husband’s comatose state. 

Your father-in-law has his arms crossed, and Logan slinks his way through the doorway with an arm looping your shoulders, a head pushed into your scalp silently. You sigh deeply, tension that you hadn’t realized was on your face lessening.

“Only if he keeps me from seeing those greens of his.” 

Logan huffs a laugh, squeezing you as his father grunts—the stern man’s eyes softening in a way they only would for you and his boys.

“He’d be more worried about you than himself if you did. Put my mind at ease, okay?” Your eyes roll but you nod with a small smile. You don’t argue with his point in the slightest. 

So, that was how you ended up here, in a seat by Hesh’s hospital bed—your hand in his and your head nodding back and forth with fatigue. Elias and Logan are casually playing a game of chess from across the room when David’s eyes flutter; his mouth releasing a low groan.

Your lids snap back, spine straightening, but before you can get a word out, your husband is pulling his hand from yours. His green eyes are loopy, pupils blown wide. 

He mutters something under his breath, lips grimacing and face pulling in at the sight of you. 

“Hesh?” The two men stand as you check his vitals, heart hammering until there’s nothing out of the ordinary and you can sit back down with a sigh and a relieved smile. “Take it easy, alright? You got out of surgery a little while ago—everyone’s here for you—”

“W…Where’s my wife?” His words slur, jaw loose as he rotates it; the unbroken arm with an IV chord stuck in it raises as jerky digits rub at his eyes. You’re left at a loss, blinking slowly in confusion before sharing looks with your in-laws. “No offense, Miss, you’re pretty and all, but…shit, why’s everything spinning?”

A hand covers your mouth, heated embarrassment lighting inside of your veins. 

“Hesh, Sweetheart,” your arm reaches to the brunette, trying to grab his wrist that he weakly moves away. 

“Stay away from me,” he grunts, head limply lulling on its pillow. “Thought I told you to keep it to yourself. My Wife’ll rip,” Hesh’s voice fizzles, a loud yawn peeling his bandaged face back, “you to pieces.” A pause. You hear Logan trying to hide his loud laughter behind his lips. “Did…the doctor send you?”

Your body turns to Elias, face beaming and expression exasperated. 

“Now that he’s awake will you get the other three? It’ll be easier to give the news to all of you at once.”

“Already commed ‘em,” the man states, watching his eldest with a raised brow and a slow smirk. “Least we know he’s a loose cannon on anesthesia.” 

Merrick, Keegan, and Ajax all file in, and as you continue to watch over a loopy Hesh, his small noises and babbling continue even when you give the breakdown of the patient sheet. You stand just shy of brushing the bed’s lower frame. You won’t lie and say it isn’t hilarious.

“He needs to keep out of the field for at least two and a half months, boys, and I’m not joking about that, alright?”

Your husband’s slow voice slashes through your speech, and the rest of the Ghosts snicker, sharing knowing looks as Hesh tries to lift the hand currently wrapped to his chest to keep it still. “You’re a real beautiful lady, Doll, y’know that? I’m sorry you like me so much, but I love my wife, you hear? Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Hesh, Darling,” you walk closer and bend down carefully. He blinked owlishly at you, finger coming up to poke at your cheek. Your hand grabs his as you hear Ajax make a quick remark to Keegan about the man being ‘totally whipped even when he’s high.’ 

“David, hey,” your voice prompts him to smile, perhaps now only realizing the familiarity of it. “I’m going to tell you something, hm?”

“Okay,” he watches, petting your neck with his thumb. 

“I am your wife.” The man’s eyes widen comedically as everyone shares a long laugh with one another. 

“No way,” Hesh breathes after a moment, awe-stricken. “Really?”

“Really.” There’s a moment of silence, and then the heart monitor begins to pick up its pace to a fast pound. Your face goes hot with love, and you bend your head forward in a long and honest laugh into his shoulder. 

Green eyes shift to the men, and Hesh beams, cheeks red and heart racing as he slurs out, “This is my wife?!”

It was safe to say they were never going to let him forget about this.

[brokenpieces-72]

Echo

Note: I have been working on this oc for a while, and there's a lot I wanted to do with them. This story is oc reader insert, so I leave the name open but the hero name is already established.

CW: Foster system (abuse of it), injured reader, financial abuse, car crash, let me know if I missed anything.

You know that feeling when everything seems to be falling apart? You’ve had it before, when you lost your parents and separated from your sibling in the foster system. You feel it now too along with plenty of soreness from your injuries.

You lay in the hospital bed, with your cracked phone screen. Foster parents hadn’t seen any of your texts and no phone calls had been answered. You messaged your sibling but they wouldn’t be able to make it to you. Your friends were either stuck at work or asleep right now. The nurses and doctor suggested calling a lawyer for yourself, since the other driver is a lawyer and his family wants to press charges. Insurance company has you covered for any other surgery or treatment they need to do so no need to contact them.

Still, you stare at your phone screen staring at the small text message history you have. You could try. He might be busy, but you could try. While your boss wasn’t the softest or kindest person, he still cared. Many not a lot, but at least a little. Then again, maybe it would be a chance for him to stop mentoring you, and go solo again. The pros and cons fight over what to say in the text. Regardless you wouldn't be out of hospital for a while so he needed to know that.

E: Hey boss, sorry but I can’t come in to work for the next couple days.

You shut your phone off after sending it. Then you turn it back on again, debating whether to delete it, edit it, or leave it. Honestly with the drugs in your system, it’s a little hard to make proper decisions. You know he’ll ask, you know he’ll be hard on you for reckless driving, but he’s all you’ve got right now. Right now you just need another person with you, even if they’re somewhat of a stranger.

Your phone rings. Holy crap it can still do calls? Whatever not the point. You answer the call without paying attention to the screen, though you briefly see the name. This would not be pleasant.

“Hello?” You answered, before coughing. Maybe you could cover up your sore voice as a sick one.

“What's going on?” Your boss asked.

“Uhh… can I…” you pause a lot, the war still going on, and fighting over your vocal cords. To your boss's credit he’s patient right now. Finally, you get something out. “Are you on patrol?”

You rub your head, praying you don’t have a headache coming on. Your boss takes a moment to answer.

“Yes why?” He asked. He sounds irritated. You don’t want a lecture when he gets here.

“Nevermind. Forget it.” You say quickly.

“Outlaw, answer the question.” He said.

“… I…” you swallowed. “I’m in hospital. No one can make it, and… was wondering if you could come see me?”

There’s silence again and you shut your eyes. This was a bad idea. You hear a sigh over the phone, and regret sinks in.

“Forget it, I’ll be fi-“

“On my way, give me a few minutes. Do you need anything?” Your boss asked.

“Maybe a change of clothes.” You suggest. “That’s kind of it.”

He hangs up, and you sigh. He was gonna lecture you, but at least he was coming. Especially if they needed to do more surgery. God knows your fosters wouldn’t come anytime soon.

Jason Todd arrived at the hospital, jacket on, hood up, and a small backpack with a change of clothes for you. Trying to see you as your boss likely wouldn’t work very well, but seeing you as your brother could pass. He approaches the desk where a nurse is typing away. The nurse looked up, seeing him almost towering over her.

“Here to see Y/N L/N.” he asked.

“Down that hall, room 168.” The nurse instructed. Jason made his way down the hall, keeping an eye out for the room. He stopped himself just outside your door, ensuring the face mask he brought covered his face. His eyes were uncovered, but the hood shielded them enough. Then he overheard you on the phone.

“It was an accident, I swear I did-no it wasn’t for attention. I was just-“ you tried to get a word in as your foster parents demanded to know why they were getting medical bills. Jason steps in, quietly as you continued to plead innocent. “I just went out to meet a friend, I wasn't even drinking. Insurance money will cover it, I checked. I'm not asking you to cover it, I'm just telling y-...Okay. I'll transfer the mon-I'll take it out when I get the chance.”

You’re on the phone getting yelled at until they finally hang up. Your head is down, and you're holding back tears. When you looked up you nearly jumped out of bed, seeing the large figure that had come into your room. The red hoodie was a dead giveaway. Jason stepped in and set the bag down nearby.

“What happened?” He asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Car accident… don’t quite remember. I swear I was driving on the right side, and I tried to move out of the way, but…” you trailed off.

“At least you’re alive.” He pointed out.

“Yeah so I can get medical bills, foster parents barking at me, no car for the next who knows how long, and now I even have to get a lawyer because the family of the other driver says it was all my fault, and I won’t be able to go to work or go on patrol or even train.” You say, trying to keep the lump in your throat down. The last thing you wanted was to start sobbing.

Jason sits in a nearby chair. “You’ll need more than a couple days.”

“The couple days is just for me to get out of hospital, the rest I can do easily enough.” You say, shrugging. As if shrugging really got rid of the weight of everything. Red Hood needed Echo, they were close to a breakthrough in a fighting and drug ring.

“You need rest.” Jason told you.

“For a couple days, then I’ll be back on my feet. The next load is coming Thursday, I'll be fine by then.” You said firmly, but there was a crack in your voice from emotion. Sidelining is the last thing you want. You’ve worked too hard for him to take you out of the game. Jason is quiet in the chair. It looks like he staring at the floor or the bed but you know he’s looking at you under his hood. You refuse to break.

Jason knows you are though. You’re tired, you’re injured, you have morphine in your blood stream, and financially you’re fucked. When he sighs, you think it’s pointed towards you and your stubbornness. It’s not. He realizes that you’ve been carrying a lot more than he thought. Now he has to call for a favour, one he didn’t want to ask for.

“Kid, right now, you are unfit to fight-don’t interrupt.” He said, holding his hand up, before you could argue. “You’re injured, you’re stressed, and you’ll be distracted. The last thing I want is your death on my conscious because I let you get yourself killed.”

“I don’t need to be sidelined.” You said, your voice breaking.

“You’re being benched for your own good. When you’re ready to get back into the game, I’ll pull you in. Don’t rush it but don’t waste time.” Red Hood ordered. You nodded. It’s a bit of a relief, since you haven’t had much time for regular life, let alone time for yourself.

“How long do I have?” You asked. Of course you wanted to be on a time limit. Jason did it to you for a lot of your training, whether it was posting up or reaching a checkpoint.

“Knowing shit like this, it will take maybe a week or so until you’re out of here.” Jason thought out loud.

“Then I have to get a lawyer which is a week or so, I have enough money… I should. I can do that while I’m recovering, and then I have work, and my side job. Chores, extra because I’ll be away. Then getting my vehicle repaired which will take a while…” your voice broke again thinking about the work you had after you leave the hospital.

“Hey.” Jason said. You looked up at him and it’s the first time you’ve seen his eyes. They were more natural than you thought. For some reason you thought they’d be red or maybe yellow. “This isn’t a fight, focus on what’s in front of you. I’ll give you a month.”

“I won’t need a month.” You said, take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You’re getting one. Consider it mandatory vacation or something.” Jason said.

You want to thank him, and hug him but you’re a little incapable. The relief is massive wave, almost drowning you. You look down at your broken phone, feeling it vibrate.

“Thank you.” You said, the tears finally breaking free from your eyes. You sniffle and wipe at them. “Sorry.”

“Just fucking cry kid. Your life is falling apart it’s a normal response.” Jason said.

You let out a small noise that he thinks is you laughing. You nod, wiping your eyes, and a small smile on your face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know any lawyers would you?” You asked. Your phone vibrated and you checked it, seeing your friend had replied, saying he was close by.

“Recover for the first while, then worry about a lawyer.” Red Hood said. Jason notices you smile at your phone, and takes it as his cue to leave. “Rest. I’ll be in touch.”

Jason gets up, leaving the backpack. Once he steps into the hallway he sighs. He doesn’t want to make this call, he really doesn’t. But you’re his partner, his apprentice. Hell, you’re basically his Robin. Jason had a rough life. You might have what he didn’t, but that didn’t make your life perfect. He’d been pulled out of that struggle and sure it wasn’t perfect, but it was at the very least decent.

Once he’s out of the hospital, he dials on his phone. He didn’t want to but with the bs justice system Gotham has, you would need some help.

“Alfred?” Jason said, hearing a familiar older voice on the other end. “Is Bruce there? I need to talk to him.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)

summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)

———————————————————————————

The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.

When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.

You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.

They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.

Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.

Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.

Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.

You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.

"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.

"But I want to be," he told you honestly.

"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.

"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."

"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."

"Says who?"

"Says Mindy."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."

It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.

"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"

"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."

Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."

That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.

You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.

On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.

You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.

They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.

First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.

Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.

You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.

It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.

You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.

They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.

You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.

Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.

You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"

"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.

"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.

"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.

"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"

"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."

"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."

"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.

"You let them attack me!"

"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."

"They?" you repeated in confusion.

He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."

You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.

"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."

"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.

"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."

You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"

"If it meant that you'd be safe."

His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.

"Ethan…" you whispered his name.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"

You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.

It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.

You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.

He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.

You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.

You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"

There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"

"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"

"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"

"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."

You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.

Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.

You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.

"Sam," you blurted quietly.

"What, Y/N?"

You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.

But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.

"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"

"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."

"Ethan?" she questioned.

"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.

"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."

"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."

"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.

"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."

He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.

"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."

"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."

You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."

Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.

[outsideratheart]

Lucy bronze one where r doesn’t wanna her up for training some fluff. Thanks

I just want to take care of you (Lucy Bronze x reader)

Lucy had promised you she was fine and she said her knee was fine. This was a lie because 4 days after the Chelsea game your girlfriend was in the hospital having surgery.

Before now you trusted her explicitly and for the most part you still do. When it comes to her injury though, you didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. You attended every physio appointment and made notes of her progress. You knew what her road to recovery would entail and you knew when she would hopefully get the greenlight.

“Can I join you on your run?” Lucy was moping around the kitchen as you got ready.

“No Lucy, you can’t. You’re on track and I won’t be the reason that changes. I’m meeting Alexia afterwards so I’ll meet you at the training ground” you place a quick kiss on her cheek.

She hated lying to you about her pain and discomfort but she wanted to be the strong powerful person she knew you loved. The reason for the dishonesty was fear and she knew it.

You and Alexia were running a little bit late to training. By the time you get to the pitch, the whole team is already out there. The whole team including Lucy and Frido.

“Love, I know you miss it but you can’t be here. You haven’t been cleared yet”

“I have” Lucy was telling the truth.

“No you haven’t. You aren’t due for clearance until next month”

Lucy grabbed your hand and walked you over to where the physios were speaking to Jona.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe me. Please tell her”

The physios go on to explain how Lucy passed all her tests this morning and that they have cleared her for team training. When you question it they promised that they would keep an eye on her and monitor every move she made.

Training is normally your happy place but not today, today you were filled with worry. You were trying to focus on your own performance but your mind kept straying to Lucy and how she was playing. It was during one counter attack that things got intense. Mapi did a clean tackle and got the ball. Any other day you would praise her but with the speed Lucy was running down the wing, Mapi’s tackle sent her flying.

“Lucy!” You are by her side in seconds “medics!” You begin to panic but Lucy brushes the grass off her knees and stands up as if nothing happened.

“I’m fine, im fine”

There was that word again. Fine. She said that one before.

“Get checked out. If they say you are fine then you can continue”

“Y/N”

“Captains orders!” You snap. It wasn’t a malicious snap but one of concern.

Lucy does in fact get cleared but your head is all over the place so you sit out and watch the team strategically.

Very little is said on the way home and that doesn’t change once you are in your shared apartment.

“Here. Ice it. I’m going for a shower”

“No” Lucy takes the ice off you before pulling you over to the sofa “we are going to talk about what happened today”.

You let out a huff of frustration. You really didn’t want to talk about it, not while you were this worked up. You placed Lucy’s leg on the foot rest and make sure her knee was iced before you started talking.

“You got cleared ahead of schedule. You went down and I panicked. There, end of story”

“There’s more to it than that. You’ve seen me injured before, this time is different”

“Yes, it’s different. Last time you were honest with me. You told me when it got bad and we dealt with it together. This time you lied. You told me you were fine and then you were in the hospital again”

Seeing your girlfriend laying in a hospital bed was never a welcomed sight but this time things felt weird between the two of you.

“It was a small surgery. I didn’t want to worry you”

“Right because look how great that turned out”

“I’ll admit I could have handled it better but I didn’t want you to see me weak”

“Weak? Lucy you are one of the strongest people I know”

“But I wasn’t a few weeks ago. I was hurting and I thought the way for you to still see me as strong was to lie to you” Lucy tried to explain how her mind worked and her reasoning for withholding the truth.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Lying to me is never the answer”

“But—“

“No buts. I don’t like not trusting what you say Lucy. This” you run your hand over her knee and gently stroke her scar “is important and I want you to be honest with me about it. Please please be honest with me Lucy”

“From this moment on I will always tell you the truth, no matter what. Pinky promise” you hold her pinky finger out and waits for you to accept it.

You look at her as if weighing out your options. When you see the look of panic of Lucy’s face you know you’ve waited long enough. You hook your pinkies.

“Now, you said something about a shower” your girlfriend raises her eyebrows playfully.

“How about a bath instead” you suggest.

“Even better”

[baronessblixen]

I wish you would write a fic where mulder falls asleep on skinner’s shoulder

Another ficlet! Gonna tag @today-in-fic this time 😁

“Is your son all right?” Skinner lifts his eyes to the nurse; one he hasn’t seen before. She’s young, her smile genuine, and her eyes curiously big. He’s tired. Not as tired as the man sitting next to him, whose head keeps ending up on his shoulder.

The first few times it happened, Mulder startled awake, his expression haunted, and apologized. Now, his head is on Skinner’s shoulder, his breath as even as it can be. If he weren’t so tired, or if Mulder were awake, maybe he’d correct the nurse. After the day they’ve all had, he has no strength left.

“His wife is- she’s not well.” It’s a white lie. Mulder and Scully may not be married on paper, but they are in every other way that counts. Once upon a time, Skinner felt the sting of jealousy seeing what they have. Now, he’s glad they have each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says. “Do you want me to go check on her? What’s her name?”

“Dana Scully.” Skinner keeps his voice soft so that he won’t wake Mulder. He should have known better; her name penetrates his sleepy mind and he blinks open his eyes.

“Is she- Dana Scully? Is she out of surgery?”

“I will check on your wife. I’ll be right back.” Her shoes squeak as she walks off. Mulder shakes his head, trying to wake up.

“My wife?” he asks Skinner, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Skinner is going to keep to himself that the nurse thought Mulder is his son. That’s for himself to deal with. He’s a mere 15 years older than Mulder. Right now, though, he sees it. He looks like a boy. One who’s scared to lose another person he loves, unable to stop it from happening. Again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” He changes the subject, hoping Mulder won’t press.

“No, I- I need to know how Scully is before I… before anything else.” The man needs a meal and sleep, preferably in a bed and not a hospital chair. Even if he threatened Mulder, Skinner knows he won’t leave here.

Before he can say another word, the nurse returns. His heart skips a beat until her face transforms into a big smile.

“Good news,” she says. “Your wife is out of surgery.”

“Is she-”

“She’s stable. She’s going to be just fine.” Mulder folds in on himself hearing the words and Skinner puts a hand on his back. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Skinner says, meaning it. “It has been a long day.”

“She’s going to make it,” Mulder mumbles, sounding almost delirious.

“She is,” Skinner assures him. “And I’m sure she wants to see you when she wakes up. How about you go home, take a shower and sleep?” He has to try. He knows that Scully would would want him to at least do that. Mulder just laughs humorlessly.

“You know I won’t.”

“The sit back down,” he says, aware that it sounds like an order. Mulder glares at him. “You’ve been using my shoulder as a pillow. Come on.”

“You sound as crazy as I do, sir.”

“Come on.” Another moment passes, but Mulder sits down. A minute passes and Skinner pretends to read the magazine he got hours ago. Maybe he’ll take that quiz again, the one that promises to tell you why you can’t ever keep a man. A sigh from the right, and then a soft weight on his shoulder. Mulder sleeps and Skinner keeps watch.

[izvmimi]

cw: part of mafia au. serious injury mention and hospital talk.

you should have known better to get involved.

now you sit, twiddling your thumbs, in a stranger's room, exasperated with the fact that you've had to tell nurse after tech after physician that you do not in fact know the man who's asleep in the hospital bed in the room with you, that all you are is a (now-reluctant) Good Samaritan who's gotten in over their head.

but what do you do when a young man falls directly into your arms, nearly taking you down with him?

you sigh, and bring one of your knees to your chest. you should have left as soon as the ambulance arrived, but somehow an unnecessary sense of responsibility compelled you to jump into the back of the ambulance with him, and that same morbid curiosity has kept you here. now that hours have passed, it would feel pointless to leave. perhaps that's sunk cost fallacy, you think, but you watch the young man slumber and sigh. perhaps you'll see this through.

you stare at the clock, then glance back at him, wondering how long it will be until he wakes, and how you'll introduce yourself. does he remember that he passed out in your arms? should you call him by his name, the one you just learned today from the worn id stuffed in the bloody wallet in the pocket of his jacket? what exactly is the etiquette when someone wakes up from surgery and is not surrounded by loved ones but an overly involved passerby?

you're strangers and yet by chance, now you're in the most intimate of spaces. you sigh, and hope someone can rescue from this situation, but alas his phone has not yet rung. it's been hours.

you check your own phone. about an hour ago you sent a message through Instagram to the man who last texted, thankful that izuku is the type of person who records people by their first and last name. 'Bakugou Katsuki' has not yet answered. you wonder if he even is a good person to message, given that he didn't seem all that nice in the message - 'where the fuck are you at?!' you've also messaged another man named 'Shoto Todoroki' with no profile picture (hopefully the right one), and wished you had a way to contact 'Mom <3'.

your own mother would think you were silly for staying this long, but part of you thinks that you would hate to be alone in a situation like this.

he'd stumbled into that train station, needing help but unable to form the words. you were the first person to notice the blood soaking through his clothes. you don't know anything about medicine but you moved quickly, and now you're here.

perhaps you should be concerned about why exactly a person would be walking around with stab wounds to the belly, but the young man is soft-featured, appearing far too gentle, particularly in sleep, to hurt anyone. you remind yourself that looks can be deceiving. perhaps he is insane, after all he seemed to smile right before he passed out.

the image of his smile lingers on your brain. you check your phone again. no reply.

and then you hear him shift.

suddenly you feel so vulnerable, your face drowning in heat. why are you here? he's wrapped up in blankets but moves a little too exuberantly, like he didn't just come out of anesthesia, and you open your mouth to tell him to slow down but nothing comes out. he looks around, a weary squint as he scans the room, and then his eyes settle on you.

they widen, a bright, brilliant green.

"fuck."

his voice is both everything and nothing like you expect. this also is committed to memory, just like his smile, just like his big green eyes.

you blink a few times in confusion, but you don't say anything. he continues to look at you, really take you in along with the surroundings, as he moves his limbs, fingers then wrists then arms and shoulders, as though in routine. you suspect this isn't the first time he's been knocked unconscious.

he's still looking at you, and you're still trying to come up with something to say, your voice choking in your throat.

"i-, i can explain," you start, but he's not listening.

"no fucking way these assholes killed me," he whispers under his breath.

you frown, but he's now talking a mile a minute, looking at his hands, then at you, then back at his hands.

"i can't fucking believe this!"

his head is in his hands now, and you're suddenly experiencing a quiet meltdown as he mutters to himself, something about how his mom will be pissed, how his friends will be pissed, how he cannot believe he let himself slip. this goes on for a few more minutes, and you observe, unsure of what to do before you decide to interrupt.

you stand, and approach.

"um... you're not dead."

your hand settles on his shoulder and he tenses, and you quickly withdraw your hand. what are you doing? you think.

"you're not dead! i'm sorry, i know this must be really strange and actually i think i'll leave now," you trail off, embarrassed.

"wait no, don't go." he replies quickly. you stop in your tracks, and turn back to look at him, and really see him again - cleaned up and confused, bandages wrapped around his broad torso and for a moment you realize he's also cute, or rather boyishly handsome, and then you feel like a creep.

he takes your arm by the wrist first, and when you look terrified, he lets go, quickly, whispering a quick sorry.

"it's just that you looked like an angel."

your eyes widen.

"god, i should stop talking, shouldn't i?" he says, red flushing over a spray of freckles on both cheeks, yet another thing you're noticing for the first time. both of you are warm and uncomfortable - his phone rings finally, and you grab it and toss it gently in his direction before gathering all your things and stepping out.

your heart beats so fast you think it might burst, and you press your hands to your warmed cheeks.

an angel. is that what you stayed to hear?

you can hear someone yelling on the phone at him but try not to eavesdrop. you've trespassed enough.

but you think again about how you were this stranger's guardian angel for the rest of the night.

[eyesofshinigami]

It Takes Time

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, implied pre- S4 relationship, minor talk of injuries, tiny bit of angst, boys being soft

Prompt: For @shares-a-vest "Love is about healing each other's wounds"

WC: 1116

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 16

Even amongst the many horrible encounters with the Upside Down Steve has had, this last one was probably the worst. Steve had done everything he could to keep Eddie out of his mess, the one thing that he could never be honest with his boyfriend about, and yet Eddie had still gotten dragged in somehow.

And almost died for it.

Steve still can’t believe that it’s over. It’s finally over. Sure, his nightmares are even worse, having held the person he loved bleeding out in his arms, but they made it. They lived. They got Eddie to the hospital and after surgeries, a medical coma, and a laundry list of therapy appointments for both of them, they finally made it home. 

Home is now the little house on First Street. It’s not much to look at, but it’s theirs. 

Kind of like them, really.

Steve is the one that brings Eddie to the house once he’s released from the hospital. He told the kids that they could come by in a couple of days, after they’ve settled in and had a chance to collect themselves. Wayne had brought over a few things right before, and he told them he'd be back in a few days as well to check on them, just a phone call away if they needed him. It was enough to make Steve tear up.

“Come on, baby, we’re here,” he says, leaning over to kiss Eddie on the cheek. His boyfriend had fallen asleep on the drive over. Steve couldn’t blame him; he could feel tiredness settling into his own bones. He’s not 100% either, but Steve won’t be able to rest until he knows Eddie is comfortable, taken care of. 

Eddie stirs and blinks his eyes, smiling when he realizes where they are. “Home?” he asks. He hasn’t gotten to see it yet, but he’s heard Steve talk about it enough. At Steve’s nod, Eddie grabs his hand and holds it for a minute. “Ours. Fuck, I can’t believe it.”

Steve smiles back. “Yup. Let’s get inside. I can show you around after we take a shower and get settled, okay?” Eddie lets out a hum of agreement and opens the car door.

They make it inside, slowly and carefully, Eddie’s eyes wide as he takes it in. Wayne and the Hopper-Byers had pitched in to give them the bare bones to start with, like a couch and a table with chairs. The only thing Steve had been adamant about getting himself was the bed, a brand new queen that they could share. When Eddie sees it, he lets out a little choked noise. “We have a bed. Our bed. It’s ours.” 

“I made sure of it, baby.”

“Can we lay down together? I can’t wait to try it out.” Eddie reaches out and runs his hand along the comforter, a soft blue to go with the dark gray sheets Steve had picked out. “I know we’re not up for anything naughty, but… it would be good to lay down with you.”

Steve can’t help but kiss him. “After our shower. I have to change your bandages, too.”

Eddie squints at him. “And yours too.” Steve goes to protest, but Eddie shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Nope, you’re not getting out of it.” He wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close, and Steve can’t help but notice how their scars mirror each other. “If you’re going to take care of me, I’m going to take care of you, okay? We’re in this together, isn’t that what you said?”

Steve nods. He remembers the way his heart jumped into his throat when Dustin and Max came scrambling into Family Video yelling about Eddie. He remembers how he wrapped Eddie up in his arms and kissed him softly, not caring who saw, after Eddie dropped the bottle when he realized that Steve had come for him. “We’re in this together, baby. I’ve got you,” he’d said.

“It is. You got me, Eds.”

Eddie smirks at him, giving him one more kiss before he pulls Steve into the ensuite. It’s pretty tiny, barely enough room for two nearly grown men, but they make it work. They strip down and climb into the shower. Normally, they would fool around a little bit, but they’re both so tired and worn down and still healing. There will be plenty of time for shower sex later, when they’re both not quite so broken and rundown. Instead, they take turns washing each other, careful of still healing wounds and old hurts alike. Steve handles Eddie like he’s made of glass, something precious he’s worried about breaking under his hands. In turn, Eddie takes his time and works the knots out of Steve’s back, days and weeks of worry built up in his muscles. 

It feels like the first time Steve has been able to breathe in years. 

Once they’ve dried off and both put on sweatpants, Steve pulls out the first aid kit that he’d bought right after he had started getting the house together. Eddie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, instead they both quietly get to work.

It shouldn’t feel like second nature, patching each other up. They take turns tending hurts and rubbing creams into healing wounds, bandaging each other up as they go. There’s something that’s macabre and intimate about it, Steve thinks. 

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks up from where he’s wrapping another bandage around Steve’s torso. “What for, sweetheart?”

His vision gets a little blurry, the wall of emotion hitting him. “That this happened to you. That you got hurt, that all of my…” the word bullshit clogs in his throat. “All of this made you hurt. You got hurt because of-”

“Don’t even, Steve. You didn’t do this to me.” Eddie cups Steve’s face so that Steve has to look at him, even with tears streaming down his face. “I just wish I could have helped you sooner, sweetheart. With Starcourt. With the junkyard. All those things you felt like you had to hide from me-”

“To protect you. To keep you safe.” Because you matter. Because I love you. Because you were the port in the storm of all these terrible things that kept happening to me. 

“And you did, even at the end when you dragged me into that hospital out of the jaws of death. Baby, I wouldn’t even be here without you. But I’m here. We’re here.” 

“We’re here,” Steve repeats, leaning close to press their foreheads together. 

Even scarred as they are, they will heal from this. It’ll take time, and hopefully it’s the end for real this time, but Steve’s not alone.

[acewritesfics]

I Promised You Forever | Jay Halstead

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: From anon

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: A little angst. A little fluff. Mentions of a shooting and surgeries.

Word Count: 945

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

“Get to Med… Jay’s been shot.” 

As she waits in the waiting room at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, the sound of her sergeant’s words echoes in her ears. Her heart is racing, her knee is bouncing, her hands are trembling, and dried up tear streaks run down her face. She feels like she’s been sitting in the room for an eternity, waiting for any news about her husband’s condition. He was already in surgery by the time she got at the hospital, which was a little more than two hours ago.  

“Y/N!” she hears her partner, Kim Burgess, call out as she approaches her. When the brunette reaches her, she embraces her tightly. 

After Jay and Y/N revealed their relationship to Voight, the two women became partners. They’ve been like sisters since they went through the academy together, and they got even closer after Y/N and Hailey Upton were transferred to Intelligence after Erin Lindsey left.  

“Has there been any news?”  

“I haven’t heard anything; Will just went to see if he can get an update,” she says before breaking down again. “I can’t lose him, Kim,” she cries into the shoulder of her best friend. “I can’t do it without him. We just got married. I can’t be without him.”  

“Jay’s strong; he’ll get through this,” Kim reassures her as she rubs her back and squeezes her even tighter; it crushes her heart to see her best friend and chosen sister like this. 

“Did you get the person who shot him?” she says, pulling away from Kim and angrily wiping away the fresh set of tears that are falling.  The anger in eyes and voice wasn’t intended for her partner, or Adam who had been with Jay at the time of the shooting, or the rest of their team but at the guy who fired the gun at her husband and shot him. She begged Hank to give her five minutes with the person when they apprehended him, but Hank ordered her to stay at the hospital because that’s where she needed to be the most and swore he wouldn’t go easy with the guy. 

Kim replies, moving to sit in the chair next to the one she was in, “He’s in custody. Voight’s making his life a living hell, I’m sure of it.”  

She sits back down next to her and asks, “How’s Ruz?”  

“He’s blaming himself,” Kim replies. “He’ll be here when he’s cleaned himself up, and the others will be here after they’ve finished with the interrogation.”  

She nods, letting Kim know she heard her. 

Minutes pass as they sit in quiet, Kim holding her hand and reminding her that she is not alone. Will eventually returns and informs her that there haven’t been any updates just yet before he leaves once more to grab them all some coffee.  

Just as Will comes back with Adam following behind him, the surgeon walks into the waiting room. 

As he approaches, Y/N and Kim get to their feet. As the doctor begins to talk, Will moves to stand next to his sister-in-law. “Surgery went smoothly. We removed the bullet, stopped the bleeding, and repaired the damage the bullet caused. Jay will make a full recovery, but he will need to take it easy for some time.”  

Y/N exhales with relief, “I’ll make sure he does. Can we see him?”  

“Two at a time,” the doctor says with a nod.  

“Adam and I will go update everyone,” Kim says to her and Will before exiting the waiting room with Adam.  

The doctor leads Will and Y/N to the room where Jay has been moved. Jay opens his eyes and looks sleepily at his wife and brother as soon as they enter the room.  

“Oh, baby,” Y/N breathes as she walks over to his bed and takes his hand in hers, looking at him with tenderness. “Please don’t put me through that again.”  

“I can’t make any promises,” he says drowsily with a small smile. He raises her hand and kisses the back of it.  

“How are you feeling?” Will asks as he stands beside Y/N.  

Jay jokes with a slight smirk on his lips, “Like I was shot.  

Y/N scowls at him, not in the mood for jokes right now, and says, "Don’t joke.” 

“You love me, and you know it,” he gives her a small smile letting her know he’s teasing her.  

“I need to get back to work, but I’ll stop by after my shift,” Will tells his brother, stopping Y/N from that is retaliating. “I’ll make sure to bring you some decent food.”  

“Thank you, Will,” she says as he exits the room. Looking back at her husband, she sits on the edge of the hospital bed, clutching his hand on her lap. “I was so scared I would lose you.”  

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her. “We still have a lot to do together.”  

She leans down and gives him a soft kiss while whispering, “I love you.”  

“I love you too,” he replies as he kisses her again. “Now, come lie down with me.” 

“You’ve just gotten out of surgery. I don’t want to cause you more pain.”  

“They’ve got me on the good stuff, honey, and after what I just went through, all I want to do is hold my wife and remind her that us Halstead’s aren’t easy to take down,” he says and pulls her close to him, moving them so she can lay down beside him.  

With his arm across her shoulders and her head on his, he presses a kiss to her forehead and whispers, “I promised you forever. I’m keeping that promise.” 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please -

[writing-for-marvel]

Heartburn

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 4 | Series Masterlist | PART 6 > >

Summary: You hadn’t expected to meet Bucky’s family so soon, let alone in your hospital.

Warnings: strictly 18+, TRIGGER WARNING mention of a child dying from an epileptic seizure, mention of child abuse, mention of someone dying from alcoholism/liver cancer, minor character has a heart attack, CPR including chest compressions is depicted, mention of surgery, angst, fluff, implied smut, please note this is a medical AU which is set in a emergency room

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: sorry if the pacing is a little off in this one, I had a vision but I’m not sure it’s actually come together all that well. We finally learn about Bucky’s past in this one! Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

It’s the irritating beeping sound of a phone alarm that pulls you from your dreamland with a start.

For a minute you’re disoriented, even though you recognise the surroundings as your own bedroom. Only a second ago it seems you were cuddled up next to Bucky on your couch, head on his shoulder and fingers intertwined as reruns of The Office played in front of your tired eyelids.

Now, his large form reaches across to the bedside table to quickly shut off his alarm, the muscles in his bare back tensing with the stretch.

“Sorry darling, got an early shift and my uniform is back at my place.” The apology spoken in his hoarse morning voice is coupled with a soft kiss to your forehead which is sweet, but not quite enough recompense for the price of being woken up extra early.

Even though you’ve just woken up, probably looking puffy, bleary eyed and like a unshowered mess, Bucky’s gaze is still filled with wonder and tenderness, as if, even in this state, you’re still the most exquisite person he’s ever laid eyes on and he can’t quite believe he gets to wake up beside you.

He holds you into his warm, musky scented, hairy chest for a long minute, wherein you almost fall back to sleep listening to the steady beat of his heart, until he covertly attempts to remove his arms from around you, aiming to leave you to continue to rest alone in bed.

“No, don’t go.” You mumble in protest, reaching out to grab hold of his burly frame. Bucky’s strong enough to pull away from you if he really wanted, but it’s clear he doesn’t when even the drowsy grasp you have on him is adequate to prevent him from leaving your bed.

Bucky snuggles back into your embrace and a soft, loving smile spreads over your sleepy features which induces his heart to melt into warm honey in his chest. This is where he’s meant to be.

In a decades time, reflecting back he’s not going to remember everyday he turned up to work on time, but he will reminisce on these stolen moments with you.

For so long being a paramedic has been his purpose. That after everything he’s suffered through he poured his soul into helping other people to give him a reason to keep going.

But perhaps now he can instead be a little selfish. Open up his heart, which has been under lock and key, and indulge in the rapture and ardour that you seem to instinctively induce within him, even if there is a threat of eventual heartache.

After years of drifting lost at sea, he’s finally found a safe haven with you. And he doesn’t plan on doing anything to jeopardise that. He’d inflict life threatening pain on himself before allowing any hurt to come to you.

Bucky kisses you, pulling your pelvis flush with his as you swing your leg lazily over his thigh. It’s far from the perfect kiss, noses bumping, lips lethargic, unbrushed teeth and morning breath, but to Bucky it’s impeccable and unforgettable because it’s a kiss shared with you the first morning you’re waking up beside each other.

When your hands slip below the elastic of his sweatpants, Bucky knows he’s going to be late for his shift, but that hardly seems important when he gets to spend these extra moments with you.

Besides, he knows Steve will cover for him.

Right now, he’s just focused on satisfying his girl.

* * *

“Alright, I need to know everything about your date last night.” Typically this was a sentence Wanda spoke to you after a night spent with Bucky, but was now coming from your mouth directed at her.

It had been a relatively slow day in the ER. All patients were stable and you were caught up on paperwork, so you finally had the opportunity to interrogate Wanda about her first date with the anaesthesiologist she met last week - Vis, she had called him.

“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.” She teases with a smirk, which tells you exactly how her night ended. You remember saying something of a similar vein after your first date with Bucky.

“Are you gonna see him again?” You prompt, wanting far more information about your friend’s love life than she was letting on.

“He’s already booked us in for Per Se this weekend.” You can see the excitement she’s failing to hide in her beaming smile which gets reciprocated on your own features.

“Oh, fancy! How did you manage to score that reservation after just one date?” You ask with raised brows and Wanda just smirks.

“I can do amazing things with my mouth.”

All of a sudden there’s a commotion over by the other side of the ER which pulls everyone’s attention. Bursting through the double doors from the ambulance bay is a gurney with a patient and a paramedic atop performing rhythmic chest compressions.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a strange sight to see in an ER, in fact, it’s a daily occurrence in your experience. However, what you do find peculiar is the sight of a familiar broad paramedic with long chestnut hair performing CPR even though you know for a fact his shift finished hours prior.

Something close to terror rises like steam from a burning hole in your stomach. You can see by the pure panic lining Bucky’s features as he screams instructions that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Time seems to stand still as you watch the scene play out in front of you - Bucky continues compressions as they wheel the gurney past you towards the surgical wing. From your position you get a glimpse of a middle aged woman with the same colour hair as Bucky unconscious on the stretcher.

One of the ER doctors you don’t know very well offers to take over CPR but Bucky glowers at him and proceeds anyway. It’s not until Dr Strange approaches with his surgical team that a helpless melancholy overcomes Bucky’s demeanour and you immediately want to wrap him in an endless hug.

They exchange some words before Bucky shouts despondently “she’s my mother!” Your already bruised heart crumbles into a million tiny pieces on the floor in front of you. Dr Carter takes over from Bucky’s role as he steps off the gurney, wanting to follow the team into the OR but Strange stops him with a hand to strapping chest.

“This is as far as you go Barnes.” You hear him command flatly, and when Bucky opens his mouth to argue like you knew he would, Strange cuts him off. “We’ll do the best we can.” Stephen remarks in his quintessential vague and unpromising statement before following his team into the surgical wing. Knowing how superior Stephen’s best is, this utterance generally makes you feel confident about a patient's outcome, but this time, when the patient is someone so close to a person you care deeply about, it provides no comfort.

The short paramedic who arrived with Bucky, perhaps driving the ambulance, observes him with sorrowful, sympathetic eyes. She reaches out to him, looking as if she’s trying to find the right comforting words, but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice. He instead searches you out in the crowd of people who had gathered at the incident, finding you almost instantly, and with a few large strides has his arms wrapped tightly around your middle and his head tucks into the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry baby.” You whisper in his ear while on the tips of your toes, the ends of his long hair tickling your jawline. As you rub slow circles over his back a wretched sob bubbles up in his throat and his whole body starts heaving as he cries. “I’m right here, Buck.”

You feel his clutch on the back of your scrubs tighten as he continues to weep, your chest tightening knowing that as much as you may want to, there is nothing you can do to take the weight of this catastrophic misery from him.

“I can’t lose her too.” He cries in a barely intelligible stammer. Your heart cracks at the implication of too, instinctively pulling him closer in your embrace, tears welling in your own eyes at seeing your strong and cheeky Bucky face such overwhelming anguish. “Please, I can’t lose her too.” He repeats in a blubber with a hefty sniff, pulling back to gaze at you with imploring eyes, as if begging you to promise that she will live.

At this moment all you want is to ease his suffering, but you know as a physician you can't make that promise. Statistics are not in her favour. Your hand intuitively comes up to cup his face, thumb wiping the stream of tears flowing from the corner of his eye.

“I know, Buck. C’mere, let’s go to an on-call room where you can lie down.” The sea of people who had been silently staring at the scene of Bucky breaking down part for you to move through, though not before you throw incensed glares at those who were observing Bucky’s moment of grief.

You keep your arm steadily around Bucky’s muscular back as you both lead him through the maze of the hospital, towards where you know the nearest on-call room is due to your carnal activities weeks before, and keep him upright.

You shut the door behind you and lead Bucky to the small bed, his movements stemming from you prompting him - you suspect he’s too caught up in distraught thoughts to even recognise where he is.

Sitting with your back against the pillows, you gently pull Bucky up to your chest. His large frame is heavy and pushes you further into the mattress, but it’s a welcome, comforting embrace.

That morning, cuddled up in bed in a similar manner to now feels like a lifetime ago. You stay like that for a while, Bucky’s tears dampening your scrubs. It’s raw, observing someone you care for in such a vulnerable, impuissant state. You’re not entirely sure what Bucky needs right now, you’re still yet to learn so much about one another, but just being present seems to be sufficient for the moment.

With a sniffle Bucky clears his throat and finally speaks.

“She just collapsed, I stopped by her place after my shift. One second she was fine, talking and laughing, then the next unconscious on the floor.” He explained, slightly muffled into your chest as you stroked his hair in soothing motions.

“Thankfully you were with her.” You comment, dreading to think what would have happened if he had arrived too late, but realising that it probably isn’t any consolation to the person whose mother is currently fighting for her life.

You return to comfortable silence, your hand combing through strands of his hair, already having learnt that he enjoys having his hair played with. He shuffles so that your legs interlace, which helps you pull him closer.

“You’re probably wondering what I meant by her too.” Bucky gauges, and though you were intrigued by the insinuation of his phrasing, you also understand that it’s none of your business.

“Bucky, you don’t have to go into that now. You can tell me when you’re ready, or not at all if it makes you uncomfortable.” You utter softly into his hairline before peppering a few kisses along his forehead to his temple.

“I want you to know.” He urges, and though you’re not sure it’s the right time for him to detail any previous suffering or trauma he’s had to endure, you’re also not in a position to pick an argument with him. You’re all ears for whatever he wishes to share in such a vulnerable moment. “I trust you.” There’s a weight to these words that you enjoy bearing, that for Bucky there’s not many people who have the privilege of earning his trust and this heavy responsibility is an honour rather than a burden.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his bottom lip quivering. You stroke his hair again and when he gazes up at you it feels like you’re holding your entire world in your hands.

“Sorry, I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time.” He apologises needlessly.

“Take your time.”

He gulps down the lump forming in his throat before he starts.

“I had a baby sister.” He simply states. I can’t lose her too, echoing in your mind in Bucky’s distraught, desperate voice and every nerve in your body fires with despair.

He lost his baby sister.

Overcoming saying those five words aloud takes him a moment, but you remain patient. Even if that’s all the explanation he is to give, that wouldn’t matter to you, you already believe him to be the strongest person you know.

“She was five years younger than me, and besides Steve, was my best friend. You think I’m cheeky, well Becca was ten times worse.” He says with a reminiscent chuckle. You continue to rub steady circles over his sturdy back as his head rests on your chest. “She was only nine when it happened. She had epilepsy and one day when we were home alone she started having a seizure. I did everything I was taught to do in that situation, but she still didn’t make it. It took the ambulance over 30 minutes to get there. You’re a doctor, I’m sure you can put the pieces together.”

Sometimes being a physician and having intimate medical knowledge about what exactly was happening to a person felt like a punishment rather than a blessing. Being able to visualise precisely was happening in her body during her last moments and the medical reasons why she passed away even though a fourteen year old Bucky did everything he could to prevent it was knowledge you didn’t wish to have in this moment.

“I blamed myself for the longest time, I still do occasionally.” He comments and your chest constricts at the vision of a teenage Bucky thinking he was the reason his little sister died. You pull him even closer to you, your cheek brushing the top of his head.

“You would have done everything you could, James. I’m sure Becca knows that.” Bucky looks up at you with a combination of bewilderment and admiration, overly appreciative of the blind faith you’ve placed in him.

“My dad blamed me for it. Becca was always his favourite. Daddy’s little girl.” His voice is demure, so different to the brash, confident man you met in the ER. But part of you feels appreciative he can be vulnerable with you, that he can be truthful to his pain when you’re together instead of putting on a facade. “He took that grief and anger out on me and my mom after that. Told me he wished I was the child of his that died. She left him after that, and I barely saw him from then on. Didn’t fight her for custody, didn’t even want shared custody, he was completely fine with never seeing me again. He drank himself to death - got liver cancer and died just before my twenty-first birthday.”

Though it felt malevolent to wish harm on someone who had been through the horrendous pain of losing their daughter, you couldn’t help the sense of warm contentment filling your chest that Bucky’s father cannot hurt him anymore. What a vile thing to say to your own son.

“What happened is not your fault. It was devastating and so very unfortunate, but the blame does not lie with you. Don’t you ever believe for a moment that your fathers words are true.” He chokes out a sob and for a few long minutes you simply stay cuddled up to each other in the small on-call bed.

“You remember on our first date when you asked why I became a paramedic?” He finally breaks the silence with a raspy voice. You hum in affirmation. “This is why. I wanted to make sure no one else had to go through what my family did. That no one would lose a loved one because the help they needed didn’t arrive in time.”

You recall the day you met Bucky, carrying seven year old Sasha into the ER, a tear trickling down his cheek as she was wheeled off for her scan. You had always believed the tear was born from thinking she was in pain - but now, you contemplate that instead it was a happy tear, that against all odds he had successfully pulled a young girl from the train wreckage and she was getting the help she needed. Aid that never got to his sister.

“Ma and Steve are the only family I have left. I’m not ready to lose her.” You want to tell him that he will always have you too, but considering he’s known you for such a short time compared to his actual family and childhood best friend, it feels like an empty gesture.

“You want me to go check on her? I have surgical wing privileges, I could-”

“No, please, I need you here.” His embrace becomes suffocatingly tight to prevent you from leaving, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky pulls the covers around the two of you, perhaps as an added layer you would have to fight to leave this room, so you repeat your statement, followed by placing a stream of kisses over his damp cheeks.

It becomes a warm cocoon as the two of you snuggle, Bucky’s large hands snaking under your shirt to rest on the expanse of your back, saying he just wants to feel close to you, the feel of your bare skin in a chaste circumstance seems to lower his previously pounding heart rate.

It’s not long until there is a knock on the door of the on-call room. You and Bucky exchange worried glances knowing this is it. You can sense Bucky’s apprehension in opening the door, so with a look asking for permission, and a slight nod from him, you twist the door handle.

It’s Dr Strange on the other side. You suspect Wanda had clued him into your whereabouts.

“She’s alive.” He states, knowing that key piece of information is all you care about, and you feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. You can’t imagine how Bucky must feel.

He pulls you into his chest in a bone crunching hug, happy tears now leaking from the corners of his eyes, relief buoyant in your chest at seeing your man with a smile on his face once again.

You don’t retain much more information after hearing this news. You note Stephen mentioning Winnifred had suffered a heart attack, and that they placed a couple of stents but you don’t absorb anything further.

You follow Dr Strange to her recovery room hand in hand. Bucky’s hold on your much smaller hand remains tight, though you can feel the trembling of his fingers. In response, you rub your thumb over the smooth skin of the back of his hand.

When you arrive, you observe an unconscious Mrs Barnes through the open cubicle curtain. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief next to you. Though still under the effects of anaesthesia, she is alive, and you have to be thankful for that much.

Stephen leaves you to wait for her to wake up, and glancing around, you recognise a few of the nurses who have done shifts in the ER give you sympathetic smiles.

Bucky takes a moment to observe and come to terms with his mother looking fragile in a hospital bed, wires connecting to machines attached to all parts of her body. He seems afraid to enter the room at the same time as looking grateful that she is still with him.

He takes a tentative step closer to the room, however you stay firmly where you are, the tension from your joined hands giving away your reluctance to invade his mothers privacy.

“Buck, I don’t think she’ll want a stranger in there with her at a time like this.” You comment, concerned about intruding into a personal, confidential space of a stranger. It wouldn’t be a good first impression if she kicked you out before you could even introduce yourself.

“But I need you.”

And that’s all it takes.

Bucky needs you, so nothing else matters.

Still somewhat grudgingly you follow Bucky into the private hospital room, but his beaming smile directed at you as you sit beside him, legs slung over his thick thighs, hands intertwined, is reward enough for facing that anxiety.

Besides, that is nothing compared to what Bucky faced today.

By the time Winnifred finally regains consciousness it’s been a long day - having been woken up early with Bucky and the carnal activities performed in your bedroom before either of you started your shifts, to the emotional rollercoaster since he entered your ER, but you’re still smiling and joking with each other until she awakens.

“Ma!” Bucky jumps up, worry filling his eyes as she groans, adjusting her position in bed. “Try not to move. You’ve just come out of surgery.”

“Surgery?” Winnifred takes in her clinical surroundings, surprise and dread brimming her eyes as she recognises the type of bed she’s in, pulse oximeter connected to her finger, blood pressure cuff strapped to her arm.

“The doctor will explain everything, but right now you just need your rest.” Bucky instructs, taking her hand in his and gently stroking her arm comfortingly. She gazes up at Bucky like he’s her entire world, and given everything she’s had to endure in her life, you can imagine that’s probably not far from the truth.

Her eyes land on you for the first time, and she tries to push herself up in bed but that only results in her grimacing, clearly in pain.

“Are you the doctor?”

“I am a doctor, but I’m not your doctor. I can get them for you though.” You offer but she immediately shakes her head, as if you haven’t properly interpreted her question.

“No, I mean James’ girlfriend, the doctor?”

You pause for a brief moment - the most you and Bucky had discussed your relationship was that you weren’t sleeping with other people, but had never confirmed that you are officially dating. You didn’t want to scare him off by putting a label on what you are. Hearing ‘Bucky’s girlfriend’ spoken out loud makes it very real all of a sudden, but it’s a title you want to possess.

“Yes, I’m James’ girlfriend.” You confirm, meeting Bucky’s tender gaze from beside you. He slings his arm around you, cheeks rosy from blushing, pulling you closer into his side, kissing the top of your head as Winnifred observes you both with a besotted smile.

You introduce yourself and Winnie, which she requests you call her, already has a million questions about where you grew up, your family, how you met her James, and why you got into medicine. You gladly answer them all, immediately seeing the joy it brings her that Bucky has a partner that cares about him as much as you do. You suspect it’s also a good diversion for her while nurses come in, poke and prod her and take vitals.

The sun sets outside the hospital but Winnie’s spirits are high when visiting hours come to an end. Bucky is adamant that he sleeps on the makeshift window bed in his moms room so that he can be there for her during the first days of her recovery. You offer to take care of Alpine, his mischievous snowy white cat, while he focuses on being with his mom.

Bucky insists he walks you out, even though you’re adamant he should stay with his mom. When you leave her room, Bucky all of a sudden looks nervous, and worry churns in your stomach.

“I know we said we weren’t putting labels on this-” He motions between you with an anxious look in his eye, as if he’s overstepped and is frantically trying to explain his rationale, “but ‘girlfriend’ was just the easiest way to explain it to her. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Bucky.” You say to stop his nervous ranting. You take both of his hands, intertwining fingers, and a shaky breath leaves his lips as he swallows the myriad of words on his tongue. “I want to be your girlfriend - I didn’t say it just to appease your mom. I kinda thought we were already there to be honest, but I don’t want to push you to take this quicker than you’re ready for.”

“I’m ready.” He whispers with a subliminal nod. “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.” He admits sheepishly, but it’s honestly adorable. This tall, burly man, whose size would intimidate most, is nervous to admit he’s never had a girlfriend. Something of pride blooms in your chest that you get the honour of being Bucky’s first ever girlfriend.

Hopefully his only ever girlfriend.

“Aww, I’m your first?” You stand on the tips of your toes and place a delicate kiss to his chapped lips as you tease him. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Affection twinkles in his eyes. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his deep, steel blues observing you like you hang the stars and the moon in the night sky. Bucky leans down, encircling your waist with his strong arms as he kisses you with ardour.

“You are far from my first…” He mumbles against your lips, teeth grazing your bottom lip and pulling it lightly, “but you’re the only one that matters.”

You kiss him again, arms around his neck pulling him down to you. You’re dangerously addicted to the taste of him, the way his lips move against yours and how his tongue sweeps into your mouth like he owns it.

Ensuring that you get safely to your car this late at night, Bucky walks you all the way there, giving you another kiss before making sure you lock your car door and promise to text him when you get to his place to pick up Alpine and when you finally get home.

He watches as you pull your car out of the lot, until you’re completely out of sight.

Warmth spreads through the pit of your stomach even though you’re driving away from him, remembering Wanda’s warning before going on your first date with him. No one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

No one except you. And now you’re officially his girlfriend.

* * *

Walking back into his mom’s hospital room, Bucky’s surprised to find her still sitting up in bed with a bright smile plastered on her face. If he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have known she was ill at all.

“James.” Winnie pats the edge of her bed, motioning for Bucky to sit beside her. “She makes you happy?”

Bucky perches himself where his mother suggested and takes her hand in both of his, overly grateful to have her still with him. He kisses the back of her hand as he thinks of his response - not because he’s uncertain of his answer, you make him astonishingly happy, more than he has been in living memory, but because the extent of that delight is difficult to put into words.

“Incredibly so.” Is what he comes up with, though it feels incomplete and deficient of the precise devotion his heart already feels for you.

His mother, however, seems content with the answer for she clasps her hands together and hums with excitement.

“My boy, I never thought I’d see the day where you would finally let yourself be happy.” She takes a delicate hand and cups his face. Her eyes are filled with overwhelming joy, and Bucky suspects as happy as she is for him, she is also using it as a distraction from her current circumstance.

He didn’t think he’d ever open his heart and allow someone to own it as he has done with you. His greatest fear is being hurt like that again - being crushed by grief like a car in a compactor until he’s a shell of the person he was.

You have this uncanny ability to bring out the true jocular and jovial personality his mother would recognise from before bereavement overtook his life.

He’s already decided that he cannot for the life of him lose you. That if this doesn’t work out with you, he will shut his heart off from the rest of the world for good this time. You’re the only person he’s interested in giving his heart to, if his life can’t be shared with you, then he’ll have to find a way to be content on his own.

“So, can I be expecting grandbabies anytime soon?” Winnie asks in a teasing voice which makes Bucky’s cheeks flush. There isn’t any doubt where Bucky and Becca got their cheeky nature from.

“Ma, we’re definitely not there yet.” He shakes his head urgently but his mom just chuckles.

“Do you love her?”

Bucky pauses. It’s a yes or no question, and yet the answer certainly isn’t that simple.

Can you love someone who you’ve barely known for a month?

Probably not. At least, not in the way his mom is most likely probing about. He’s not even sure if his heart will allow himself to feel that way about someone. But there’s a flutter in his chest and a warmth in the pit of his stomach every time he so much as thinks about you that suggests he’s already begun falling.

“I think I could - I think I will.” He amends which promotes a smile to blossom on his moms face.

“She’s good for you.” It fills Bucky’s stomach with butterflies that his mom has only observed the two of you together for such a short time, and yet still holds this view. “Makes you genuinely laugh like when you were a little boy. I haven’t heard that beautiful sound in such a long time.”

They both have tears in their eyes now, and after the emotional upheaval of the day, Bucky is barely holding on from breaking down again.

“I don’t plan on letting her go, Ma.”

Part 6 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 26: Hurt

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

An hour later...

An hour later, when Lucy arrived at the Hospital for her shift, she was met by one of the other doctors who informed her about the accident. Lucy's heart sank as the details of the incident came flooding in. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"The car drove off, and they haven't been able to identify the driver yet," the doctor told her. "We've done everything we can for her, but her injuries are severe. She lost a lot of blood, and she went into shock. We're trying to stabilize her, but it's not going to be easy."

Lucy's mind raced as she made her way to the trauma unit. "Where is she?" Lucy demanded, her voice sharp and urgent. She had not been on shift when the accident happened, but instead was given the news as soon as she arrived at the cancer ward. She couldn't believe that you, her best friend, had been hit by a car and the thought of it made her stomach twist with anxiety and fear.

"She's in surgery right now," the doctor replied gently. "We contacted her parents and her local next of kin who arrived a few minutes ago," the doctor went on to say and Lucy nodded curtly, her thoughts racing. 

"And her parents?" Lucy asked , concern lacing her voice.

"They are on their way from Liverpool,"  the doctor responded, his voice heavy with empathy. "It will take them a while to get here. In the meantime, we'll do everything we can to keep her alive."

Lucy nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. She couldn't lose you, not like this. Not after everything you had been through already. She knew that your life had not been an easy one, but you had always faced your challenges with strength and resilience.

And now, here you were, lying on a hospital bed, fighting for your life.

"I need to see her. I can't work today. I need to be with her. I am sorry," Lucy  interjected, her voice filled with urgency and emotion. "I'll stay with her until her parents arrive," Lucy promised, although the doctor looked dubious.

"Are you sure? I can arrange for a counselor to come and speak with you if you need to talk," the doctor offered kindly, and Lucy nodded.

"Thank you, but I just need to be there for my friend right now," Lucy replied, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped from her eye.

After making her way to the ER, she checked in with one of the nurses who informed Lucy that you were still in surgery. The doctor attending was one of the best  in the hospital, which only slightly helped to alleviate her worry as she sat in the waiting room, her thoughts consumed by you and the what ifs that tormented her.

"Lucy, how are you?" a familiar voice soon said, causing Lucy to look up from where she was sitting. To her suprise, it was Max who had approached her.

"Max," Lucy replied, taken aback. She hadn't expected to see him here, especially given the circumstances. "What are you doing here?" she asked, surprise making her voice barely above a whisper.

"The hospital called me," he told her quickly and with a lack of concern for your wellbeing. "Apparently I am listed as her next of kin," Max then said, sounding surprised.

Lucy's heart clenched, but she took a deep breath and stood up, choosing to focus on Max for the moment. "No, no, no," she shook her head. "You have no reason to be here, but your dad does. Did you call him?" Lucy asked, thinking that Cillian should be here rather than Max.  The situation was dire, and the only person that should be by your side was someone who you truly cared for, not someone who was holding a grudge against you.

Max shook his head. "No, I haven't called him. I haven't spoken to him much since that day when I found out about...you know," Max said stiffly, avoiding the subject of your affair with his father altogether. "Fuck, why do you even know about it? Jesus Christ!" Max cursed, running a hand through his short, spiky hair.

"I know about it because Y/N is my best friend," Lucy explained, her voice gentle yet firm. "And look," Lucy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know things are tense between you and your father right now, but this isn't the time for petty squabbles. You need to call him!"  Lucy insisted, trying to keep her voice level and calm, despite the panic that was building inside her. "This is serious, Max. Your dad needs to know what's happened to Y/N. He needs to be here for her," she said, her voice growing more urgent.

Max looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I don't think so. Fuck him!"  Max finally retorted, his voice low and angry. "He doesn't deserve to know anything about Y/N! Not after what he's done! Do you have any idea what it's like to find out that the two people you love in very different ways have been screwing behind your back? Do you know the pain and the betrayal I felt in that moment?" Max demanded, his voice rising as he spoke.

Lucy sighed heavily, her frustration mounting. "Of course, I know how much this hurts you, Max. But this is not about you right now and if you did actually love Y/N, then you would put aside your grudge and make sure that she has your father by her side right now!"  Lucy snapped, suddenly losing her temper, not caring about Max's personal feelings.

Max opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he noticed the look on Lucy's face. He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes, but he also saw something else - a deep and abiding concern for you.

"If you are so worried about it all, then why don't you call him?"  Max finally said, his tone challenging.

"I don't have his fucking number you eejit!"  Lucy exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. She knew she was being harsh, but she couldn't help it. The thought of you lying in a hospital bed, alone and without the people you loved, was too much to bear and, just as the argument reached a breaking point, the attending doctor came out of the operating room.

His expression was serious, his brow furrowed with concern. Lucy's heart rate quickened as she waited for him to speak.

"We've done everything we can for now," the doctor said, his tone measured and calm. "One of her kidneys was badly damaged and we had to remove it. Her leg was also shattered in several places, and she will need further surgery to attend these fractures. The damage done to her right leg may be permanent. She also experienced extensive blood loss and a rather severe concussion.  All that said, she's in stable condition now and will likely survive, but she remains unconscious, and we cannot yet determine the long-term effects of her injuries."

Lucy's heart clenched, panic shooting through her at the doctor's words. You, her closest friend, had been through so much already and she couldn't bear the thought of you facing even more hardship. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her vision becoming blurry with emotion.

"We need her next of kin to sign off on the procedures to her right leg while she remains unconscious. There are several options, all of which have risks involved," the doctor explained , his gaze flicking to Max, who still looked shell-shocked by what the doctor had told you both.

Lucy turned to Max, her eyes imploring him. There was no way he could or should be making a decision like this.

"Her parents are on their way. They should be about two or three hours away, depending on traffic and, although Y/N isn't exactly close to them..." Lucy began to say to the doctor in a wavering voice, but the doctor was quick to interrupt her. 

"I am afraid that we cannot wait that long. She will lose her leg if we do and then the only choice still available to her would be amputation," the doctor informed you in a grave tone and Lucy couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of despair wash over her. "Despite, she listed you as her next of kin," the doctor then said to Max, looking at him expectantly just before Lucy interrupted. "You are Maximillian Murphy, right?" he asked, causing Max to nod. 

"Yes, and she listed him by mistake!" she interjected. "He is not her next of kin. It should be her partner, not him. He cannot make this decision for her," Lucy asserted with a firm tone, turning to Max.

"Please, Max. You need to call your dad and get him here. Y/N wouldn't want you making these decisions for her," Lucy continued, her voice insistent.

Max looked at Lucy for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. "I can't do that, Lucy. You know I can't," he said, his voice low.

"Why not?" Lucy demanded, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Surely you can put your differences aside for one moment for the sake of a person's life?" she argued again, causing the doctor to look at them with confusion as yet another argument broke out.

"Listen, I am going to call her parents and see if we can come to an agreement over the phone. I will do my best to explain the situation and options to them," the doctor said, seeing that Max's authority to make decision had just been disputed by another staff member.

"No," Lucy objected. "That's not necessary," she then added, raising more confusion. "I can make the decisions," Lucy then offered quickly but the doctor shook his head.

"No Lucy, you can't. It's the next of kin who has the right to make and dispute medical decisions, failing which the parents and siblings can decide," the doctor interjected, explaining the law to her, but Lucy couldn't care less at this point.

"Why can't her parents decide?" Max  asked, rubbing his temples as the stress of the situation began to settle in.

"Because there is a reason Y/N did not nominate a family member to be her next of kin. They are religious and their particular religion does not approve of certain life-saving medical procedures," Lucy continued, her voice pleading and full of emotion. 

"Please, just call your dad, Max. I know things are strained, but Y/N needs him here right now. He has the maturity and intellect to make an informed decision for her and, besides, he would be the one carrying the burden of making that decision too which is a burden you do not want to have," Lucy said, trying to appeal to Max's sense of logic and reason.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

[roseofdarknessblog]

Night Changes (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 3 506

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

A/N: The song Nigh Changes by One Direction popped into my head while I was thinking about the title of this story. So I put it on after a pretty long time and realized that the lyrics kind of match the vibe I was trying to go for. Mainly the lines:

"But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you"

Summary: The Rumbling happened more than half a year ago. Yet you and Levi are still adjusting to the new reality and the chance to live in peace despite all the hardships you're facing daily.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Night Changes

Another day was slowly coming to an end. Thankfully. It was a long and stressful one, just like every single time you and Levi had to be reminded of your past. Of the war, the Rumbling, and everything that came with it. Half a year had already passed and so many things in your personal lives had changed.

„Here, your tea, my love,“ you said and closed the bedroom door, making your way to the bed where Levi was resting. After a few days, he was finally back home from the hospital after another knee surgery. „Do you need anything else?“

He shook his head and took the cup, barely looking at you in the process. You didn’t think anything about it, because you knew Levi. And most importantly, you knew how he was after every hospital stay – anxious, uncomfortable, and stressed out.

„I closed the kitchen and living room windows for the night. It looks like a storm is closing in, I saw lightning from the direction of the ocean.“ You walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down, resting your back against the headrest. It wasn’t too late but you were already pretty tired. „Hope it won’t be as bad as the last one.“

Levi didn’t utter a word, he kept drinking his tea in silence. You felt great relief about him being back home. All of this... was still brand new and scary. Life in the outside world was much different than the one you were used to on Paradis. And not even the trips you took to Marley before the Rumbling could prepare you for it. Or at least not for everything, that became essential for your new everyday life.

Medical care, for example.

While you didn’t suffer any long-term injuries during the last battle against Eren, Levi took many hits for both of you. Since then he had to spend every single day in pain. And the worst part was, that you couldn’t do much to help him. You were no doctor or nurse, only a former member of the Survey Corps and Levi’s now fiancée. All you could do were the most basic and everyday things.

Just like today, after you brought him home from the hospital once again, after his third knee surgery in only six months. The doctors tried to reassure you, that if everything goes well, this could be the last surgery for a very long time, maybe even forever. At least when it came to his knee. His right eye was a completely different story, sadly.

„Do you... want to talk? Maybe?“ you asked after a short while, hugging one of the pillows to your chest.

The apartment where you lived now was... still unfamiliar and didn’t feel like home at all. The only positive thing was, that it was situated on the ground floor so Levi didn’t have troubles with his wheelchair, which he still needed to use. Nobody was able to tell you for how long it will stay that way or if he will ever get rid of it. He was able to walk using a cane, but it was causing him too much unnecessary pain. So getting around with a bit of additional help was much better and even safer for him.

And that was totally okay, you kept reassuring him, that it’s nothing catastrophic. Even though... even though it was. Horrible and so unnatural for the both of you. Still so new and hard to get used to.

You hoped it would get easier. Seeing him like this – weaker and more vulnerable than probably ever before. But it wasn’t getting even a tiny bit easier. There were still moments you had to hide somewhere and cry your eyes out without Levi noticing, because you felt horrible about his health and because you were so worried about what the future held in stock for you and the man you loved so dearly since the days both of you were still living in the Underground on Paradis.

„This isn’t the life I hoped we would have after all the shit we went through,“ Levi said quietly after he finished his tea and put the cup on the nightstand. It seemed that you finally mastered the art of making the perfect cup of his favorite drink. Not to say that you were trying to get to this level since you were a teenager and started living under the same roof with Levi.

„Yeah, this doesn’t look like the life we fought so hard for. But...“ you shrugged and moved closer to him, gently grabbing his left hand and interlocking your fingers, „we still have each other, that matters the most, right? At least something is the way we always wanted.“

„You always wanted to take care of me?“ Levi teased you with an annoyed tone.

„I did, yes. Maybe not exactly in the way I do it now, but I do it with love,“ you assured him and squeezed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles.

Your life was far from easy or perfect, but you tried to have hope that everything would get better soon. Both of you were making slow but steady progress. Learning along the way with the help of one another, or the people closest to you.

„I hate all of this with burning passion, every single thing.“

„What exactly do you mean?“ you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

„This...“ he hissed and gestured to his left knee, which was bandaged after the surgery and propped with a pillow underneath it to help the pain and swelling.

„Nobody said it’s forever. They have a much more advanced medical system here than we have on Paradis. We just... have to trust them.“

And that was the hardest part. For both of you. Every single doctor visit and hospital stay was nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing for you and for Levi even more. It was hard to trust the world that was so different from everything you knew your whole life. And it was even harder to trust all the new people you kept meeting. Just a few months back, they saw your kind as their enemy.

And now...

Well, even if almost nobody knew, who you and Levi were, it felt strange walking down the streets of the little town you were living in. Anxiety kept telling you, that everyone was watching and judging your every move. For a few weeks, you could barely walk outside at all, because you were sure everyone was after you and wanted you dead. Onyankopon was the one, who helped you overcome this irrational fear and get used to so many new things.

„We’re making progress, even if it hurts,“ you said quietly, turning your head and pressing your lips to Levi’s neck lovingly.

When you looked down at your left ring finger, you could see a simple but beautiful engagement ring. You dreamed about it for years and it seemed like a miracle that you even lived long enough to soon become Mrs. Ackerman. There was no rush to get married now. Finally, after so many years, you had all the time in the world. Time to think it through and get everything as perfect as possible.

The storm came within the next hour. Both of you were still awake – while Levi was resting with his eyes closed, you were reading a book out loud. It was a silly adventure story about a group of friends who decided to explore a magical kingdom. Gabi was the one, who gifted you this book a few weeks ago, saying it was one of her favorites. So you decided to give it a try.

„Guess I’m starting to understand why Gabi loves this story,“ Levi said after a little while.

„Yeah, me too. I’ve never read anything similar. It’s very nice to get lost in such a magical world.“ The characters were nice and the magical kingdom sounded like the perfect place to get lost for a while and go exploring.

„We should ask for more book recommendations.“ You smiled at his words, brushing strands of hair from his forehead. He finally looked relaxed and that always put a smile on your face.

Anxiety from seeing doctors sometimes got the best of him. He didn’t trust them fully and hated to admit, that he needed their help. Somebody, who was known as Humanity's strongest soldier hated to appear weak or dependent on anyone or anything. The only person, to whom he was willing to show his suffering, was you.

But he was getting better at it. Better at seeking help and better at adjusting to all the new circumstances. Better at understanding, that his life changed very drastically. Better at living in peace with the new reality.

„We will, she and Falco are coming over to see us on Friday. And Onyankopon wants to stop by during the weekend as well.“

„Tch, so many noisy people coming and going, asking stupid questions.“

You smirked and leaned down to kiss his lips gently. „Shut up, you like them. Mainly Falco, when you get to kick his ass in chess.“

„The little brat has a lot to learn if he wants to win against me one day.“

„But he’s a fast learner, he’ll beat you in a couple of months,“ you teased him and closed the book. Loud thunder was heard from outside, while the rain was drumming against the windows. „We should go for a little walk tomorrow, to get some fresh air. What do you say?“

„Hope it will rain the whole day,“ he mumbled and looked at you, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek.

„In that case, we’ll just take our umbrellas,“ you joked, keeping his hand on your cheek for a little longer. With a loving look, you bent down for another kiss, keeping your lips pressed together for a little longer. Just when you wanted to pull away, Levi moved his hand on the back of your head, keeping you close for a moment longer. His mouth made contact with yours once again and when your lips slightly parted, his tongue found its way inside, meeting yours.

„I hate your snarky little answers,“ he whispered into your lips, kissing you again before pulling you down next to him. With a satisfied grin, you made yourself comfortable and rested your head on Levi’s chest. „I would be so lost without you.“

„You would do just fine, Levi. But I’m glad I got to survive it all alongside you.“ Through the years you had a few close calls, but you always made it out in one piece. Thankfully. „Years back, we were just two teenagers in the Underground and today... we’re living in a world outside Paradis. It’s still so unbelievable to me.“

„We don’t even seem like those people anymore.“

„But deep down we’re still those two, just a little older and wiser. And happier.“

„Happier,“ he said almost too quietly, his lips pressing against your forehead.

Soon, you turned off the lights and tried going to sleep. The storm outside slowly died down and even the rain stopped. You and Levi were resting in each other’s arms, talking quietly and enjoying a peaceful night. Sleeping alone while he was in the hospital was always horrible. The bed felt too empty and cold when he wasn’t right there next to you.

After an hour, Levi started getting restless once again. His leg was hurting and staying in bed seemed like the worst possible thing to do. Some nights used to be like that – and Levi hated that more than anything. He hated keeping you up and not letting you rest. But you never said even a single bad word. Every time, you took care of him with love and patience, just like when he had nightmares and used to wake up screaming or sometimes even crying.

Not that... not that things like that never happened to you. Quite the opposite. Shortly after the Rumbling, it was you, who needed Levi’s help with managing your mental health. Your anxiety was through the roof almost 24/7 and most nights you simply weren’t able to fall asleep. You were scared of having another nightmare full of terror and blood. On top of everything that was happening around you, your mind simply decided to push you as far as possible, trying to break you for good.

If it wasn’t for Levi’s love and patience, you would never make it out of those dark places. While he was physically and mentally suffering himself, he always made sure you were doing as well as possible. If anything, you two always had each other to lean on. When one of you fell down, the other helped them up and made sure both of you could continue walking forward. Hand in hand, trusting and loving each other more and more every day.

„Should we get some fresh air? The storm’s gone and there are no people in the streets in the middle of the night,“ you suggested, coming back to the bedroom with another cup of tea for Levi. After he took it, you knelt down before him as he was sitting on the edge of the bed. You smiled at him with all the love you felt in your heart and put your hand on his healthy knee, squeezing it reassuringly.

„You can just open the windows,“ he said without an ounce of interest in his voice.

„Nah, that’s not the same.“ It was more than obvious, that none of you would get any sleep in the coming hours. And staying here wasn’t the best idea. During similar nights the small bedroom simply felt too suffocating. „We don’t have to be long, just a couple of minutes. It will help.“

You could see the pain in his features, in the way he was gripping the edge of the bed with his free hand, or in the way he was trying to avoid eye contact. You could hear it in his voice, in the way he was breathing. And it was killing you, even after six months of living like this. It hurt more than anything that ever happened to you directly.

„Okay, come on. We’re going out!“ you commanded after taking a couple of deep breaths and stood up, making your way to the closet to get some clothes for the both of you.

Levi tried protesting, but it was you, who won in the end. A change of scenery was very much needed and Levi started to agree with you as soon as you got out and into the fresh night air – him sitting in his wheelchair with you pushing him. It only took a couple of short minutes until you felt a strong wave of calmness filling your entire being.

„Okay, this wasn’t your worst idea,“ Levi said eventually, finally relaxing and resting his back once the painkillers started to kick in. You could clearly see how his entire posture changed, his shoulder muscles releasing all the tension. He even stopped clutching his hurting knee, hoping it would help him ease the pain.

„See, you should listen to me more often,“ you laughed and kissed the top of his head. There wasn’t a place you wanted to get to, just careless wandering around the night streets of your new home was what your soul craved.

The two of you ended up taking the route straight to the docks and to the beach next to it. The fresh salty breeze felt more than nice after another storm. Even the sky above your head became clear once again, shining with millions of tiny little stars. Surprisingly, the sky looked even clearer than on Paradis, when you used to stargaze on top of the Walls.

„Stop there by the bench,“ Levi said, as you were making your way along the sidewalk next to the beach. You did as he said, sitting down on the wooded bench and taking his hand in your once more.

„What are we going to do here?“ you asked, looking at him in the light from the nearby street lamp.

His face changed so much, but he was just as handsome as before. You loved every little detail about his face, even the new scars and his blind eye. After all, they were a reminder of how hard he fought for humanity. How he gave his all for the world, that did nothing but hurt him since he was just a little kid. 

Levi Ackerman has always been the only man you truly wanted. The only man you’ve ever shown interest in. You met him when you were only fifteen and since then, you couldn’t imagine living your life with anyone else.

„We’re going to sit here, watch the ocean, and listen to the waves,“ Levi answered and pulled your hand to his lips, kissing your left ring finger just under your ring.

„Maybe we should come here more often. Even if just during the night when no one’s around. We should go out more and explore, see as much as we can. Live like we said we would... you know, back at Fort Salta, the first night after the Rumbling.“

„We’ll get there, I promise,“ he tried reassuring you, just like many times before.

„I know we will. Sooner or later, in a month or maybe in a year.“

„When I’m a bit more put together,“ he chuckled quietly and looked at you, a tiny smirk on his lips. Despite the pain and trauma, he started smiling a little more often in your company. And you used to tease him, that it took you almost two decades, to achieve this. „Thank you for being so patient with me. For doing all the things you do for me and for us.“

So many different emotions were running through your mind and heart. You felt more than grateful for the life you had, despite everything. After all, this was all you ever dreamed of – a quiet and simple life with the man you loved more than anything or anyone. You wanted a warm and cozy home, a family of your own. You wanted what most ordinary people your age had.

„Do you think...“ you asked, feeling a lump forming in your throat. „Do you think they’re watching us right now? And maybe... maybe smiling because we’re doing good?“ Not a day went by without thinking of your late friends and comrades. You still missed them dearly and felt thankful for all their effort, that helped you get here.

„Let’s hope so,“ Levi said quietly and squeezed your hand lovingly. Talking about Hange, Erwin and the others was still very challenging, but you both wanted to remember them for the rest of your lives. So it was important to talk about them, to remember the nice memories you had with them. „Did I tell you before the surgery? The brats are coming to see us next month, Connie sent a letter.“

You smiled happily upon hearing his words. „Really? Oh, I’m so happy, I miss them all every day. I know they have their own lives and responsibilities, but I wish they could come visit us more often.“

You truly missed them – the kids, as you used to call them since your very first meeting all those years ago. Not having them around daily felt unnatural, but it made their every visit even more special.

„Do they know we’re engaged?“

„No, I haven’t mentioned it in any of the letters.“

„Me neither,“ you shook your head with a smile.

Writing letters... that and similar things were a challenge on their own. Levi was still getting used to doing activities like that with his non-dominant hand. Missing two fingers made a lot of mundane tasks unnecessarily difficult. But Levi was resilient. A man, who was able to use ODM gear, fire thunder spears and fight Titans with missing fingers, a blind eye, an injured knee, and pain unimaginable to you, would not give up over stupid little things. All he needed, was time and a little help from you, to show him how to do things differently.

„I think they’ll be happy about it,“ Levi said quietly, his voice almost too quiet compared to the relaxing sound of the waves.

„I think so too,“ you agreed and reached out your free hand. Gently, you grabbed Levi’s chin and turned his head in your direction. „You have no idea how crazy in love I am with you. More and more after each day we spend together. You truly are all that I want and need, Levi.“

He was the first to erase all the space between you, when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips hard against yours. In Levi’s case, actions always spoke louder than words, mostly during such intimate moments, which showed just how much he valued, cherished, and loved you.