#turns out they were trying to fill an OLD prescription the whole time

[comma-souptra]

The pharmacy FINALLY refilled my T prescription + I’m up 10mg WE’RE (I’m) SO BACK

[cameronspecial]

I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao

So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind

You Deserve Better

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.

———

Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 

He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.

“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”

“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”

“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”

Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 

———

She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 

———

By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 

He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.

She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[jmreyes9]

Image from the Internet

THE TRAVAILS OF GETTING OLD!

By Jesse Reyes 

As a man, or a woman for that matter, ages, memory lapses, which some have termed “senior moments” increase and episodes of confusion interspersed with moments of clarity, occur ever so often.  

Today, we (my wife, Beth and I and our eldest grandkid Devon), had brunch at Baked Apple Co., a popular breakfast place in Downers Grove, IL. While we ate our delectable fares, I showed my wife and grandson a text I had sent to my sister who resides in the San Francisco area.  I enjoyed my food so much that I forgot that I had left my iphone on the table.  We had reached home sweet home when I realized I didn’t have my phone. 

The next few minutes were very stressful as I searched for the phone in all the clothes I had worn to the restaurant but couldn’t find it.  I searched in the car as well but to no avail.  I finally called the restaurant and sure enough, they had found the “missing” phone.  It was only twenty minutes before they closed so I had to drive fast (even going through some red lights—just kidding!) so I could make it before closing time.  I profusely thanked the woman at the front desk for keeping the phone for me.

Today’s episode though, pales in comparison to an experience I had a few years back. 

I had obtained some medicines (not drugs, ok!) from a pharmacy, one day.  I walked to my car nonchalantly, opened the car door with the remote key, sat down on the driver’s seat and placed my medicines in the front passenger seat.  I tried  inserting the key in the ignition switch, but hard as I tried, it wouldn't fit.  I tried this for about two minutes and then it dawned on me that this wasn’t my car.  Why I was able to unlock the door in the first place and get into the driver’s seat was beyond me.  Maybe the owner had left the doors unlocked, so I was able to get in.

I tried opening the door to get out but the door wouldn’t open.  A few minutes later a relatively young lady (probably in her early to mid-forties) opened the rear door on the passenger side to put some things she was carrying.  She was a bit surprised to see a “stranger” in the driver’s seat.  I told her I had entered the wrong car but couldn’t get out as the door got locked.  

The lady then went around to unlock the front door and let me out.  I profusely apologized for my mistake but she seemed not to be too upset by the whole situation.  She probably noticed how red my face was, showing my sheer embarrassment.  In my haste to get out of this awkward situation, I forgot to take my medicines with me.

I went to the “right car” (after checking the license plate!) almost running and sped away from the parking lot into the sunset, still blushing, and uncertain whether the lady believed my story.  I was hoping that she didn't think I was trying to steal her car.

I had driven for about two miles toward home when I realized that I had left my medicines in the “other car”, so I drove back (not in reverse, but after I made a U-turn!) as fast as I could, back to the parking lot, hoping that the nice lady would still be there.  She wasn’t.  In a way, I was glad that she wasn’t there because I really didn’t want to face her again!

Now, I really got worried, because my medications had run out and I would have to go back to my doctor to have the prescription rewritten.  It would be embarrassing to tell him that I lost my medicine because of my inaneness.

Then a brilliant idea struck me.  Why not check with the pharmacy if somebody had turned in my “lost” medications.   “Why not?” I asked myself.  I had nothing to lose, except my pride perhaps!

So back to the pharmacy I went.  When the pharmacist saw me, she did not even wait for me to talk.  She was the same one who had filled my prescription about half an hour earlier.  With a mischievous smile on her face, she said, “Sir, a lady brought back your medicines.”  She must have heard the story of my entering the wrong car.  At this point, I could have cared less, since I had my medicines back.  I heaved a sigh of relief and thanked her.  “There are still ‘good Samaritans’ around these days,” I said to her.  I wasn’t sure she really knew what a “good Samaritan” was or if she read the Bible. 

I learned a good lesson from this experience.  Before you get into your car, check the license plate first for it might be somebody else’s car, unless you’re driving a Rolls Royce!

Written on Aug. 9, 2016 in Chicago, IL. Posted on Facebook 12/27/22.

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts. 

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

 Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a  certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief.  But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful. 

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact? 

“I’ve offered to, before.  He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair,  I thought playing with the tiny  ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal. 

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now.  An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful. 

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his. 

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either? 

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off 

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll. 

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up. 

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.  

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary,  I couldn’t work miracles. 

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “  I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.” 

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well,  I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either. 

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

 I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct.  Yugyeom smirked, winking at me. 

I shuddered in disgust. 

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle. 

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well. 

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?” 

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?” 

I blinked. 

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this. 

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing  me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in. 

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off. 

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.” 

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me. 

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.” 

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in. 

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated. 

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually. 

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss. 

 “I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s  familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned. 

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered. 

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?” 

He was quiet for a second. 

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss . 

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good.  I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier  when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway. 

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?” 

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize, 

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break. 

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid. 

“You’re here.” He said blankly. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine.  She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic. 

He hesitated before shaking his head. 

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go. 

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.” 

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly. 

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.” 

Oh, God. 

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even. 

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish . 

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive. 

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in. 

We were seated at the table, dinner was done. 

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation. 

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals.  And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance. 

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck. 

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..?  Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name? 

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

 Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

 If anything it made it harder for him to move on. 

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized  that this is what they wanted. 

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge. 

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it. 

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned. 

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “ 

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him??  What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted. 

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips. 

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end. 

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over. 

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.” 

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too  blind to see it. 

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently. 

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.” 

She gaped at me. 

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ” 

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief  but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight. 

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked. 

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...” 

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “ 

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older . 

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled. 

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly. 

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out. 

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him. 

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked. 

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly. 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

“You’re telling  me  that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently  by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped. 

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again. 

He took a deep breath and went on. 

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.” 

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw. 

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was. 

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.” 

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened. 

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened. 

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.” 

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face. 

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it.  .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it. 

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat. 

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh?  is the guilt finally catching up?” 

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “ 

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side. 

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.” 

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side. 

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ” 

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..”  I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his  , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh.   “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have  a name and you should remember it.  "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.” 

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again?  Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.” 

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable. 

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle. 

Coward. 

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?” 

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted. 

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down. 

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “ 

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped . 

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs. 

It made me laugh. 

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck. 

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ” 

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.”  he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between. 

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock. 

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us. 

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference. 

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.” 

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace. 

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me. 

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out. 

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on.  “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.” 

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me. 

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong. 

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me. 

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different. 

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between. 

i was exhausted. 

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day. 

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him. 

What now? 

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

 Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.  

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.  

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm. 

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother.   I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about. 

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ”  He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me. 

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way. 

For now I could only accept them at face value. 

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor. 

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that. 

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.” 

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all. 

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “ 

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless. 

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised. 

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery. 

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway. 

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place. 

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-” 

“Its her birthday.” 

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low. 

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard. 

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated. 

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.” 

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing. 

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.  i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently. 

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. 

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name. 

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?” 

He stared at me. 

“I want to go alone.” He said finally. 

I hesitated. 

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him. 

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often . 

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed. 

“Alright... Why don’t you go change  into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her.  “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards. 

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts. 

I would be in the car anyway.  By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago. 

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container. 

On a whim I moved to the cupboard  in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open. 

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him. 

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue. 

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?” 

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves. 

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact. 

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat. 

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him. 

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm. 

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake . 

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat. 

“I’ll do it.” 

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully. 

I smiled and zipped the bag shut. 

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet. 

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there. 

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him. 

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms. 

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive. 

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang. 

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning. 

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat. 

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101  now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.” 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt. 

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy. 

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me. 

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain. 

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes. 

it wasn’t that hard. 

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way. 

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use. 

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds. 

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders. 

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.  

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place. 

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done. 

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore. 

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.” 

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically. 

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “  I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.” 

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch. 

“No.. No I’m fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.?  “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again. 

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually, 

 “I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly. 

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise. 

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something. 

Partly because that would be so inconvenient. 

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened. 

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.” 

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans. 

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice. 

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked. 

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed. 

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly. 

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse. 

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows. 

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently. 

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts. 

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable. 

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me. 

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes. 

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully. 

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.” 

His face shifted into a frown. 

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.” 

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.” 

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial. 

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare. 

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little. 

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head. 

 “Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.” 

I gaped.

“Months?” 

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?” 

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye. 

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted. 

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this  at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table. 

Jungkook blinked. 

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away. 

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character. 

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun. 

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way. 

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself. 

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[miraclesabound]

Helluva Boss - Season 2, Episode 1 - “The Circus”

It’s here! I’m gonna make my notes as I go and put them behind the cut.

Little Stolas has an imp plushie??? Also, is that the same imp butler who serves the household when Stolas is grown?

“Which son is this one?” - well fuck you too, pal!

Oh. OOOOOOH SHIT. The Grimoire isn’t just his work book, it’s a gift from his father? And his dad arranged the marriage to Stella too? I should have known he was gonna be a nasty piece of work.

Was that Blitzo’s sister up on the tight rope? The Imps really are putting on a fantastic show!

*GASP* BABY BLITZO AND BABY FIZZ???? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME STOLAS HAS HAD A CRUSH OF BLITZO SINCE THEY WERE CHILDREN?

This definitely vibes with what Fizz and Robo have said about Blitzo not being as funny as he thinks he is.

Wow, it’s just a universe of shitty fathers!

I like that even if it’s about darker subjects, Fizz and Blitzo seem to be talking like actual kids.

“Don’t you wanna help me and your momma out?” “Of course I want to help Momma!” - very telling piece of dialogue here. Also, seems like Blitzo gets the pleading eyes thing from his dad.

Man, Stolas’ dad is my new love-to-hate character, I can tell.

“The Porthole Myth” - ha! Is there a whole branch of pirate trutherism in this universe?

Poor Stolas, he’s trying to be a good sport!

Well, at least Blitzo got his office, and lord knows he never gave up the horse obsession.

25 YEARS LATER - ok, that answers my question, I didn’t know if this whole episode would be a flashback.

Could anyone read the label on Stolas’s medicine bottle? I couldn’t tell if it was something prescription or if it was a party drug. (Ok, came back to this later, they’re just called Happy Pills.)

If Stella and Octavia are still here...is this the lead up to Stolas and Blitzo’s affair?

Stella, don’t you know that a lady doesn’t kiss and tell?? In Stolas’ shoes, I would be wanting the absinthe too.

Are these dog guys hellhounds like Loona and Tex?

Dammit, I’d hoped Blitzo might be doing this for the sake of old time, not just for the book. Oh well. But DAMN, he has moves! 

I can just hear the wheels turning in Blitzo’s head - “Shit, I want the book, but this guy needs a proper domming....dammit what do I do??”

I KNEW the censor gag had to be coming back soon.

“THAT was the sound - of a FUCKING DIVORCE!” - ok, that gives a lot of context - he and Stella have been in proceedings since the beginning; I bet her aiming to have him killed is about the settlement.

A new Stolas song!

Oooof, this conversation hurts, but it’s important. And jeez, if Octavia is already 17, the separation attempt has been going on for a year now.

I missed seeing the rest of the gang in this episode, but this filled in so many gaps. A perfect start to the season!

[masterwords]

running toward nothing (part six)

Summary: Hotch is injured in an explosion while on overseas assignment, putting Derek in a difficult position both with the team and with Spencer who has spent the last few months inadvertently falling in love with him. (Set around 07x01 - It Takes a Village but canon divergent by a lot.)

Warnings: drug use, infidelity (almost), kind of non-consensual touching, panic, pain...kinda nsfw so do with that what you will...Derek is about to have a lot of regrets.

Words: 2.1k

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan established

Notes: This is for @tobias-hankel’ s Spencer Whump Challenge. My assigned prompts to do my evil with were Derek Morgan & Betrayal…ooooooogh. This one is rough. I had a hard time writing it, not gonna lie. I threw a few temper tantrums. But we press on, right? Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do to get the outcome we're after...

CHAPTER LIST

Read on AO3: Running Toward Nothing

**

Lights out everywhere. The whole town was pitch black in a swirl of snow. A surprise late season storm, and the only perk Derek could see as he watched a flame flicker to life in his zippo was that at least the unsub would be held up as much by the storm as they were. Hard to hunt when no one was leaving their homes and so far, he didn't have another victim that they knew of. Time was suddenly suspended in the mountains.

“Generators should kick on shortly, but it's so damn cold who knows. Y'all should go back to the lodge and get some shut eye while ya can. Bound to be a long cold night.”

“They got power?” Derek asked, smirking in the dark. The sheriff laughed.

“Not likely. They got generators too but in this kinda freeze...well everything up here's old, see. Might take a bit. Few extra blankets and a night cap might not be a bad idea.”

The lodge, perched in a small clearing of trees, was dark. Shockingly dark, though the hum of a generator could be heard rumbling from where they parked their tired SUV. The snow was piling up rapidly, by morning it might be buried. “Well, something has power...” Rossi muttered, following the team through the deep snow. He could feel it forming clumps against his socks, bunching up against his ankles. Rossi really, really hated the snow. (Now, snow falling outside a warm cabin with a crackling fire and a glass of Sangiovese...that was different. This was not the same.)

“Not us,” was all Emily said, she and JJ breaking off from the pack to make for their room. Derek regarded Spencer with a strange look, wondering if he was still upset. It didn't seem like it but he'd learned over the years that if there was anyone he was absolute dog shit at reading, it was Spencer Reid. The kid had more nooks and crannies than an antique shop. The first thing Derek thought when they entered their room was simply that he wished he'd thought to leave their heater on, at least it would be warm in there now. Hotch wouldn't have forgotten that, he would have turned it up to full blast, the room would be stifling but no. It was almost as cold as outside.

“I say we pile all of the blankets onto one bed and huddle for warmth,” Derek announced and Spencer nearly choked on his tongue. “It's the smartest option. Better to do it now while we're not too cold than in the middle of the night when we're both shivering.”

Spencer had no argument. It was smart, sure, but also exactly what he wanted. While he went into the bathroom to change into his pajamas, Derek decided he'd do it right out in the open while he called Hotch. He just wanted to say goodnight, they hadn't talked since the argument about the damn pills, and he still had plenty of battery charge if he made it quick. “Hey baby, how are you doing?”

Hotch was quiet. It was a bad pain night, one for the books. He was trying to bide his time and make the pills he liked stretch until the new prescriptions could be filled but it was unpleasant, and he was having a very bad time with it. “I'm okay.” That's what he said, but what he meant was that he wished Derek was there and it was understood. Derek could hear the strain in his voice.

“I'm sorry baby," he said quietly. "I'll be home soon. We just got hit with a bastard of a storm...it'll be a few more days.” He spoke with a softness in his voice that he hadn't been able to find in the time he'd been away. He still felt terrible for snapping the night before, was just glad that Hotch was willing to talk with him after that. “I miss you.”

Hotch hummed in response, somewhere deep in the belly of his pain with nothing more than a handful of aspirin to take the edge off. It wasn't cutting it. Jess was rubbing his lower back, kneading in circles to try and take some of the pressure off but it was barely helping. He told her it was good because it made her feel like she was doing something while Sean slept. They were ships in the night these days. One on duty while the other slept or kept Jack occupied. Sean was better at helping him manage his pain, he could take him for walks (mostly up and down the driveway, maybe to the corner) because he was strong enough to help if anything happened. Jess couldn't do that, so she sat with him and rubbed his back.

(x)

It didn't take long before Spencer was shivering. Derek's internal thermostat seemed to be firing on all cylinders, he was still plenty warm, so he pushed right up next to the kid and whispered something cheeky about snuggling in the dark that made Spencer laugh. He'd taken one more of Hotch's Vicodin while he was changing, the fear of the dark too great. He thought it might take the edge off of everything being so black, no light in the room save for the pool of silver trying to drip through the blinds from the winter moon.

Spencer couldn't find a way to shut his mind off, even with the swirling feeling the pill was giving him. He was floating inside of the blankets, relaxed and almost separate from the intensity of the cold. Is this what it feels like in a chrysalis? His mind was fluttering on furry moth wings, warm and sticky and god he just wanted to talk. Like a child afraid of the dark, talking would help. Maybe he could tell Derek about moths.

“Derek?” His voice was small and came from deep in the mound of blankets, floating through the curves and crevices. It didn't sound like his own as it moved further from him. Derek's response was simply a hum, deep and gravely and thick with sleep. Derek slid closer on instinct alone, wrapped him in his arms and buried his face in Spencer's neck. His deep breathing had all the quality of a big cat purring and Spencer lost his moth dream and was thinking about tigers now. There was a part of him, buried deep, that knew without a doubt that Derek was sure he was holding Hotch, and he was right. Hotch, forever cold, shivering in the blankets and putting his cold feet between Derek's legs to steal whatever warmth he possessed...that was where Derek's mind was. Deep in a dream of being home, in better times, when Hotch wanted to be touched and, hell, could be touched. And maybe he was being silly about that, maybe he should have asked Hotch if he wanted it, if he was waiting too but he just didn't...it didn't matter. He was dreaming about it now and it was so good.

Spencer slipped around inside of the embrace until they were face to face, and in the dark he couldn't tell if Derek's eyes were open or closed but he pressed his lips to Derek's quickly and waited. Bold, maybe, but he had felt Derek's erection against his back and he wondered just enough if it weren't for him, at least on some level. Maybe he was thinking about Hotch, sure, but if he found out it was Spencer would it really be that bad? Derek kissed him back hungrily, holding him tight, and Spencer found himself no longer second guessing any of it. His entire world was the swell in Derek's pants and his sweet cherry chapstick.

It was all he'd ever wanted. The kiss was sleep laced and languid, full of a weird slow-building intensity. Every move carried rainbow shock tracers in the dark, and Spencer almost seemed to watch himself grow bolder by the minute, cold hands slipping up beneath Derek's sweatshirt, fingertips against abs he'd been dreaming about for years. Every move with less and less inhibition, and when he wasn't pushed away, when he was welcomed...he couldn't stop himself, he lost all control of his impulses. One hand first, no sense of timidity left, slipped lower and lower until he was grazing Derek's hip bone. Just a little further and he'd have it all, he knew it, and he felt bold. An out of body experience, he felt Derek hard against his thigh and he let his hands move further without waiting for any further invitations, Derek's lips on his and his roaming hands were all the permission he needed. Beneath the waistband of Derek's sweats he paused and smiled into the kiss, not surprised to find that Derek wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Pressed up close, Spencer's pulse quickened and Derek's breath was so damn hot against his neck. The chill of the room couldn't touch him there. He let his hand slip further, dangerously close and trembling with anticipation, would have made it too if he wasn't stopped by a sudden sharp intake of breath from Derek. Not quite a gasp and definitely not a noise of pleasure, Spencer drew back instantly, pulled his hand back to safety. The space between them grew until it felt like a canyon and he listened to the quick, shallow breathing from Derek in the dark. He couldn't see a thing, and for the first time that night he was grateful because for another blissful second he could pretend that it hadn't been a mistake and that Derek wasn't going to be upset with him. Spencer stared wide eyed straight ahead as Derek blinked himself fully awake, came to his senses, his breathing now almost panicky.

“Spencer?” he gasped, almost falling out of the bed in his desperation to put more distance between them. There was no amount that felt like enough. His hands were shaking, but his body...god his body still wanted that touch. It had been so long, almost 4 months now, he'd been dreaming about touching Hotch again...he dreamed it almost every night now and woke up in a cold sweat but he hadn't thought it would happen now, in a bed with Spencer and god...what has he done? Spencer was almost cowering for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. He thought Derek was awake, or at least partially awake...into it...

“I'm...I'm sorry. I thought...” Spencer stammered, blinking wildly in the dark. Derek stood in the puddle of silver moonlight rubbing his face, trying to get a grip on what was happening, what his body was still driving him toward. For one blissful moment he lighted on the possibility that he was still stuck in his dream, that he was actually still sleeping. But somehow he knew that wasn't true. This was real. A cold shower sounded stupid under the circumstances but he needed it. So desperately, even if he froze to death. “Derek?”

“No, it's my fault,” Derek mumbled, still in shock. “I guess my mind...” Four months, he thought bitterly. Four months and now look at him. The worst part was that there was maybe no end in sight. And god now he was going to have to tell Hotch...he couldn't even look at Spencer, he felt so awful. “I must have been dreaming. Kid, I'm so sorry. I really fucked up.”

“It's okay...” Spencer said it in a way that Derek thought sounded heartbreaking and hopeful, like he wanted it. Suddenly things were falling into some kind of painfully clear and bright order and Derek felt his stomach twist. He was going to be sick. “Derek, it's okay if you wanted to...I know it's been a long time...”

The dark wrapped him up tight, and Derek thought for a moment that he might pass out. What had he done? What the hell had he done? Forcing his breathing to slow, he counted, tried all of his tricks to calm himself and think rationally. He didn't do anything he couldn't explain to Hotch, it was innocent...stupid, incredibly fucking stupid, but innocent. As long as he took a shower and killed the last of the fire on his skin (and in his pants), it would remain innocent.

“No,” he replied softly, finally finding his voice. “No, Spencer, that's...I'm sorry if I lead you on, made you feel like something was here that isn't...”

He was already walking toward the shower, now in a sort of daze. “I never meant to. I'm so sorry.” The bathroom door closed and locked behind him, and yeah, he knew the power was off and he'd be freezing in a pitch-black ice-cold shower but that was fine. He sat himself down beneath the spray and cried the tears he'd been holding in since Hotch got home. Maybe longer. Maybe since the moment Emily came back and smiled at him with a watery apology floating in the depths of deceit. He didn't know anymore, but his tears were hot and the water was cold and his body went numb sitting there.

[bex-la-get]

Take Care of You (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Tobias Carrick

Word count: 2175

Summary: When Ethan falls sick, Nat steps in to take care of him.

Rating: T

Author’s Note: Hi, hello. It’s been a crappy week and I’m emotionally/physically exhausted. So here’s some fluff to counter the bad week. This is unedited, so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you like it. 💙

Ethan never got sick. Ever. Despite working in a hospital, surrounded by sick people on a daily basis, Ethan always managed to stay as healthy as possible. He had prided himself on his strong immune system and seemingly inability to fall ill.

Until today, that is. He woke with so much pressure in his sinuses, he thought his head would burst. Getting out of bed was a feat in itself, as his whole body ached. He sniffled as he made his way to the bathroom and nearly jumped at his own reflection: his eyes were puffy, his nose was red, and his posture was significantly slouched. He tried to stand up straight but only groaned as his body protested the movement. Today was going to be long. 

Pushing through, he swallowed a couple of DayQuils with his morning coffee, stuffed some tissues into his pocket, and gave Jenner a pat on the head before sluggishly making his way to work. 

Arriving at the hospital, he noticed the looks of surprise and concern that people gave him as he passed. He didn’t know why; it was just a little cold. It wasn’t like he had grown a second head. He rolled his eyes and continued towards the seventh floor, ignoring everyone he walked past. 

Finally arriving in the Diagnostics Office, he found himself breathing heavier than normal. As he sat at his desk, he attempted to take a deep breath but instead triggered a coughing fit. He grabbed a nearby Kleenex and coughed hard, his body wracking with the movement. He took a deep breath and coughed one last time before his lungs took pity on him and stopped causing him distress. Ethan groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 

“Ethan? You okay, man?” a voice said.

Ethan looked up to find Tobias looking at him with concern. He hadn’t even heard his old friend come in. He nodded and sighed. “Yeah; just a little under the weather today, is all.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should probably go home,” Tobias suggested. “There’s no point in pushing yourself to further exhaustion.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’m fine; I just need the DayQuil to kick in.”

Tobias pursed his lips then clicked his tongue. “If you say so; Nat’s not gonna be happy to see you like this though.”

“See who like what?” the aforementioned doctor asked as she walked into the room. Natalie looked to Tobias first then Ethan, her eyes widening. “Woah, are you okay?” She quickly made her way over to Ethan and rested the back of her hand to his forehead. 

He weakly brushed her hand away. “I’m fine, Nat. Just a little under the weather.”

“I’d say more than a little; you look terrible!” She exclaimed. He frowned and she gave him a small smile. “Sorry babe, but it’s true.”

“I also walked in on him having a serious coughing fit a moment ago,” Tobias said. Ethan glared at Tobias but the latter deliberately avoided eye contact with him, choosing to look at his phone instead.

Natalie gently placed her hand on Ethan’s cheek and turned his face towards her so she could look at him. He watched as her eyes scanned his face and knew she was trying to figure out how sick he really was. He both loved and hated how well she knew him sometimes. “You should go home, Ethan.��

“I’m fine,” he argued. “I already took some meds, they just need to kick in.”

She pulled out her stethoscope and pointed it at him threateningly. “Go home or I’ll admit you.”

Tobias coughed back a chuckle and Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I’m your boss, right?”

She nodded as she put the headset into her ears and placed the cold chestpiece against his chest, making him jump. “You’re my boss, my boyfriend, and now, my patient. Breathe in.”

“Nat, this is ridiculous--” he argued but stopped when she glared at him.

“Breathe. In.” she repeated. Shaking his head in reply, he did as she said and found taking a breath was difficult. He fought the cough he could feel bubbling up but to no avail; thankfully, however, this cough was not nearly as violent as the last one. Nat pulled the chestpiece away and nodded. “Yeah, you’re a mess. You’re going home.” He opened his mouth to protest but she held up her hand. “Don’t argue with me on this. You’re in no state to work, let alone be around other sick patients.” 

She pulled out a prescription pad, scribbled something down then turned to Tobias and handed it to him. “Tobias, can you send this down to the pharmacy so they can get it filled? I’ll pick it up when it’s ready.”

He nodded and took the form. “Sure thing.” He turned to Ethan and smiled sympathetically. “Get better soon, Ethan. Nat’s not as fun to be around when she’s in charge.”

Natalie rolled her eyes and smirked as Tobias made his way out of the office. She turned back to Ethan and softened her gaze as he frowned and sniffled. She caressed his cheek with her hand. “I love you.”

His frown shifted to a small smile. “I love you too.” He sneezed.

“You see why I’m sending you home, right?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah; I do. I hate being sick. I always feel so useless.”

“You are still human, my love; and humans get sick from time to time. It’s normal.” She crouched in front of him and took his hands in hers. “I’ll come over after my shift and make you some soup, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that--” he weakly protested.

She shook her head. “I want to; let me take care of you, baby. Please.”

Sighing, he nodded and stood, bringing Natalie up with him. He reached for her but hesitated as he didn’t want to make her ill. She smiled at him and stood on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

He nodded. Sighing, he left the hospital and made his way home, his head in a fog for most of the journey. After safely arriving home, he changed into some more comfortable clothing, with the intention of getting some work done on his laptop; but the bed looked just so inviting. I guess I could lay down for a few minutes, he thought. Gently, he laid on the bed and closed his eyes. Five minutes is all I need. Within seconds, his body relaxed and he began to emit quiet snores, work completely forgotten.

-------------------------------------------

Several Hours Later

Ethan woke to the muffled sounds of the television and someone shuffling around in his kitchen. He groaned and got out of bed, padding his way to the source of the noise. As he exited the bedroom, he was greeted with the various sights of onion, tomato, and meat that were cooking on the stovetop. Unfortunately, due to his stuffed sinuses, he could barely smell anything but he presumed it was heavenly.

“Hi,” a voice said. He turned his attention to the source and smiled as Natalie approached him, throwing a hand towel over her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” he replied, truthfully.

She gently brought his forehead to her lips as she judged his temperature. She hummed as she pulled away. “You’re warm.” She turned around and grabbed a small box out of her purse then handed it to him. He looked it over appraisingly, realizing this must be the prescription Nat wrote out earlier. “Take one of these now; it should lower your fever and help you feel better. Go get comfortable, the soup will be ready soon.”

“You didn’t have to do all this, Nat,” he began.

“Of course I did,” she said, cutting him off. She rested a gentle hand on his back and guided him towards the sofa. “Now, relax and get comfy. I’m almost done.”

Ethan did as she said, plopping down on the couch. He opened the prescription box and took the prescribed medication as Jenner trotted over and rested his head in his master’s lap. Ethan patted the pup’s head soothingly, giving him a tired smile. “Has she been giving you orders today, too?” he asked.

“Unlike you, Jenner is a spectacular patient,” Nat answered from the kitchen. “He’s been very good and even earned himself a few treats for being so good.”

“Did you, now?” Ethan mused, looking down at Jenner. The pup, none the wiser to the conversation happening about him, simply wagged his tail and gave his best doggy smile to his owner. Ethan chuckled. “Good dog.”

Taking the remote, he flipped to the Classic Film channel and sunk lower onto the couch. He felt his body begin to shiver and grabbed the nearby throw blanket, covering himself with it. “God, this is awful. I hate being sick.”

“I know, my love,” Nat soothed. “But the meds I gave you should help. They just need time to kick in. And,” she walked over and placed a bowl of hot soup in front of him on the coffee table, “this should help too. It’s an old family recipe of Dani’s. It works wonders.”

“Speaking from experience?” he asked, leaning over, letting the steam from the hot bowl wash over his face. 

Nat nodded. “Yep. Both Dani and I got the flu within a week of each other when we were still living together. She made this soup for us and we both felt better almost immediately. I’m convinced it’s got magic powers.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.” He pulled the coffee table a little closer to the couch and smiled at Nat. “Thank you for making this.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, returning his smile. “Now, eat. I’ll be right there.”

Lacking the energy to argue, he did as she said, bringing a spoonful of the hot soup to his lips. Within minutes, Ethan felt the hot liquid warm up his body, which had been starting to feel cold. Nat smiled as she joined him with her own bowl, nodding in approval as he steadily ate. 

Nat filled him in on what he missed at work while they ate, which hadn’t been much, thankfully. Their new patient wouldn’t be admitted for another week so the team had just done some prep and research today but nothing else beyond that. Ethan asked a few questions as Nat explained but otherwise, remained quiet through their conversation. Nat raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “You’re being unusually cooperative. What’s the matter?”

He chuckled and placed his near empty bowl on the coffee table. “Nothing. I’m just feeling a little drained, is all.”

“Mm, I’m not surprised. When you get sick, it hits you like a freight train.”

He frowned. “Thanks.”

Nat chuckled and settled deeper into the couch. She opened her arms and gestured towards herself with her fingers. “C’mere.”

Needing no further invitation, Ethan maneuvered himself into Nat’s embrace, covering them both with the throw blanket he had still been wearing. As he relaxed in her arms, he wondered aloud, “Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

She hummed. “Nah. But even if I was, it wouldn’t stop me from being here.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I would take care of you, anytime.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Nat. You’re too good for me.”

“No, I’m not,” she replied, smiling. “We’re just the right amount of good for each other.” She kissed his head. “Can I get you anything else?”

He shook his head, tightening his hold around her midsection. “No. Just you.”

“I’m right here,” Nat reassured. 

“Love you,” Ethan murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too. Now, rest.” She gently leaned over and took the remote from the coffee table.

“Don’t watch the next episode of Bake Off without me,” Ethan said, his voice drowsy.

Nat chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare. When you’re feeling better, we’ll pick up where we left off.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced down to find that Ethan had fallen asleep. Smiling to herself, she turned on an old favorite film of hers and watched, while running her fingers up and down Ethan’s back. 

It would be a few more days before Ethan was back in top shape; but Nat took care of him the entire time. From bringing him food to ensuring he rested instead of working, Nat took better care of Ethan than he had ever done himself when he had been sick in the past. He’d never been so well taken care of before, and it made him all the more grateful to have her in his life. He’d always hoped she’d take over the DT for him one day; and after the way she cared for him, he knew the team would be in the best possible hands. And so would he.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter @chaoticchopshopheart @ohchoices @maurine07 @oldminniemcg @parisa-kh @shanzay44 @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer @adiehardfan @custaroonie @mia143 @a-crepusculo @takemyopenheart @toadfrog26 @quixoticdreamer16 @barbean @headoverheelsforramsey @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @crazy-loca-blog @dorisz @thegreentwin @cryomyst @kalinahonore @choicesficwriterscreations @rosebudde @trappedinfanfiction @custaroonie​

[scandinavianfairytale]

Merveille

Pairing: Past and kinda present Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Warning: None, just cuteness overload 😊

Your eyesight was rapidly declining since you turned 87. Surprisingly you were okay with it, after all you lived a long and great life and saw so many beautiful things and places. Besides, it was part of getting older - while the medicine advanced exponentially it still couldn't prevent aging. The only thing that you mourned over were the picture albums you could no longer browse. They were the only material thing that you refused to part with, even though you lived a nomadic lifestyle most of your life.

Your great granddaughter Grace knew how deeply you mourned the pictures that were now only blurry smears on a faded white background. She was the one that inherited your knack for photography and in her free time she operated as a freelance photographer. Growing up and being educated in the modern world, Grace had more tools available to her and decided to surprise you for your 97th birthday. She kept borrowing albums from you and slowly digitalised all of them.

"Happy birthday, Grandma." Grace smiled as you opened your front door and were greeted by your beautiful and smiling great granddaughter. You invited her inside and offered her some coffee and biscuits. You chatted for a bit, before she clasped your hand.

"I have a special surprise for you. Get ready and meet me outside." She smiled and you quickly went to get changed, well as quickly as your old bones would let you.

When you locked your front door, Grace helped you to the car and drove you to the second location - the rented photography studio she worked in when she had some additional time. Loud clapping startled you as you opened the doors and were met with all your friends and family. They congratulated you and sat you down in the small space that was now filled with chairs. The giant white wall that usually had hundreds of pictures hanging from it was now completely bare and Grace sat down next to you.

"Happy 97th, Grandma." She kissed your cheek and pressed a button on the remote she held in her hand. In front of you, the white wall came alive with giant pictures of your life. Tears welled in your eyes and you clasped Graces' shoulder and leaned on her. She watched you with a giant smile on her face.

Your hand covered your mouth when you saw the first picture of you and Bucky - at the signing of The Hobbit in 1937, your first date. Your whole life was displayed on the big screen and after three years you could finally see it clearly again. The good, joyful though and sad moments of your life with Bucky, before he disappeared on that mission with Steve. How you packed up your apartment after the war and set out to explore the world with your kids. Your kids growing up with changing scenery in the background. Your van. The thousands of landscapes and sunsets / sunrises that you caught. The wedding photos of your kids. Your grandchildren. And great grandchildren. Steve returning in your life, the picture side by side with the one they took together before he became Captain America. And the day you found out Bucky was alive. In between the slideshow stopped and you had to tell the story behind the photo. It was so cathartic to replay them again.

As the last picture left the wall you turned to Grace, wiping the tears away, and hugged her as strongly as you could.

"Thank you, Grace. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Wait, there's one more part to this surprise." you heard from behind you and Steve came into view. He clasped your shoulder and bent down to hug you. The door opened carefully and Bucky walked in, looking uncomfortable and awkward.

"J-James?" You asked, not believing your prescription glasses.

"Hi, Doll." He smiled as he set his eyes on you. Even though 65+ years were added to your exterior, he could never forget the love of his life. He was trying to avoid seeing you since he resurfaced, too afraid of what you'd think of him, even though you begged Steve to convince him. And now there he was, standing in front of you, looking exactly like he did in 1944. You stood up, wobbly, Bucky immediately grabbing your hand to help you. All you could do was stare. You lifted you hand and cupped his face. It felt like time has stopped and you remember, vividly, how your life was like back then. How happy you were. And how heart-breaking it was to lose him.

"It's really you." You smiled and hugged him. You quickly ushered him forward and made him meet the family they created together. He was immediately swarmed by his kids and other relatives, a million questions flying his way and hand squeezes offered from every direction. You stood by the side, observing your husband socializing with his family - it was everything that you ever wished for.

"How are you feeling?" Grace came to stand by you. You leaned on her again, your eyes twinkling with happiness.

"Content. You gifted me my greatest wish, something I thought impossible. I love you, Gracie." Grace smiled at you and kissed your forehead.

Thank you for reading! 😊💙

The GIF is not mine, belongs to the amazing creator 🙏😊

Merveille means miracle in French and this whole thing that happed in the story, the reader would describe it as Merveille. The reader spent a lot of time in France and while she has been back in the States for years now, she still uses some French words to describe certain feelings she feels. The ones too special to use English for. 😊

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Two

Part One

------------------

Anakin takes the news with... not grace, really, but an odd sort of resignation.

"Room to fix things," he mutters to himself, eyes set unseeing on Luke's tiny form.

Twins are often born smaller than single births, Rex remembers hearing somewhere. He hopes that's the only reason these two are so small. Leia feels absolutely minuscule in his arms.

He wishes he could ask Kix.

"Do you want to find Jango?"

Rex lifts his head to find Anakin staring at him with an earnest kind of depression. It's strange, and sad, and not helping with the question. "What?"

"You... you grew up with a lot of family," Anakin mutters, eyes cutting away to the side. "Fett would be a kid right now, yeah? He's... young. And you don't have the family that you used to have, but--"

"I'm not going to go out and find Fett to adopt him," Rex says firmly. "He was a genetic donor and once or twice a teacher. I have no interest in forming any bonds there."

He hesitates, but that was--Anakin was trying. Not succeeding, but trying. "Thank you for asking. It's... maybe if my childhood had been a little different, I'd have wanted that. But I don't, here."

Anakin winces. "Right."

Rex watches his general bounce a newborn, and thinks this is my life now.

There is no GAR to fight for, no brothers to save, no Empire to fight against. They'd thought there would be, but there isn't, not yet. They could find and warn the Jedi, but none of them would know Anakin. Nobody is going to look at Rex and see a clone. He's older than Fett, now.

"We're staying here," Rex decides. Anakin looks up from Luke's little face. "I'll figure out how to get us some Republic Idents. We'll get the twins registered. This planet is safe and out of the way, and we can figure something out for the money. You're a good mechanic, that's honest work, and I'm... I don't know. We've got a ship, so I can maybe do what Fett did and take bounty work. We'll figure something out."

"I can't ask you to stay with me."

"You're not asking," Rex says firmly. "I'm telling you. You don't get to push me away, sir. We're all the other has left, and you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Okay," Anakin says. "If that's what you want."

------------------

They don't have a whole lot of money personally, but this was Padme's ship. She'd been rich, and prone enough to danger to know the worth of hiding money where she could. They may not have more than a few weapons on here, but they have money.

For now.

Rex knows his general is itching to go to Tatooine, sees the man muttering and twitching about it, needing to do something, and that the something has to do with Tatooine.

"Can it wait?" Rex asks.

Anakin stares at him, uncomprehending.

"Your kids are only a week old," Rex tries to explain. "They need you right now. Is this something that can wait a few months, where I can watch them while you take a week or two to handle what you need to do?"

Anakin takes Leia from Rex, and doesn't bring it up again.

------------------

Rex goes with Anakin, when they visit the nurse. He catches gossip about the two of them, but people don't go out of their way to approach. Mostly, people are just repeating the 'died in childbirth' cover that he gave before, telling each other who the strangers are, and why they shouldn't try to get involved.

The nurse asks only enough questions to get a medical baseline established for the twins. Anakin doesn't volunteer much, and when the Twi'lek woman asks if they'd like her to set up medical files for either of them, Rex has to immediately decline.

He has no idea what his blood is going to turn up. Genetic fuckery and something to deal with the advanced aging, maybe. He's not sure he wants to know, but either way, it's probably not going to be something this small clinic can handle.

"I'll have to set one up if you want to take the lactation aid," she tells Anakin.

"Yeah, okay."

She takes blood. Almost everything is mostly normal, except.

"Your midichlo--"

"I know."

"Are you--"

"Jedi aren't allowed to marry."

She doesn't dig further, just glances at how Anakin's holding Luke, and nods.

"It doesn't seem like there are any complicating factors. I can write up a prescription right now and you should be able to get it filled same-day. There will be a list of instructions and side-effects on flimsi when you pick it up, but I'd like to go over it in person first. Do you want Mr. Torrent to stay here with you as we do that, or to wait in the hall?"

"Up to him."

"I'll stay," Rex promises.

------------------

Three pills a day, one with every meal. Tissue stimulation by massaging the pectoral area, and allowing the twins to suckle even before there's anything to actually drink. Expect soreness and increased appetite, don't drink caffeine or take any form of stimulant while nursing. Here's a list of possible side-effects, the best way to handle the minor ones, and which ones to contact a medical professional about.

All very normal.

Anakin's rarely ever done anything with less than his whole heart, and Rex isn't surprised to know that Anakin is this dedicated a parent as well. He's... he was proud to serve his general, but he thinks there's something just as fulfilling as being by his side here and now. There's something better about helping raise the little ones that would never be found on a battlefield.

"Do you want them to call you Uncle Rex?" Anakin asks during a feeding. "Or... ba'vodu? Or do you want to just..."

"Just what?"

"...we're going to be co-parenting," Anakin says, not meeting his eyes. "And every time I try to suggest you go and find something for yourself, something that doesn't revolve around me, a person you were literally tube-grown for, you say you don't want to leave. So if you're going to be sticking around, really staying for years and years... we could tell them to call you buir. If you want."

"Oh."

Oh.

It's a lot. It's something Rex has maybe fantasized about before, getting to be a parent instead of just a soldier, but he'd also resigned himself to the fact that it wasn't really an option. Even now, he'd just expected to be a friend of the father, maybe an honorary uncle if he was lucky, or--

"Are you sure?" Rex asks, before he can start to hope. "I don't--I don't want to take Padme's place."

"You're not," Anakin says, fierce as anything. "You won't--nobody can ever take her place, but there are people with five parents, or none, and I'm not going to--I don't want to--"

Anakin squeezes his eyes shut and breathes harshly for a few moments. Leia fusses, like she's seconds away from crying, and Rex watches as his general holds the child in his arms closer to his chest, visibly focusing on calming down in a way he rarely, if ever, had during the war.

"It's okay, Papa just got a little upset, it's fine, we're calm, I'm sorry I got sad, honey, I'm sorry you had to feel that," Anakin whispers under his breath as he bounces the baby.

(Raising Force-Sensitive children was never going to be easy anyway.)

"You're sure about this?" Rex asks again.

"You want to be involved in their lives," Anakin mutters. "So... yeah, you should get to be their dad in name, too. And if you use Mando'a, it'll be easier for them to have different names for us."

"People are going to think we're together."

Anakin shrugs. "People think a lot of things."

Rex wants this. He wants to imagine the twins toddling up to him, grins on their faces, calling him buir and meaning it. He wants to have what he saw at the Lawquane's, where a lack of blood connection and a half-sliced age hadn't stopped those children from claiming Cut as their father. He's only thirteen, technically, but he wants to have a family, even if it's as broken as what they've found here.

"I'd be honored, sir," Rex says. "I... thank you. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"You don't have to," Anakin mutters, refusing to meet his eyes. "I can feel it."

Right.

"They already love you," Anakin continues, as if his goal today is to just smash Rex's decorum to pieces. "Part of that is just baby stuff, I think; they don't exactly know more than us yet, but you're around them all the time and are primary caregiver whenever I'm not... not okay. So they love you, so much, and I just... I'm not going to ignore that when you already love them too. So you should get to be their dad. If you want."

He does want.

"I'd like that," he says, and knows that he hasn't bothered shielding in days, so Anakin knows just how sincere that is.

Anakin hesitates, visibly so, and then stands and crosses the room to join Rex on the couch, each of them holding a twin.

A head rests lightly on Rex's shoulder. He lets it.

"There are rites," Anakin says quietly. "On Tatooine, for the slaves lost to the desert. People that died in search of their freedoms, where there's no body to bury but you still need to mourn."

Rex knows this. He says, "the clones had mourning traditions for the brothers who died in explosions or behind enemy lines, the ones we couldn't retrieve."

Anakin knows this as well. He nods.

They sit together, quietly, as calm as they can be for the too-perceptive children in their arms, and they know they need to mourn properly.

Rex can only hold his jagged edges in place for so long.

[brandyllyn]

What’s the story behind the time you got thrown into Target jail?

🤦🏽‍♀️

Okay look, sometimes you go to Target for some specific thing - say a big plastic storage bin. You know the one you can fit a five year old inside of? And while you're there you remember you have prescriptions to fill because your brain doesn't produce chemicals the way it's supposed to.

So you go to get your prescription filled and set the bin on the counter and it turns out your insurance has changed and you get into a discussion of why your copay went from $5 to $10 and after working that out you throw your meds in the bin and go to leave where the guy who apparently just started because he's really gung-ho asks to see your receipt and you have nothing to hide so you show it to him and he says, with a raised eyebrow, that the GIANT IMPOSSIBLE TO MISS STORAGE BIN was not rung up.

And of course you had in your head how much it all was supposed to be which was like $11 with meds plus bin and you hadn't recalculated when the meds changed price so hadn't noticed that the pharmacist had not wring up your purchase. So you try to explain this and the high on power loss prevention officer takes you to a small windowless room with security camera feeds in it and a desk and tells you you'll have to wait to talk to someone.

So there you are with you brain meds, which you are starting to think you should take right now, and your plastic bin you didn't really need that badly anyway trying to decide if sprinting is an option when a young woman who is at least a decade younger than you comes in with a sigh and asks what happened. So you explain about the pharmacist and the meds change and the bin and she sighs again even heavier in a way that says if this were up to her she'd let you leave but she knows Johnny McMallCop out there would file like a Target report on her or something so she pulls out a piece of paper and tells you to CONFESS to your CRIMES and makes a photocopy of your driver's license.

And while you're writing "My bin didn't ring up and I did not notice" as the crime you have committed she's telling you that you are now BANNED from TARGET for one year, and they're not getting the police involved but if you come back there will be a trespass order. And like any self-respecting woman you start freaking out because how on earth can you not go to Target for a whole year? Where will you get your chotsckis and your cheap t-shirts and shampoo now?

At which point the woman explains it's not all Targets, just that particular one, and you're welcome to go to literally any other Target in the world just not the one in Emeryville, CA. So for the next year you drive to the one in Alameda, CA which is nicer anyway and next to some lovely little fast restaurants. And because you can no longer walk to Target whenever you feel like it you save approximately seven gajillion dollars on dinosaur shaped planters and crop tops.

Also, they don't let you buy your bin as you're leaving which was the whole fucking point of going in the first place.

[mourntheantagonist]

billy has asthma

he was diagnosed with it when he was just eight years old after having a severe attack at school during p.e. and neil thought the whole thing was just an attention grab. always telling him to suck it up after a game of baseball when he was gasping for air. reaching for his inhaler only for neil to knock it out of his hands and call him a pussy. “just breathe you big baby!”

the only reason he even had an inhaler was because his mother would be the one to go down and refill his prescription. but when she was gone, there was nothing he could do. neil wouldn’t pay for it and he didn’t have the money. so he just had to deal. which is hard when the same father who won’t buy you your means for breathing also was the one forcing you to play high intensity sports.

he learned to work around it as best he could. going from an outdoor sport like baseball and soccer to an indoor sport like basketball. cold weather always aggravating it more. he was lucky enough to play center, which meant less running back and forth down the court.

smoking somehow made attacks less frequent. years of training his airway to endure smoke inhalation, it didn’t feel better, but constant uncomfort in his lungs made the symptoms something he was able to get used to. the problem arose though that when he did get an attack, it was ten times worse than what he used to have.

his airway felt like it was entirely restricted. it would burn and he could barely even get a wheezing sound to escape. all he could do in those moments was stand with his hands on his head, shut his eyes, and just pray that it went away before it killed him.

there was a time that it nearly did. it was only shortly before they would move off to hawkins when it hit him suddenly with no trigger to cause it. those were the ones that freaked him out the most and had him tossing himself around his room in a panic as he gasped for air. completely in a daze as he felt the effects of a lack of oxygen start to his him and his vision blurred and he became surprisingly calm. tears filling his eyes as his chest felt compressed by a fifty pound weight and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

he can’t remember much of what happened, other than the bright red piece of plastic being waved in his face that he somehow recognized to be an inhaler saved his life. he only pieced it together when he woke up in his bed with max sitting next to him with her hand on his chest. monitoring him as he slept, feeling the rise and fall and making sure he didn’t stop breathing. she just handed the inhaler to him and said she would tell her mom she lost hers and would need a new one.

he savored it for as longs as he could. keeping close track of the number on the back as it ticked down from the 130 remaining puffs to the low digit that it was at now.

now being a playoff game that billy has admittedly been over exerting himself with. their backup center was out with an injury so billy was playing double the time and he was starting to feel his airway tightening and his breath cold in his throat. coughing up a storm but he just kept on pushing and pushing.

until he’s coughing up blood into the pit of his elbow and he’s getting lightheaded. he’s stumbling across the court and eventually he hears a whistle blow and he’s about ready to collapse.

“hit the lockers hargrove. drink some water you’re done.” billy wants to protest but he’s not even sure he could get a word out if he tried. “harrington, go with him and make sure he doesn’t die.”

steve had rolled his ankle halfway through the game so he was also out. so now you had a limping steve supporting a breathless billy on his shoulder all the way to the locker room.

somehow steve knew exactly what to do. billy was sitting on the bench with his hands up over his head, opening up his chest as steve began turning the showers on to the hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room.

“do you have an inhaler?”

billy nods. it’s getting worse and he can feel the familiar fire in his lungs. he’s fighting hard to keep the tears out of his eyes but he can only hope the hot steam hitting his face can mask the falling drops from his lashes.

“where is your stuff?”

billy can’t answer. his breath literally caught in his throat.

“billy you gotta talk to me buddy.”

he can’t. he tries but all that comes out is a wheeze. he just frantically points to the locker across the room and hopes steve can see where he’s pointing to.

steve practically sprints the ten foot distance over to the locker and pulls the duffel out from inside. chaotically sifting through the contents of the bag until he finds the plastic encasing. running back to billy and putting it into his hands. billy quickly brings it to his mouth, pushes down...

and there’s nothing.

just a pathetic puff of air and it barely helps at all. the counter is at zero and all billy can do is chuck the canister across the floor and shut his eyes and say the little prayer he’s said many times before.

steve’s hands find his shoulders and ground him back to the reality he was starting to escape from.

“billy I need you to relax, okay? focus on trying to breathe. it’ll pass just stay calm for me.”

billy takes in a shaky and wheezy breath. it’s not great, but it’s something.

“keep doing that okay? slow and steady, you’ve got it.”

steve’s hands found their way to his cheeks. he was looking right at billy who had his eyes shut with and uncontrollable stream of tears escaping past closed lids. he knew steve was only doing it to straighten his neck and open his airway, but it felt tender. and it helped in more ways than opening his airway.

it made him feel safe in a way. made him feel like all those times when his mom would do the same for him as a kid. walk him all the way through the attack, holding his hand and securing him.

his breathing started to become clearer and the coughing was less frequent.

“that’s it. I’m gonna go get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

“don’t.” billy grabs steve by the wrist. his voice is broken and raspy. “stay.”

steve just looks down at him and kneels right back down in front of him. taking his hands into his own now that they’ve found their way to billy’s lap. gently rubbing circles into his palms as he can feel billy’s breath become increasingly more even. “okay.”

billy just cries. doesn’t care about how pathetic he looks in front of steve because he’s not in any state to be holding his breath. and steve is nothing but kind. kind to the same guy who was anything but kind to him. wiping away at his tears and talking him down from his combined asthma and panic attack. and he didn’t leave.

hugging him loosely enough to where he could still breathe but tightly enough he felt safe and secure until the final buzzer echoed and the locker room filled with the rest of the team.

and when it was all over, he didn’t tell anybody.

instead billy found an inhaler in his locker the following week attached to a note.

“I saw max’s name printed on the label and she told me. tell me when you run out and I’ll refill it for you. don’t fucking die on me dude.”

- steve

[bakugohoex]

Can I request Bakugo’s s/o having a major sweet tooth, like for some reason every time he thinks he got rid of her candy he just finds a handful in her pocket

“you bought more, didn’t you”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: fluff, language

word count: 1100+

a/n: i dont even know what this is, it is so stupidly funny because it doesnt even make sense, like what the fuck, bruh but i know we all had a faze where toast would just become amazing and avidly eat it 24/7

summary:  in which your sweet tooth becomes the bane of bakugo’s life, finding out you house even more sweets in your pockets, his only way to finally get you stop seems to be a bit more different than his initial plan

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Lollipops were definitely your go to sweets, you loved sucking on them and the different flavours you had each day brought joy to your mouth. It was easier to suck on them then bite your nails when you became anxious, so you always kept a lollypop with you.

Of course you told Bakugo about it, your reasonings being evident and he had been fine with it, not really caring and as long as you had something to help your anxiety then he was fine with it.

That’s what he thought it had been, until he found the wrappers, the containers filled with different sweets, from the sour worms to the gumdrops. 

He seriously could feel his heart ache at the mountains of containers you had, he seriously had to take a double take thinking he’d walked into Charlie and the Chocolate factory.

Surprisingly, there was no chocolate, but the sweets littered your new dorm, your bin filled with wrappers. 

That's when he knew he had to sort this problem out, he couldn't watch you eat anymore knowing how much you had already eaten. 

He got scary not gonna lie, shouting at the side effects off excessive sugar, made a presentation of just rotting teeth, he made you watch the whole thing with his stupid laser pen as he went around the rotted teeth.

It was gross as fuck, very traumatic.

He helped you a lot to cut down on the sugar with your sweets, wanting you to try and get down to one lollypop a day and that was it. 

He tried, but you’d end up buying some more, hell knows where you got the money from.

Threatens you but in the end, it gets to you after he finds the wrappers again and confesses how he just wants the best for you.

You ask for a substitute and this man brings you the worst substitute ever. 

It’s when he leaves something that it seems your excessive sugar intake may have finally gone down.

Bakugo had been left waiting outside your dorm as you wore your UA uniform, he never understood how you could wake up so late. But he didn’t question it seeing you walk out happily, your mouth sucking a sweet to calm you down. You had described it like marijuana but without the consequences of it, which he glared at you for saying. Even then your avid sweet tooth had become an insane problem, you may have cut down on the sweets, but you always seemed to get your hands on some. 

“Want to try?” You popped the lollypop out from your mouth, your saliva sticking to the purple sweet. Bakugo would regret agreeing knowing having a sugar rush in the morning was not the best bet but if it stopped you from eating it all he’d take it. 

He nodded, watching as you put the sweet in his mouth, the white stick being the only thing visible as he sucked on the grape flavouring, still being able to taste your spit mixed in with it. 

Walking into class hand in hand, he kept the lollypop in his mouth watching you leave without a trace of sweets on you. You seemed calmer as he watched you sit beside him, well that's until he saw your stuffed pockets. Aizawa had been running late and everybody began conversing with each other, “you bought more, didn’t you.” He mutters stuffing his hand in your grey blazer to find small hard sweets inside the pocket. “Y/n, really, even after my presentation.”

“I just love them so much.” You pouted grabbing them and stuffing them in your pocket. 

“Fuck Y/n, please can you calm down with your sugar intake, I don’t want you to die or get rotten teeth.” He threw the lollypop into the bin, just missing Mineta who had bent over to sharpen his pencil. “I want you to be healthy.”

“I am healthy, I just love it so much.” 

He gave a glare turning to face you properly, you put your head to side watching his cold red eyes warm at your features. “Just find something else to help you instead, you can't live off sweet things forever.”

“You find me something else and then I'll give it up.” You muttered, popping a hard candy in your mouth just as Aizawa walked in. 

Bakugo thought for a while, throughout the whole day event, thinking of foods he knew you liked. Of course having a sweet tooth wasn't a bad thing but you needed a balance to not have type 2 diabetes when you grow old. He continued to think until he found the basic things on google as replacements, by the end of the day, he had sought out what was needed and called you into the kitchen. 

“Fruit.” He pushed the bananas and apples into your arms, you gave a confused look taking an apple and biting into it. “I read it’s good or whatever.”

“You read?” You mock.

He glares back at you, “shut up, idiot.” He grabs your hand with the bitten apple and stuffs it back into your face. “Eat it all.”

He seemed content with what he had done, pushing the 3 apples and 2 bananas onto you, not even letting you get a word in. He goes to put some bread in the toaster, hungry after a long day and keeping an eye on your fruits, watching as you just stared at it as if it was some unknown thing. 

“Oi Bakugo, help move this.” Kirishima shouts from the common area.

Bakugo gives a scowl before staring at you, “eat.” You mutter profanity before taking another bite, watching as the man leaves for Kirishima. The sound of the toaster finally letting the toast out, even the smell of toast almost became intoxicating, how could you not refuse.

Going over to the two toasts you butter them and that's when it starts, toasting more as you went through the two toast with such ease. It seemed like hours since Bakugo left and with that you had already eaten 5 toasts going onto the sixth. 

“What the fuck?” Bakugo stares at the toast in your hand and the missing six slices, staring between you and the toaster. You take another bite, and he continues to give such a blank look, “fruit?”

“Toast?” You question back taking another bite, Bakugo comes up to you grabbing one of the fruits after you'd eaten all the bread and gives a glare. “I like bread now. 

“Of course you do baby.” He mutters ruffling your head as you continue to chew on the toast happily. He might hate how you’d gotten onto another food craving but at least you had variety and weren't going to die of a heart attack from it all. “You really are an idiot.”

“Shut up, want some?” You spoke like a child with only one bite left he opened his mouth, watching as you put the buttered toast in his mouth, your fingers graving against his lips as he was to just lick the butter off your fingers, a satisfied face that he had finally gotten to you.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[gxccistyless]

Fine Line: The Divorce Series - Part three.

Here is the last part of fine line - the divorce series.  You can read part one here and part two here

I would LOVE to write some one shots based on Harry and Eliza. Feel free to send in requests!! 

That night after he left Eliza’s  Harry went home and sits in his shower for 45 minutes, he thought about going to the pub and then he thought about going to the liquor store to get a bottle of bourbon to drink it in its entirety all in an attempt to try and forget about the fact that he had just kissed Eliza. Harry decides against it, he calls his sponsor instead, his sponsor came to lend an ear and help him get through the night, without liquor. He and his sponsor had become close, he could trust his sponsor to be there for him without feeling the need to worry about his personal struggles with alcohol being leaked to the press.

Two weeks later he found himself at a social gathering at his sponsors house, a family garden party of sorts, alcohol free of course, and that’s where he first met  Olivia Dane. He and Olivia seemed to have an instant connection, no awkward spots in their conversations, no awkward silences where he felt the need to fill time with rambling. Conversation flowed freely. He left that night not having a single drop of alcohol, and with her number in his phone. One week later they were out to dinner ams six weeks after that had her on his arm down the red carpet. 

Eliza and Harry never discussed the kiss. For him it was something he was able to freely move passed, for her it was so much more. The kiss lingered on her mind for weeks and weeks she had so many unanswered questions, questions she knew she might never have answers to. The two had reverted back to old ways, going through third parties to organise Harry spending time with Koa and Lennon. Eliza didn’t love the idea of not having any contact with Harry, especially because they had just started going to therapy and she was really hoping that this would be the turning point in their co-parenting attempt. She was happy that their children had their father back though, every child deserves happy and healthy parents was her fundamental belief. That’s truly all she has ever wanted for Harry, for him to be happy and healthy. With Harry out of the picture for her, she spent more time getting closer to her now partner Andrew. She never spoke a word of the kiss. 

harrystyles . MINE .  LIked by jefezoff, oliviadane and 12,573,399 others.  The post took Eliza by surprise. She saw it on a Sunday morning as she was lazing in bed. She wanted to be happy for him, she wanted him to love and to be loved, but she still wanted him to love her. It was selfish of her, and she was aware of this. Selfish because she has and still was seeing someone else, so why shouldn’t he be able to do the same. But that kiss still lingered in the back of her mind.

She would come to find out some hours later that at some point during the day Harry had unfollowed her on all social media platforms. This hurt her more than it should have, Andrew copping the brunt of her anger, leading them to a huge argument where he had accused her of still being in love with Harry. I can’t be in this relationship with you Eliza, this isn’t healthy. You still love him and that’s okay, but let’s be honest here you can’t love him and still have me. He was right. They ended things that night.  Harry was thinking about introducing Olivia to his kids. It had been on his mind for a while, probably from the second week he had known her. Him co-parenting with Eliza made it harder for him to see Olivia on weekends. He had just gotten into such a good schedule with having the kids again he didn’t want to cancel visits, but he also didn’t want to lay in bed alone at night when they were asleep. Olivia didn’t fancy children very much, her opinion of children didn’t change just because they were linked to the man she was sleeping with. Harry waited three months before he organised a brunch date where she would meet the children. 

Anne had gone to Elizas to pick up the children just as she had been all this time. Koa had fallen ill and Eliza had almost canceled their visit but she had caught wind that the kids would be meeting Olivia and decided against canceling, but packing everything from his prescription medication to his favourite lovey just to be safe, writing out a note giving perfectly clear descriptions about the contents of the bag and their uses.  Olivia rolled her eyes and complained about said bag and note she seems so dramatic over a damn cold were her exact words. Harry didn’t say anything in return letting her comment slide. It was moments like this that he would come to later regret, letting things slide was in his opinion the way people got into bad behaviours, but he loved her and didn’t want to royally fuck this day up over a comment before it had even really started.  He seemed to think that the brunch went well, Olivia on the other hand was less than enthused. Koa had spilt his yoghurt, Lennon her orange juice, children were crying and there was snot everywhere. Despite her distaste for the children of the man she loved, she smiled through it. But really all she could think about was ways to get Harry to herself next weekend, child (and snot) free. She somehow managed it and the following weekend, an hour before Harry was scheduled to have the kids, he canceled. Something about a surprise weekend in Paris that had been sprung on him at the last minute was the reasoning Eliza had gotten off of Anne. 

oliviadane you had me at bonjour ❤️ Liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 5,452 others.

Harry’s visits with the children had become few and far between by late September. Fallon’s anniversary was fast approaching and Eliza was not coping. Anne, who had stayed in contact with her and loved her like a second daughter picked up on it. Eliza was out of sorts, and rightfully so. She had a lot on her plate between the twins and mentally trying to process the upcoming date. Harry on the other hand was off in a different country every week. Brushing off the responsibilities of parenthood had yet again come so easy to him, Eliza wasn’t surprised at this point. Old habits die hard. Anne had let her concerns about Eliza known to Gemma who went to visit to see for herself. Eliza was a mess, Anne had not been lying. Gemma gave Harry and absolute ear bashing on the phone, told him how much of a disappointment he was to her and their mother, how his kids would resent him some day, how he should be ashamed of himself. Gemmas words must have hit a nerve, or at least talked some sense into him. The following week Harry had done a complete 180 again and the visits with the children, much to Olivia’s dismay, were back on schedule. 

It started with small incidents at first. Koa coming home crying, Lennon expressing her disinterest in going to her fathers house for weekend visits. The weekend before Fallon’s anniversary was the last straw. Koa was screaming and crying as Anne’s car pulled away from Eliza’s house. Eliza could hear his blood curdling shrieks from down the road as she stood frozen in her driveway watching her babies drive away. She hated sending them to him when they were in such a state but she couldn’t figure out what the sudden change had been, they had always loved spending time with their dad until suddenly the didn’t. 

Harry came home from the studio at around lunchtime. His mum had brought the kids some hours earlier and Olivia had been with them for the few hours that they had been there. Harry did not expect to come home to two screaming, crying, hyperventilating children. How long have they been crying? Olivia rolled her eyes and told him they hadn’t shut up since they had gotten there, adding in that they had given her a splitting headache and she was very happy he was home because now they were his problem. Harry knew in that moment that he would have to break up with her. Her small comments about his children and the mother of his children needed to stop, he thought that once she got used to the idea of having the kids around and spending more time with them to get to know them a little better that the comments would stop, but they didn’t. He couldn’t change her, her hatred for children was so deep seeded there was no flipping this situation. He thought that perhaps they could spend one last night together and that he would break it off in the morning once the children had left, but then he noticed the bruises on the children’s arms. When he asked Lennon what had happened she simply pointed to Olivia and that was enough to send him into a fit. Olivia had her bags packed and was out of the house by nightfall. 

Elizas doorbell rang at approximately 7.45pm. She found Harry on her doorstep childless. She panicked thinking something had happened to the twins at first and he must have seen it in her face because he just about jumped at the chance to tell her that his mother was watching them. This had been the first time since the kiss that the two had seen each other.  She pulls the door open more than it had been and lets him stroll through. She makes him a coffee whilst she makes herself a tea and then he tells her everything. She wants to press charges, to hunt this lady down and give her a bruising. Harry tells her that the children need her to be with them at home and not in a jail cell, she decides for once that Harry may have the better judgement here and settles down with Harry promising to never bring her, or any other woman, around their kids every again.  The following weekend, the family of four had an afternoon picnic at Fallon’s grave. It was nothing special, Eliza and Harry both cried the whole time, holding each other extra tight. It had been a rough year for the both of them, they had come so far yet here they found themselves back where they belonged the most... in each other’s arms, surrounded by all their children. With Olivia gone, Koa and Lennon relaxed and seemed to be once again enjoying their time with Harry. Truth be told, she had been enjoying time with Harry too. He became a regular for breakfasts at Eliza’s, and then when the kids were at kindy he became a regular for lunch, and then dinner and then a regular in her bed. This has been over the course of a few months, Eliza made boundaries very early on and part of her stipulations were that they needed to have weekly therapy and not put too much pressure on themselves. In true Harry and Eliza style, the two didn’t take things too slow.

Harry and Eliza remarried in a causal courthouse ceremony in late January, his mum and Gemma were their witnesses. They went to a swanky restaurant to celebrate with the most expensive Sunday roast dinner Harry has ever had in his life. Harry surprised the public with the news, they had somehow managed to keep the rekindling of their relationship under wraps and the media and fans lost their minds in unison. The pair were a hot topic for days.

harrystyles Eliza Ray Styles, I am so lucky that you agreed to marry me twice in one lifetime. I don’t deserve you, but I will love you until the day I die. Love you, wife.  Liked by elizastyles, annetwist and 32,763,278 others.  A few weeks later, it was their turn to be surprised with news that they were once again expecting. Both Harry and Eliza were secretly relieved to only see one baby on the screen at the first appointment. Eliza decided to keep this pregnancy to herself, Harry had no tours and no press junkets and no radio interviews and the pair were both able to fully enjoy the pregnancy. Eliza went into labour in the early out of October 3rd, what would have been Fallon’s 6th birthday, and gave birth and home in the water just six hours later. They once again found themselves trending for days after the announcement of the birth of their son. 

elizastyles for the last nine months, we have been holding the news of this little blessing very close to our hearts. One month ago, Jairus Cohen Styles arrived three weeks early, happy and healthy, and shares a birthday with his Angel sister Fallon Noel. Our family is complete. We are both tired and in love ❤️ Liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 7,625,618 others. 

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Word count: 1781

Warnings: Gore. Mentions blood. 

Title: ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Summary: You got on a pharmacy run and things turn south. 

(Gif not mine credit to owner) 

🦈-It had been three months since things went to hell.

🦈-You had been one of the lucky Omegas that took suppressants to block their heats and scent. You had just filled your prescription that week so you had a whole three months covered.

🦈-You had hidden in an abandoned gas station. It was one meant for truckers so you had access to running showers which you were reluctant to enjoy because the water pounded heavily against the tiles.

🦈-You only settled there because they had metal shutters that would come down. It was secure and you felt safe there. As safe as one could get in a zombie apocalypse.

🦈-You stayed low and didn’t draw any attention to yourself. The gas station was located on a high way leading out of the city so you didn’t hear many survivors passing through.

🦈-The yells and screams you did hear kept you awake at night. You knew being an Omega was dangerous in regular society but now that Omegas were few and far between Alphas had lost any sense of control.

🦈-You would rather die being torn apart by zombies than have a feral Alpha catch you.

🦈-You only had one week of suppressants left before you ran out. You knew both the dead and alive would come for you if you didn’t find more soon. That was why you were on the roof of an old supermarket.

🦈-You wanted to scope out the place before you went in.

🦈-You stayed up there for a while and didn’t hear the telltale signs of the dead occupying it. You didn’t hear the knocking over of cans or the crunch of glass they unsteadily walked on.

🦈-The sun was still up high so you thought it was time to finally enter the decrepit supermarket. You would like to get back to your home before the sun started dipping. You would have liked to go through the back since pharmacies were always located in the back but the door was chained up.

🦈-So you looked down the empty street for both the dead and living before sneaking in the entrance. You noticed the shelves were almost bare. A few cans of still lingered but you didn’t dwell on them.

🦈-You were here for the only thing you really needed to survive. A full belly was nice but you would rather have you scent masked then snag a few cans. You walked through the aisles jumping at every creak of the building.

🦈-You arrived at the pharmacy, it was just as trashed as the rest of the building. Paper bags that were once white now soiled in dirt and blood scattered the floor. You were careful to avoid them, not wanting to make any unnecessary sounds.

🦈-The drawers had straightforward labels. Antibiotics, allergy medicine, fever medication, and so on. You paused when you came across suppressants. You shakily opened it, hoping with all your heart that it wasn’t empty.

🦈-Your eyes sparkled when your eyes gazed at a decent pile of monthly packs. At least a year worth. Your Omega jumped in joy. Although she was upset that pups weren’t on the list anytime soon she enjoyed living just as much.

🦈-You stuffed all of the suppressants in your backpack before throwing in anything else you thought might have been useful.

🦈-You were too focused on the abundance of medicine that you didn’t notice unsteady footsteps creeping your way. It was only when you heard a moan so close nearby did you look up, to zombies had followed you to the back.

🦈-You were quick to hide behind the shelves, they were sniffing the air. You might not have been out much but you noticed a pattern. If you were more than a fifteen feet in away from them they would pick up your Omega scent even with the suppressants.

🦈-Farther away they still showed interest but didn’t pursue you as hard.

🦈-These ones must have been walking by and smelled you straight away. You were glad it was only two of them and not a whole hoard. The cities were known for their big crowds.

🦈-You grabbed an empty medkit and threw it on the other side of the room. They were quick to snap their head in that direction and pursue the noise. You slowly maneuvered around the paper bags again before silently dashing away.

🦈-They much have just came from a fresh kill. The floors were slick with blood from their footsteps. You didn’t notice until your slipped and hit your head on one of the shelves, cans crashed all around you.

🦈-You were a little disoriented, ringing in your ears made you unsteady and the pain in your head made you dizzy. Without your permission, your Omega sent out a chirp.

🦈-Any Alpha within a mile would have heard. You didn’t know if the zombies were sensitive to them too. They certainly were obsessive over your smell. You tried to get back up to run out but you crumpled over right away.

🦈-It was pointless to hold in your whimpers at that point. You got your suppressants but they cost your life. You pictured yourself bleeding out on the dirty floor as you felt the dead pair steadily walking your way for their next meal.

🦈-You felt another presence from the opposite side of the aisle. You thought it was just another zombie ready to sink their teeth into you but a loud growl rumbled through them.

🦈-It wasn’t like the growls you heard from the dead on a regular basis. No, it was a familiar one from the old world. One that said to back off from someone’s mate. You lifted your eyes and caught a blurry red-haired figure.

🦈-He carried a bat with him and hung it over his bulky shoulder. You could make out the faint outlines of nails pounded into it. You didn’t doubt that it was deadly in this strong Alphas hands.

🦈-He ran down the aisle and jumped over your slumped figure. His bat came down on the nearest zombie head. He was quick to bring his bat down on the other, with a heaving chest and blood dripping down his bat he turned your way.

🦈-Your vision had cleared up a bit the feral scowl on his face made you whimper. He was one of them, an Alpha with only one thing on his mind.  In an instant, his face softened and he took a step back. He didn’t drop the bat but he lifted his hands up to show he wasn’t to be feared.

🦈-“Are you okay? Did I get here in time, Omega?” His eyes scanned your body, besides the trickle of blood on your head you seemed fine.

🦈-His Alpha calmed at the thought. He was just going on a food run when he heard a chirp. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him but the hairs on his neck were evidence enough.

🦈-“I’m fine. They didn’t get to me.” You mumbled, holding your backpack strap tighter.  

🦈-“I’m glad.” He breathed, he didn’t let his guard down yet. His hero trained ears picked up on heavy footsteps coming from the entrance no doubt a big group was making their way over.

🦈-“We have to go.” He urged, eyes trying to look over the shelves to see how many to expect. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

🦈-You nodded and tried to stand up, your legs weren't cooperating, you wobbled as you stood. Kirishima didn’t think anything of it as he leaned down and tossed you over his wide shoulder.

🦈-You wanted to protest but knew this wasn’t the right time. You lifted your head to cover your backs. The dead were just entering the aisle. Kirishima wasted no time dashing into the back where you came from.

🦈-He was heading towards the back door.

🦈-“The door is chained shut. There is no way we are getting out that way.” You rushed, looking over at the metal door.

🦈-“Watch me.” He growled, running towards the door at neck-breaking speed.  

🦈-A cry got stuck in your throat, this was gonna hurt.

🦈-Only it didn’t, the Alpha hardened his fist and punched the door straight off, chains went crashing to the ground in a loud clang. Your Omega took this time to purr at the strong Alpha.

🦈-Not the time Omega.

🦈-Kirishima warmed at the sound but he pushed forward. He needed to get you to safety. He spotted a metal fire escape and took the chance. He used his leg power to launch himself up and grab at one of the bars.

🦈-You had already taken to hugging him like a koala and wrapped your legs around his thick waist. Your arms looped around his neck. He climbed up the ladder no problem and got you to the roof safely.

🦈-The building seemed to be an apartment complex so he didn’t want to crawl through the windows and meeting the old tenants. He stood on the roof and waited for you to detach yourself from him.

🦈-You were reluctant to leave his safe embrace but you slowly climbed down from him.

🦈-“Thank you, Alpha.” You sent him a small smile, noticing the way he stood up straighter when you called his title.

🦈-“It’s no problem. I am glad you are safe. I’m Kirishima.” He smiled, showcasing his sharp teeth before offering a rough hand for you to shake.

🦈-Your small one felt even smaller in his huge hand.

🦈-“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Kirishima.” You replied, shuffling on your feet. You didn’t know what to do now. It seems you would be stuck on the roof for a while if the groans below had anything to say about it.

🦈-“Do you like canned chili? I just picked up a load of them.” He tore off his backpack and unzipped it. His Alpha was all too eager to provide for the Omega. He hadn’t seen one in so long and this one was so beautiful and smelled like a summer day by the ocean.

🦈-“I could eat, a near death experience really eats away the calories.” You joked, taking the offered can.

🦈-“I am feeling pretty hungry myself.” He grinned, cracking open his own can before pulling out two plastic spoons.

🦈-So you sat on the roof of an abandoned apartment complex eating spoonfuls of cold chili. The food might have been cold but the atmosphere was warm and comforting. 

🦈-You felt safe with this Alpha and you didn’t think you would be leaving his side anytime soon.

Again with the zombie AU. I hope you liked it. I love this shark boy.❤️🦈

Please reblog my work it really motivates me to write more. Leave a note as well if you want to see more from me.

[honey-dewey]

The Rapunzel Effect

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect)/Reader

Word Count: 2,048

Warnings: None, one use of (F/N) (L/N)

Upon losing his arm, Ezra is left stranded, almost entirely unable to care for himself without making some kind of mess. That’s where you step in. As his prospecting partner turned somewhat nurse turned Cee’s other new parent, it’s your job to keep poor Ezra functional and marginally happy as he adjusts to his life. 

Living with Ezra was hard. 

You’d known him for a while, on and off as distant friends do. You two would take a prospecting job together, work side by side for a bit, and then go your separate ways until you managed to team up for another job. 

And then he got stuck on the Green. 

You could still remember his face when you’d left him. The mutiny that your coworkers had staged, them dragging you away from him, the expression of betrayal and terror as he realized what was happening. 

You quit prospecting after that. It was too dangerous, especially on moons like the Green. For almost two years, you built a life for yourself on a nearby habitable planet, looking up and seeing the Green every so often, wondering if Ezra was up there or if he’d given in yet. 

Honestly, you should’ve expected he’d come back. He was a stubborn bastard, of course he’d come back. 

You got a call one night, stumbling out of bed and answering it. 

“Hello?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning. 

“Is this (F/N) (L/N)?” The person on the other end asked. 

“Yeah?” 

The person took a breath. “You are listed as Ezra 4053’s emergency contact, is that correct?” 

“Who?” You asked, genuinely confused for a minute before you remembered Ezra had no surname. He had been a state ward, meaning he had a number in place of a family name. “Oh! Yeah, I am.” 

“We recently took Ezra into our care, and he now needs a responsible guardian for the duration of his recovery.” 

The shock hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d expected them to say they found his body, not that he was alive and in their care. “Oh. Okay. Um, that’s,” 

“Unexpected?” The person said, voice tipping with amusement. “He was brought in last week, along with a young girl. If you’ll consider it, she’s highly attached to him.” 

Immediately, you nodded. “Of course. I’ve got room for her too.” 

“Perfect.” The person said. “You can visit them whenever you want, and we’ll send them out to your care come the weekend.” 

“Thank you,” you mumbled absently, putting the phone down and sighing. This was going to be an adventure. 

And it was. 

Seven months later, Cee was recovered well enough. She’d begun to attend virtual school, slowly growing out of the shell she’d forced herself into. She had nightmares, of course, but she was handling them as best she could. She went to therapy, talked her problems over, and took the prescriptions she’d been given. 

Ezra was a whole different story. 

On the surface, he seemed okay. He did what he had been told by doctors as well, rubbing a numbing disinfectant on his wounds and sleeping with the help of a machine that regulated his oxygen, trying to reverse some of the damage done to his lungs. 

But below the physical, he was at war with himself. That long on the Green without pleasant company did things to the mind. Ezra was jumpy, more so than you’d remembered. Every little noise was a threat to him, turning his face pale and his hand sweaty. He had night terrors, he saw things, his entire body would hurt like crazy, and worst of all, he couldn’t care for himself anymore. 

“Ez!” You shouted through the house. “Ez! C’mon, breakfast time!” 

Ezra stumbled out of his room, clearly having just woken up. “Huh?” 

“Breakfast,” you repeated, sliding a plate with scrambled eggs and a few bites of sausage his way. 

He sighed, sitting down and fumbling with his fork. He had been right handed, but now he didn’t have that arm. It was clearly still a struggle for him. He still couldn’t really write, or eat without dropping food, or properly care for his hygiene. 

“Cee’s going out today,” you said, putting the breakfast dishes in the sink to do later. “We’ve got the house to ourselves.” 

Ezra hummed, focusing on his fork. It was shaky, but he hadn’t spilled anything yet. “Sounds good.” 

You sighed, but left him alone to eat. 

Twenty minutes later, Cee left, waving at the both of you and smiling to her friends, who were just outside. 

“She’s doing well,” you mumbled, crossing out a mistake in your most recent work assignment. “I’m glad she’s making friends.” 

Ezra was silent, slowly stabbing the last bite of eggs on his plate. You watched with interest as he ate the bite, looking down at his plate in slight shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done. 

He stood, picking his plate up and putting it in the sink. You followed him, grabbing a paper towel and smiling. “Ez,” you said, holding the paper towel up. “You’ve got egg in your beard.” 

Ezra smiled, allowing you to wipe egg off his face. “Now darlin’,” he drawled smoothly. “How’s about we have some fun, you and me?” 

You laughed. “Ezra,” you murmured, running a hand through his tangled and overly long hair. “Why don’t you go shower, then we can talk about having some fun.” 

Ezra left to go bathe, and while he did, you did the dishes. Once they were all done and you’d heard the water shut off in the bathroom, you grabbed a new towel and knocked on the bathroom door. “Ez? I have a towel.” 

“Come in.” 

You pushed the door open, grinning when you saw Ezra’s left hand poking out from behind the shower curtain. “Thank you kindly. I’ll be out soon.” 

You nodded, promising Ezra you’d be waiting for him. 

Of course, he fumbled after a few minutes. 

As soon as the clattering and the string of loud curses hit you, you were up and running, shoving the door open and seeing a very frustrated Ezra staring at his hand, which had a small cut across the thumb. 

“Oh Ez,” you mumbled, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing some disinfectant and a bandage. “It’s okay Ez.” 

Ezra whined, his eyes filling with tears as you methodically cared for his wound. 

“Do you need anything else?” You asked, putting away the disinfectant once you were done. 

Ezra turned his big brown eyes on you, pleading without words. “I can’t.” He stopped himself, choking on tears. “I can’t.” 

You slowly picked the abandoned razor out of the sink, shaking water off it and holding it out. “You can. You just need help.” 

He sighed, looking at you and choking on a whimper. “Help.” 

“Yeah.” You carefully turned him around, so he was facing the mirror. “Help.” 

It was a slow going process, helping Ezra shave. He held the razor in his shaking hand, you holding the hand and keeping him steady enough to shave. 

Eventually, you had the Ezra you remembered standing in front of you, with his patchy facial hair and visible smile. 

You grinned. “Hello handsome.” 

Ezra poked his tongue out at you, setting the razor down and hesitantly picking up a pair of scissors. “My hair too?” 

“Aw,” you pouted, taking the scissors from him. “But I like this whole reverse rapunzel thing you got going on,” you said, tugging on the natural blond streak in Ezra’s hair. 

He laughed, taking your hand that didn’t have the scissors. “I know, but it’s a damn pain.” 

You nodded, picking up a comb. “Alright. Sit.” 

Ezra sat down, wrapping his arm around your waist as you combed through his damp hair and began to take chunks off. You warned him that your hack job wasn’t going to look good, and he simply responded with the fact that he didn’t care. 

The end product wasn’t bad, in all fairness. It wasn’t great, but Ezra’s hair was back to its old length, which satisfied both of you. 

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his hand as he tried to walk away from you. “Y’know you can ask me for help, right? I’m not gonna say no.” 

Ezra’s eyes darkened. “I don’t wanna be a bother.” 

You shook your head, pulling him close and hugging him tight under the artificial lights of the bathroom. “Oh Ez. Ezra, darling. You could never be a bother. Not to me, not to Cee, not to anyone who loves you. You hear me? We’re here to help you, my love.” 

Ezra loosened in your arms, sighing out a huge breath. “You’re amazing, little dove. Y’know that?” 

You smiled, pressing a kiss into Ezra’s hand. “I know. So’re you.” 

You both ended up on the couch, mindlessly cuddling. Ezra stroked through your hair, slowly putting you to sleep. 

“Can you tell me a story?” He finally asked, causing you to look up at him. 

“What?” 

“A story,” he repeated. “Can you tell me one?” 

You nodded, laying your head back on his chest. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful prince named Ezra.” 

Ezra snorted beneath you, but didn’t say anything. 

“The prince was born with magical powers, the power to heal the injured. This power stemmed from his beautiful brown hair.” As you spoke, you reached up to scratch through Ezra’s hair, causing him to smile. “But others were jealous of the prince, namely an evil witch who kidnapped baby Ezra and locked him away in a tower. The tower-“ 

“Babe,” Ezra interrupted. “You’re just retelling rapunzel with me as the princess.” 

“And?” You asked, shimmying upwards so you could kiss Ezra’s nose. “You wanted a story.” 

Ezra chuckled. “I did. You may proceed.” 

You smiled, shifting so you could continue. “Anyway, the tower was covered wall to wall in plants, so many plants that little prince Ezra soon started to call him prison the green. And one day, little prince Ezra wasn’t so little anymore. In fact, he was an adult, begging the witch to let him go, to let him see the world. When she refused, prince Ezra cut a lock of his very special hair, causing it to go white and lose its power. For that, the witch vowed to never let Ezra leave. Ever.” 

“Isn’t there supposed to be a prince or princess who comes to save prince Ezra?” Ezra interrupted yet again. 

“Ez!” You groaned playfully. “Stop interrupting! I’m getting there.” 

Ezra shrugged, but stayed silent so you could continue. 

“But, what prince Ezra didn’t know was that a young royal from the neighboring kingdom had been spying on the witch and prince Ezra for a while, and the royal was deeply in love with the prince.” 

Ezra sighed, smiling and letting his eyes fall shut. 

“This royal would risk it all for prince Ezra, and they did! One day, when the witch left, the royal stood at the base of the tower and called out to the prince. ‘Ezra, Ezra, let down your hair!’ And the prince did. He fell in love with the royal, and they spent many days together while the witch was away. But one day, many months into the secret relationship, the witch caught them. When she saw the royal, she freaked out, yelling and screaming. She tossed the royal out the tower window, and they landed in a bed of thorns at the base of the tower. Ezra, in his despair, jumped out after his beloved.” 

You smiled, tracing shapes in Ezra’s shirt, feeling your own eyes grow heavy. “Ezra, horribly injured, cradled the dead body of his lover, surrounded by the thorn plants. Consumed by his grief, he grabbed the dagger off the royal’s belt and shore all his hair off. ‘If this is what life is,’ he declared. ‘Then I wish to live no longer.’ However, at the last second, before the dagger could strike his body, his beloved awoke, healed by the prince’s tears. They rode off into the sunset together, and while the mighty prince Ezra lost an arm that day, he gained something of higher value. A lover for all eternity.” 

You yawned, cuddling up to Ezra’s chest and closing your eyes. “The end.” 

When Cee came home hours later, she found the pair of you laying on the couch together, tangled in a messy pile of limbs and blankets. Upon further inspection, she realized you were both asleep. 

“Those two,” she muttered to herself happily, tossing another blanket overtop you and heading off to do her schoolwork.

[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning 

Word Count: 11,754

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2

**

Before work you go grocery shopping and run some errands. You clean up a lot and wonder how the hell John’s personality will fit in your tiny apartment. He doesn’t say much but he can be so intense. You can’t imagine the two of you together, alone, in this tiny space. 

In the bathroom you hesitate as you pick up your prescription. The doctor thought it would take the edge off your anxiety, and make the depression manageable. She also made sure you were seeing someone for therapy.  For now, the pill once a day does work. You can breathe. You can function. You’d be a fool to think all of your problems would disappear overnight. You still have a long road of recovery ahead, but this makes it less overwhelming. You place the little plastic container in the medicine cabinet, somewhere John won’t see it. You wouldn’t put it past him if he snooped, but in a way you're proud that you were able to talk about your problems and get some help. 

At work Sam is with you and currently making fun of your limp after you tell him why there’s a bruise on your foot. He’s asking if you want him to go buy you a cane when John waltzes in, hair slicked back and suit jacket blowing from the wind. How someone can look like a model in a gas station you’ll never know. He stares until you go to him and ask what the hell he’s doing here.

“Getting gas.” He answers and reaches for his wallet.

You don’t say anything and ring him up, glancing outside to his car parked in spot one. 

Sam is watching you two interact and he has the biggest grin on his face. Is that your boyfriend? He mouths behind John’s back and you cough in shock. No, and yeah right, like you could ever get a guy like John in a million years. 

“Hello!” Sam says loudly and teasingly bumps your hip with his behind the counter. 

John raises an eyebrow and glances to you first, then nods to Sam. “Hi.”

“John, this is Sam my co-worker and Sam, this is John my um… friend?”

True surprise flickers in John’s brown eyes and he looks pleased, a slow small smile spreads on his lips. 

“She’s actually my boss, but nice to meet you.” Sam says and his attention is drawn to the classic car outside and the gushing begins. 

You let the two of them talk until you hear John offer to show him the engine and they both move to go outside. “Hey, I’ll see you later?” 

Sam smirks and you nod at John, wondering how he knows where you live. It’s a little weird that he broke into your place just to fix a leaking faucet and he was in your apartment without you even knowing.  In the back of your mind, you think that it’s actually pretty thoughtful. You mindlessly wonder why he would waste his time though. Why he would do any of the things that he did. He said that he would help anyone in the same situation as you, but you’ve been thinking about that question since the day at the lake, and you’re too scared to ask him. You’re scared to see the look on his face, the look of pity because that’s all you can think that he’ll say. 

You hear John’s car peel away and Sam comes back inside, still grinning like an idiot. 

“What?” You ask, not really wanting to know.

“Nothing.” Sam hops up on the counter and he knows he’s not supposed to sit there. “I think he likes you.”

“And what makes you say that.” You deadpan, pushing at his butt with the tip of your pen.

Sam slides down and knocks over a display of gum. “He told me to look out for you.”

“Oh yeah? I can see you’d be very threatening.” You point to the packs of gum all over the floor. 

He bends down and starts to pick up the mess. “What’d you need looking out for anyway?”

“Nothing, he's just being protective I guess.”

Sam looks at you with concern. “From what?”

“Nothing. I promise, okay?”

For the rest of the night Sam shows you his karate moves and chops up air until closing time. 

**

John is folded up in the corner of your couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his black leather shoe tapping your coffee table. He’s reading one of the old magazines you have laying around. 

“How was work?” He asks, folding the magazine shut, like this is the most normal thing in the world. 

You check the locks on your door to see if they’re broken, but they’re not. You turn the handle again to make sure the door is shut all the way. 

“I should probably give you a key if you’re going to let yourself in.” 

John shrugs. “If you want.” 

Tossing your purse on the kitchen table you make your way to the living room and sit on the chair across from the couch. John looks so out of place, but you can tell he’s trying to blend in, make himself belong in your little apartment. 

“Who’s taking care of your dog while you’re here?” You ask, kicking your feet up. 

“Pooch? The little girl next door. She loves him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually named him Pooch. I don’t even think that’s an actual word, I think my grandma made it up.”

John shrugs again you can tell he’s definitely not a man to waste any words. “It stuck. It’s... cute.”

“Cute? I can’t see you thinking anything is cute.” You grin and stand up to take your jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable. You can hear him mutter something under his breath, but can’t catch it.  “So do we know if Max is officially out yet?” 

“No, I’m waiting for the call though. I’ll know as soon as it happens.”

You don’t have any doubt.  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” You open the refrigerator for some juice. ”I usually have a snack when I get home. Feel free to take anything you want.” 

John tries to settle back on the couch but he seems stiff. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You can take off your tie and your jacket at least. You’ll probably be here for awhile.” You call out to him, your head sticking in the cupboard looking for the popcorn you put in there earlier. 

John doesn’t move and you gesture for him to get up as you crawl back in your chair with a bag of food. 

“You sure about that?”

“Yes of course I’m sure. Why would I not be sure?” You look at him like he’s crazy as he slowly stands and oh… that’s why.

The suit jacket comes off and he carefully lays it over the side table. His slender waist is circled with a large utility belt with three guns, two clips, and probably a knife. The sight makes your eyes widen. He stares at you as he slowly unfastens the buckle and gently places it on top of his jacket. 

“Don’t go near that.” He points sternly and sits back down, this time more comfortable. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the couch next to him. 

“Definitely not. Are you planning on using any of that?”

“Scare tactic.” 

Silence fills the room as you crunch on your popcorn and you’re actually feeling pretty tired. You’d like to go to bed, but you’re not sure what John’s plans are exactly. 

“So how is this going to happen?” You ask.  “Are you going to come to work with me too? Are you going to run my errands with me? I mean, I’d love the company but I don’t see you wandering around Target for an hour.”

“I don’t mind going to Target with you.” His voice is so serious you can’t help but smile. “I don’t think he’ll come around during the day though. He wants you alone. Scared. Vulnerable. And I have my cop friend keeping an eye on you at work. It’s on his beat anyway.”

“Okay.” That all sounds reasonable. Dread and doubt suddenly take hold of you. “Look, maybe I’m wrong? Maybe he won’t bother with me and we can just forget about it? Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all.”

John shakes his head. “I read his record. It’s not good.”

Well, crap. You don’t want to talk about Max anymore and you don’t want to ask the one question that’s been hounding your mind. You’re still too scared to know the reason John is here, so you ask something else. “Are you ever going to sleep? You can’t stay up all night waiting.”

“I’ll sleep until I know he’s out.” John says easily. “Then after that I have motion detection alerts on my phone from the camera outside your floor.”

You blink at him. “There are cameras on the door of the elevator?”

“There are now.”

“How’d that happen?” You’ve never noticed any security cameras anywhere. 

“I talked to Francis, the apartment manager. He’s a nice guy.”

You blink at him again. “I know, but he only speaks Russian. How’d you talk to him?”

John smirks and says, “Bez truda.” 

It’s all a little too much and you get up, shaking your head in disbelief. “How is this my life right now? How do I get myself into these things? I have an assassin in my apartment… I’m going to take a shower!” You announce after a minor anxiety attack. “Feel free to turn on the TV, get comfortable, whatever you want.”

The water feels good as you scrub away the day. It relaxes you until swarming thoughts of John sitting on your couch make you hurry out of the tub and wrap yourself in the flannel bathrobe you always wear. Before you lose your nerve you walk back into the living room and find John where you left him, now looking at his phone. 

“They’re just starting to process paperwork. That means it’ll be a few hours.” John’s talking, but doesn’t look up. You start to brush your wet hair out and twist it loosely on top of your head for the night. Usually you’d smear face cream all over but that obviously is not going to happen. 

“Look, John. I know we hardly know each other, but you can sleep in the bed, okay?” You start to turn off the kitchen lights and check the front door one more time to make sure it’s locked. “It’s plenty big enough and I would just feel better.”

He’s looking at you with warm eyes now, his mouth open but nothing is coming out. It’s like his brain turned a switch and decided something important. Whatever he’s thinking must be big because his whole demeanor changes. You can’t quite figure it out, but he seems content to be here with you, where just a few moments ago he had a guard up and was struggling with something on his mind. Somehow and unknowingly, you sense that you’ve just started to break down his wall.  You have no idea what you did, you’re just being yourself, but for the first time John is vulnerable. He’s blinking slowly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light, or finally giving himself permission to really see you.

It doesn’t matter though, because you know you look like a complete dork in your bathrobe and suddenly you feel incredibly stupid. Shame floods your stomach and you almost feel sick. Of course, this man wouldn’t want to be in the same bed as you. He’d probably rather die. You can’t believe you even suggested it. Also, your therapist would be terribly disappointed in you for talking down to yourself like this. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

He stands up and grabs a small leather bag you hadn’t seen by the widow. “Yes. If it’ll make you feel safer.” 

No. No. That’s not how you wanted it to happen. You wanted John to want to sleep in the bed, not because you asked him. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’ll take the couch, okay? You probably don’t want to share the bed with me, I totally understand. And you’re doing me a favor and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Utter confusion crosses his handsome face. He scratches at his beard with long fingers, trying to make sense of what you want. “What good would that do? With you sleeping on the couch?”

You stammer and can feel a flush develop on your cheeks. “I just thought… I don’t know.”

“If you rather, I can book you a room in a hotel for a few nights. I won’t… do anything to you. I can promise you that.”

Oh God. This conversation could not get any worse. You’re horrified that he thinks something like that and you try terribly to explain. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go to a hotel. I just meant that um, you probably don’t want to share a bed with someone like me.” 

“Someone like you?”

The flush is creeping up to your neck as you become more embarrassed. You point at your bathrobe and general dorkiness. “Yeah, like someone… not… exactly… uh… cute?”

He seems to realize what you’re trying to say and laughs a little. “Well it’s a good thing there’s no one not cute in this apartment. I don’t know how I could ever sleep.” He walks towards you and gently tucks the hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ears. It’s very intimate and you feel yourself start to smile. “Can we go to bed now?” He moves his arm out for you to lead the way and you feel silly. John is a nice guy. Even if he really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, he probably still would because it’s what you wanted. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumble and walk into the bedroom with him following. There’s not much clutter and it’s pretty bare besides the newly bought self help books on the nightstand and regular girly stuff littered on the dresser. John throws his bag on the floor and you grab some pajamas for yourself, heading to the bathroom to change. 

When you come back John is wearing a white t-shirt and soft blue sleep pants. He’s incredibly adorable and you can’t believe your luck of having him in your room right now. He must’ve grabbed his phone and weapons because they’re both on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

He looks you up and down in your tank top and shorts as you plop on the mattress, quickly getting under the covers. 

“This okay?” He asks and points to his own clothes. Was he expecting for you to want him to sleep in his suit?

“Yeah of course. But...  can you fight in pajamas?” You wrinkle your nose and tease him. “That’s not very assassin-y.”

He barks out a laugh and lays down, but he doesn’t get under the sheets. His feet are bare and long, and you keep peeking at his toes.  “I think it’ll be fine.”

You roll over and face him. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. 

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

He doesn’t move. “Why?”

Your eyes start to become heavy and you watch his chest move up and down in slow rhythmic breaths. “People don’t usually do nice things for me. I’m used to being on my own.”

With that he shifts on his side, towards you.  His hair falls in his eyes and you long to brush it away. “I can tell.”

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You never asked me for anything.” John points out. There’s plenty of space between the both of you and flop your arm towards his side, pointing at him teasingly.

“Oh, I distinctly remember asking you to do one very specific thing and you failed.”

He squirms from the quick stabs of your pointer finger at his ribs. “I don’t know, I think things turned out pretty perfect.”

You scoff and roll to your stomach now, sliding your arms under the pillow. “Perfect? Yeah right, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

“It is perfect. This bed is very comfortable.” John finally gets under the blankets and you giggle sleepily. His cologne is stirred by his movement and you savor the spicy smell. 

“It’s new. I got a raise at work. I’m an assistant manager now.” You tell him proudly, even though you know it’s not that big of an accomplishment.

“Oh excuse me, Miss Assistant Manager.” John smiles and acts extremely impressed. “Congratulations, by the way. I should take you out to celebrate.”

You have no idea if he’s serious or not so you just laugh and snuggle down more into the bed. After a minute you ask, “Do you think Max will come tonight?”

John pauses, thinking. “Hard to say. He doesn’t have a good past. He has friends in high places who will probably help him. How’d you meet a guy like that anyway?”

“How is that you know my name, where I live, my phone number, where I work, what car I drive… literally everything about me and you don’t know that?”

John brushes the hair from his eyes and you can see the tan line around his ring finger has started to finally fade. “That’s just part of the job.”

“Fixing leaking water faucets is part of being an assassin?” You ask, teasing again.

A sweet pink flush spreads on John’s cheeks. “Shush.” 

“That’s what I thought.”

He pretends to glare. “Maybe it is. You don’t know.” 

“You’re right, I don’t know.” You yawn and let your eyes fall close. “Can I tell you tomorrow though? I’m gonna pass out.”

You hear the click of the side lamp turn off and you want to stay awake, to soak in this moment a little more but sleep is overpowering and you drift off into a peaceful rest. 

**

Until about two o’clock in the morning, and then you start to toss and turn. You swear there’s a noise out in the living room but you also know you’re probably being paranoid. You can see the shape of John’s body just a few inches away and you want to reach over to him. 

“Hey.” He whispers and his voice startles you still. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You sit up a little and look towards your bedroom door. There’s a stream of light from the street lamps coming in through the window, but other than that it’s dark. “I thought I heard something.”

“It was just the air kicking on. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel John’s palm rest on your arm and squeeze. “Positive.”

“Is he out? Did you get a text or anything?”

“Hey, don’t worry about anything, okay? I promise you’re safe.”

You fall back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

You're wide awake and this whole situation is baffling. John Wick is in your bed, squeezing your arm and comforting you. 

“Isn’t being an assassin illegal?” You blurt out, the darkness giving you courage, and you instantly regret asking the question because he pulls away.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He says quietly. “Trust me, I tried to retire and I got sucked back in somehow. People seem to want only me for really hard jobs.”

“Couldn’t you get arrested or something if you got caught? Could I get in trouble with you being here?” 

“No. Sometimes cops need bad guys to go away too. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I just don’t always get myself into the best situations. I feel really safe with you, I just…” You don’t meet an assassin everyday. You have no idea what it really means. 

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

He laughs softly and his fingers brush the back of your arm now. “Nothing you ever ask will offend me. It’s actually quite refreshing. I just hope…”

You wait for him to finish, but he seems to be gathering his thoughts and you don’t want to rush him. 

“I hope you can think of me as a friend before an assassin. And I hope that I don’t scare you.”

“I don’t scare easily.” You mumble and yawn, glancing back to your bedroom door. You ignore the friend comment because you feel like you’ve already been through hell and back. You don’t know if you could consider John as a friend and then lose him someday. It might break you all over again. But then you think of how far you’ve come. “I could probably take Max. I could get him to leave me alone now that I have my mind straight.”

“You think so?” John is sincere and you can hear he’s happy at your mental growth. 

“Yeah maybe. As long as he’s clean and not hopped up on something. Then it might be harder.”

“I guess we’ll see.” John checks his phone and puts it down again after looking briefly at it. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shifts to his side, with his back to you. 

It’s a strong, solid back with his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his t-shirt. You stare until your eyes feel heavy again. You feel safe.

**

The next time you wake up the sun is blaring from the window and John is gone. His leather bag is still by the bed though, but his suit jacket and all of his guns are gone too. 

You start to go about your business, not believing John would leave you alone if you were in any kind of danger. It’s almost creepy how your phone alerts a few seconds later with a text, like he knows that you’re up. 

No need to worry. I know where he is. I’ll see you later tonight. Let me know if anything happens.

You text back sounds good and John tells you to have a nice day.

It just so happens that you have the next two days off from work and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your foot still hurts from the baseball bat incident so you zone out in front of the TV for a while, trying to forget all of your problems. That doesn’t really work so the next best thing is to venture through the kitchen. You have snacks but not much else. Maybe it would be nice if you could fix John a nice dinner or something, for hanging out with you and like, protecting you from a shitty ex boyfriend. 

Some nice meat might do the trick. A nice steak with a potato and veggies. One thing grandma did that was awesome? Was to teach you how to cook. Wanting to actually cook was a different story for the last few years, the thought making you ill when you were practically a walking zombie, but now the thought excites you. It’s also different to cook for someone than just yourself because it’s usually not worth all the hassle.

Quickly, you get dressed and head out to the nearby grocery store. It's quiet and you take your time walking down the aisles with your cart, wondering what sorts of things John likes to eat. He probably stays healthy but a part of you thinks that he might have a sweet tooth. You grab everything you need, including some pie for dessert and head back home to get started.

There’s a ton of food so you text John to come over hungry and don’t eat any dinner. 

He doesn’t reply back immediately and your stomach starts to sink. What if this is too much? Is this weird? It’s just dinner, right? Friends have dinner together. John has to eat sometime. 

He eventually texts back a simple okay and you take it for what it is. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and since you’ve never really cooked in this kitchen before, if it turns out terrible you can always order pizza. 

It doesn’t turn out terrible, in your opinion, and you’re actually impressed with yourself. There’s a knock on the door right when you're finishing setting the table and John scolds you for not asking who it was before opening the door. He’s still in the middle of his speech when he gets a whiff of steak and sees that the table is set nicely. 

“What’s all this?” He asks, smoothing down his expensive silk tie. 

You pull out a chair for him to sit down. “It’s just a little thank you.”

He doesn’t look happy with that answer.

“It’s me making my friend dinner… randomly?” You try again. 

He laughs and nods, accepting that instead and removes his suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “Do you mind if I…” He points to his waist and waits for you to nod before unclipping the belt, putting it in the bedroom for the night. 

“Wine? Beer?” You ask, debating which you want. 

“Usually I would, but…”

You understand that he’s working, even though he’d hate it if you said it aloud, and put them both away. “How about some ice tea?”

“Sure.” John sits and folds a napkin in his lap. He’s watching you and when you bring over a plate full of food there’s an unmistaken gasp. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You sit down too and pass him the salt and pepper. “I forgot how much fun it is to cook. I haven’t made anything since grandma was sick and I stopped eating. But today it was like she was in the kitchen with me.” You stop and close your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was weird to say.”

“Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reminds you hesitantly, but with a small smile. 

Heat warms your cheeks and you have to chuckle in agreement. “True. I feel like that was so long ago though. I’m like a different person now. You must’ve thought I was crazy.” You don’t say that you’re grateful you accidentally gave your phone number to a police informant.  That it was John who showed up that day. That it wasn’t some crook who could’ve used a few hundred dollars. 

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” John takes a big bite of steak and moans a little. “This is really good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”

“You don’t cook much?” You ask, waiting for him to make another noise of pleasure. 

“I hate cooking for just myself.” He says, but otherwise he is disappointingly quiet. 

You take a bite of vegetables and nod in agreement, trying to hide your swelling of excitement. Well, that’s that. He is single. No big deal, you tell yourself to calm the hell down in your head. It doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like anything would ever happen. “So, you didn’t think I was crazy? What did you think?”

John puts down his fork and looks at you, his chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “I thought you looked really tired. That you needed help and had nowhere else to turn.”

You gently rub a finger under your eye, where you know there used to be darkened circles. Now your eyes are bright and alive. You blush at his observation. 

“What’d you think when you saw me?” He asks, interested again in his steak but keeping an attentive ear to everything you say.

You don’t know why, but you feel a surge of confidence. “I thought I was talking to the most attractive hitman in all of New York and that there was no way I could afford your... business.” 

John raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Really?”

Shrugging, you take another bite of food and swallow. “I don’t know what I was really thinking, honestly. It was not my best day. I just wanted to get the conversation over with. I wasn’t in the right mindset.” 

“But therapy is going well?” 

You’re not surprised that he knew about that, but it does make you pause that he actually asked. “Definitely. It’s going very well. And she’s a fan of you, by the way.”

“Me?” 

“Don’t worry, she thinks you're an undercover cop.” 

John leans over his plate, trying to get closer to you. “What exactly do you say about me?”

“That’s personal!”

“Fine.” He leans back now in his chair and crosses his arms, fake disappointment in a pout on his lips. “Then I won’t tell you about what I found out today.”

You glare at him. “Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Or extortion.” He shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes and sigh.  “I told her about all of the nice stuff you did for me, even though it was creepy, and how you probably saved my life.”

He blinks at that, obviously not expecting you to be so forward. “Oh. And what did she say?”

“She said to be careful about you breaking into my place and stealing my car… but that it sounded like I made a really good friend.”

John is suddenly silent and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Just… just a friend?”

Your stomach does a little flip and you’re not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m pretty sure all I can have is friends right now.” You tell him slowly, trying to get all of your words exactly right. “I need to find my worth, be happy with myself… before I can do that for someone else, you know?”

John nods and his eyes are sad for a brief second but when he looks up at you, he’s proud. “I think that’s great. And I’m happy to help remind you that you’re pretty awesome.”

“Reminders are nice.” You tell him with a small smile. “Especially considering they come from a bad ass assassin.”

John chuckles and finishes his steak. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt. He looks a little tired and you wonder what he did all day.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, right. Max. He seems to be doing well. He’s living with his mom across town and he was spotted going into an AA meeting.”

You’re stunned. In a good way. “Really? He was always such a heavy drinker. That’s where I met him. At the bar across the street from the hospital. When visiting hours were over and I didn’t have to work, I’d go there a lot. And well, I guess he spotted a weak one.” You think back to those days when he was nice to you at first, which quickly changed into becoming manipulative and controlling. The final straw was when he said that you couldn’t visit your grandmother anymore. You lost it and he raised a hand at you, several times. You never want to be that weak. Ever again.  “Well that’s good news, right?”

“Yeah.” John rubs at his beard. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t relapse.”

You stand up and start to clear the dishes from the table. “So you don’t have to stay the night, probably.”

“No, I’ll stay at least one more night. Just to be safe.”

You give him a disapproving look. You really hate to waste his time.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here. One more night and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That’s not at all what you meant by giving him a look so you just shake your head. “It’s nice to have the company. I just don’t think my apartment is where you want to spend your nights.”

“And where exactly do you think I spend my nights?”

The sink is full of soap and John stands to clear the rest of the plates and cups. “I picture this really fancy nightclub or rave with techno music and neon lights and beautiful women dancing around you.”

John hands over a plate and looks at you like you’re nuts. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh, like that’s never happened.” You deadpan.

“Well, I can’t say never... “ John leans against the counter and offers to help you. 

“No, I got it but thank you. And also, I knew it. I just don’t see you like… dancing to techno music.” You make a face and stick out your tongue a little. You hate techno.

John laughs. “I don’t go there to dance. If I’m at a club or something it’s usually for work.”

“Ah, I see.” You move to get the dish rag to dry the silverware. “So, where do all the beautiful women throw themselves at you?”

He’s not really paying attention when he answers and he’s looking at something on the ground. “Well lately it’s been at a lake and a local gas station. Is that a bruise?” John bends down and slowly traces the swirls of black and blue colors on top of your foot. The touch stings a little but you hold still. 

“Oh uh... “ God, how stupid. You didn’t think it was that noticeable. “Yeah.”

“Your whole foot is swollen.” His eyes are huge when he stands up and looks at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He growls out and you push past him, considerably embarrassed and turned on all at once. 

“I did it to myself, okay? It’s not a big deal.” 

“You’re limping.” He exasperates, but he gently puts an arm around your waist and helps guide you to sit down. You put your foot on the coffee table and it does look worse than it did yesterday, puffy and colorful. 

You grimince and don’t want to tell him. “It was just a silly accident. Sam at work already made fun of me, so let’s just forget it.”

John disappears to the kitchen and you can hear ice being gathered. He comes back and sits on the coffee table, slowly moving your foot to his lap and putting a towel full of ice by your toes, where the worst of the purples are blooming. 

“You really don’t have to do that. It’s not that bad. I was just on my feet all day and I didn’t think about it. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

His fingers are so gentle around your ankle and you can’t help but to stare at his big hand surrounding your delicate bones. “Hey.” John taps on your skin until you look up at him. “You’re worth being taken care of, okay?”

Well, he got you there damnit. “Oh, that’s a good one.” You’re impressed and you let him hold your foot, sitting back to relax. Your therapist would be really pleased that you let someone help you.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to sit here all night?”

You briefly tell him how you got the bruise and his fingers stop tracing over your skin long enough for him to laugh. Loudly.

“It’s not that funny.” You scowl at him.

“It’s really funny.” He’s snickering now and you swear there’s a tear at his eye. He moves to wipe it away and mumbles something like, “you are the cutest... “ and then clears his throat and straightens up. “You’ll have to show me your moves.”

“Uh, no, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for tonight, thank you.”

John rubs at your ankle again, squeezing around your leg lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mean to the patient.”

“Exactly right.” You agree and smirk when you think of payback. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Without hesitation John takes off the towel and presses his lips to your cold skin. All you can do is stare at his beard and then at the teal nail polish on your toes. You’re speechless.

“It didn’t seem to work.” John says, disappointment in his voice. “I guess I’ll have to work on my technique.” 

He says that last part suggestively and you sit up in the chair, ready to change the subject. “I got dessert. You like pie, right?”

“Do I like pie? What kind of question is that?”

“Can you get it?” You smile sweetly at him. “It’s on the counter.”

He gives you a knowing look but lifts your foot to get up. You can see his reflection in the window as he moves around in your kitchen and you watch him in disbelief. You realize you’ve never had anyone in your apartment. Not even grandma, she was already too sick when you got it. Max always made you go to his place. John comes back with one plate and two forks, a big slice for both of you to share. 

“This is the best anyone has ever paid me to do a job.” He jokes and you smile back, taking a fork and scooping a bite for yourself. 

You point to an envelope on your desk. “Speaking of getting paid… I know it’s not much, but I did promise you--”

“I was kidding.” John cuts you off. His face is instantly annoyed and hurt. 

“John, please.” Your foot is still propped up on the coffee table and you can’t really move. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“Well, take it back.” He says and you put your hands up in defense, silently telling him not to be mad. “And you just lost pie privileges.” 

“What?”

He stands up and walks over to the couch, as far away from you as possible. “Yeah that’s right. I’m eating all of this myself.”

You huff and struggle to sit up. “That is a radical punishment.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” He takes another big bite, making a show of it. 

“That’s it.” You get up and hobble over to him, practically falling into his side and he lets out a grunt when you accidentally lean into his ribs. You decide to just lay where you are for now, you can’t move if you wanted to. “John, seriously. Pie please.”

He shakes his head with amusement and feeds you a small piece. You take it happily and let your head rest on his shoulder while he finishes and feeds you some more until it’s gone. Both of you are quiet. This is the closest you’ve ever been and you just want to feel his warmth. You know eventually you have to move so you peer up at him and smile. “You have blueberry on your lip.” You tell him, reaching to smudge it off with your thumb. At the same time he licks at it and you both laugh.

“C’mon, cripple. I’m helping you to bed.” He tells you, putting the plate and fork down on the coffee table. You use his thigh to get yourself up and he steadies your waist as you balance on one foot. You’re standing between his legs and he’s looking up at you with the sweetest eyes. 

“Thank you for dinner.” His voice is sincere and determined to get his appreciation across. 

You put your hands on his shoulders and lean some of your weight on him. “John… thank you. Thank you for everything.” And with that you let yourself drop down and you hug him hard. He pulls you close and rubs his hands over your back. His hair brushes your cheek and you breathe in deeply, his scent rushing to your head in the most pleasant high.

Awkwardly, you push yourself away and he grabs at your hands. “You want me to carry you to bed?”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs, letting you wobble towards your bedroom while he takes care of the dishes and turns out all the lights. 

When he’s satisfied everything is in the right place, he walks into your bedroom and stands in the doorway, watching you while you sit on the bed and tie your hair up over your head for the night.

“What?” 

John breaks his stare and walks around to the other side of the bed. “Nothing.” 

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to the set up you have on your dresser. You tend to fall asleep to sitcoms rather than complete silence with thoughts running through your mind at full speed. 

“Actually do you mind if I take a shower?” He asks. “I did a lot of running around.”

Your mouth goes dry and you try to get it together before he notices. “Did you get all sweaty tracking Max today?” You guess, smiling when he looks impressed that you got it right. “See, I could totally be an assassin!” Your smile fades when he points to your foot. “Okay, well I could be an assassin’s secretary. I could like, get all the payments and make appointments and travel arrangements and get your guns cleaned and all that stuff!”

He walks around to his bag and gathers a pair of clean sleep clothes. “And take care of all the dead bodies too?”

You gulp. That’s so disturbing. “Yep. And I could take you to the doctor if you get hurt real bad.” You think back to the bruised knuckles and the dried cut on his face.

He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “That does sound helpful.” 

“Really?”

“Yes and also dangerous. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You stand from the bed to get him a towel. “Um, just to let you know, I’ve seen all the assassin movies.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert.”

Opening your closet, you pull out the softest towel you own. “That sounds very sarcastic.” You push it to John's stomach and he grabs it from you, but you don’t let go and tug it back gently. “I’ll have you know I’m a very quick study, Mr. Wick.”

John briefly closes his eyes and takes a step closer to you. He leans in to whisper, his mouth close to your ear, “You better get off that foot.”

A giggle escapes and you sit down on the bed. “If I didn’t have a bruised foot... then could I be your secretary?”

He walks into the bathroom, and right when he closes the door he stops to tell you no.

Frowning, you crawl back to your pillows. You notice John forgot his pajamas on the bed and you’re about to get up and give them to him, but you decide not to. This should be interesting. 

You’re watching TV innocently when the bathroom door cracks open ten minutes later. Steam is hovering around John’s form and you hide your smile.

“Um… I forgot my…” He points to the clothes on the bed and you point to your foot. 

“I would help you, but I’m a cripple.” You tell him, now smiling because you can’t hide it anymore. You’re trying not to laugh. 

He glares at you when the door opens and you see the towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I swear I won’t look.” You tell him, covering your eyes. 

“Are we twelve now?” He mocks, stepping out and picking up his clothes. 

Your smile fades when you look at him because damn. “No, we are definitely not twelve.” You murmur to yourself, and you don’t mean to gock, but he’s fresh out of the shower, glistening skin and tight muscles, toned and strong. He pushes his hair from his face and notices you watching him. 

There’s a smug grin when he turns around and your heart completely skips a beat. All you see are flashes of tattoos, black lines and shading on his back. Maybe on his arms too but it was so fast. If you could only make time stand still. 

Now you’re glaring when he comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later. He’s glancing at you very casually. “What?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He laughs and gets under the covers. “What? Forget my clothes?”

“No. Showing off all of your…” You gesture to his body. “Never mind.” You can’t believe this is happening and turn towards the TV, trying to forget the hotness laying beside you. Nope. You can’t. “John, why are you doing this?”

He sits up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping me?” There. You finally asked it. Here comes the pity party.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, confused. When you don’t say anything, he asks another question. “Would you help me if I needed it?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course I would.”

“Well,” he lays back down and looks blankly at the TV. “There’s your answer.”

“But you hardly know me.”

He briefly glances at you. “Does it matter? I would want to help anyone. What are we watching?”

You laugh at how simple it was all this time. You should really stop overthinking everything. “Do you want to watch Friends or Seinfeld?”

“Who and what?” He asks, not knowing at all your favorite shows. 

You caress his cheek and pet him softly. “You poor, innocent man. I have a lot to teach you about laughing.”

He shoves your hand away playfully. “I watch TV… sometimes.”

“When you’re not doing assassin-y stuff.”

John sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, when I’m not working.”

“Mmhm.” You don’t really believe him. You figure he reads a lot or studies, or does something really smart. Never really does anything just for fun. “We should totally go to a movie tomorrow!” You say it jokingly, like he would ever agree to something so mindless, but you can hardly believe it when he nods and says okay. “Really? You would go to a movie?”

“Isn’t that what friends do together, right?”

You wouldn’t have any idea. You don’t have friends and you haven’t been to the movies in ages. You hate going by yourself and you never had enough money.

“I think so?” You respond, not really knowing.

He lets out a little yawn. “All of my friends are… well, you know. I don’t see any of them going to a movie.”

“But you would?”

“With you? Yes. You’re not in the business, clearly.”

You throw a pillow at him,  but he quickly catches it and puts it behind his head. You mumble to yourself of course and turn off the light. “Just for that, I get to pick.”

He groans and you laugh as you tuck yourself in under the covers. You feel excited for tomorrow. Your therapist was right, you did make a good friend. Even if both of you have no idea what exactly that means. 

**

You’re still in bed when John is getting coffee from the kitchen, looking at your phone for movie times. “Don’t worry, I will not make you sit through a chick flick… or a disney movie… or a musical.” 

“Do you take cream and sugar?” John asks, popping his head into the bedroom. You nod yes to both and he disappears again.

“Oh! There’s a new sci-fi movie out. You like aliens, right? It looks scary too.” 

John comes back into the room with two steaming hot cups. He hands one to you carefully and you take a slow sip. “Mmm. This is really good, thank you.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gets back into your bed, sitting with his legs crossed under him. His hair is messed up a little and he’s still in his pajamas. The sight is really cute. You’re kind of sad that it was the last night he’s here. You quickly got used to him in your apartment and having someone to come home to was so nice. He already mastered your crappy coffee machine and he does the dishes. But the sleepovers are done and you wish it had lasted a little longer, purely for selfish reasons. 

You must be staring at him for too long because he stops drinking his coffee and gives you a small smile. “What?”

Dunking your head, you’re embarrassed that he caught you. “Nothing.”

He grins, like he can read your mind but doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “What time’s the movie?” 

“Let’s see…” You tap at your phone, scrolling through the options. “How about this afternoon? Then we could get something to eat or whatever.”

Now he’s really smiling and now he really does call you out. “Wouldn’t this be like… a date? Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“What!” You shriek and put your coffee down on the nightstand, stretching your leg over to try and push him off the bed, but he doesn’t move an inch and just laughs at you. “Oh. My. God.  Absolutely not, you weirdo. Why can’t two people just hang out? Jerry and Elaine do it all the time!” You point to the TV in your defense, trying to remind him of the show you watched last night. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” John puts his coffee down too and grabs your foot to inspect the bruise. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, still not being able to fathom John Wick flirting with you. It’s probably all a joke to him anyway so you continue to ignore it. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

He slides your pant leg up and takes a closer look. “Well, it’s not as dark as it was yesterday. Still a little swollen.”

“Told you it would be fine.”

“You’re welcome.” He cracks a smile and you remember the kiss he placed there last night. “Do you need anything else to feel better?”

“Ugh, gross.” Rolling your eyes even harder. “Your flirting is terrible.” 

He grabs at his heart like it hurts. “I take offense to that.”

“Good, that was the point.” You get up from the bed and open the closet, searching for something to wear today. “It’s probably the one thing you’re not good at.”

“I could be good at it.” He says, sipping his coffee again. “I’m just rusty. I need to practise.”

You don’t turn around. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats slowly, and then horrified, “Wait.. I’m not skeezy am I?”

That makes you laugh and you sit back down on the bed. “No, John. You’re not skeezy. You’re like the opposite of skeezy. You’re too nice to be skeezy.”

“I’m too nice?”

“Yeah.” You get up again and fiddle with your hair that’s fallen in your face. “I know you say these things just to be nice to me. I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s sweet though, it’s fun. I get it.”

Slowly, he shakes his head, trying to comprehend your thoughts. “So, you’re saying I could never be serious about flirting with you?”

“Ha, not in this lifetime.” You gather your bathrobe and head for a shower. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how far out of your league I am.”

Now John is the one rolling his eyes. You don’t give him a chance to say anything though and close the door to the bathroom, finally able to catch your breath a little. He still makes you nervous, you realize, and you hope the feeling fades the more time you spend with him because it seems like he needs a friend just as much as you do.

**

You’re brushing your teeth when John taps a knuckle on the door.

“Do you mind if we stop at my place before the movie?”

“You don’t want to wear a suit all day?”

“Not really.” He smiles. “And I have to pick up the dog.”

“Oh right!” You spit into the sink and wash your mouth. “I want some puppy kisses.”

John looks at your lips and then to your eyes. It’s fast, but you still see it. And if you didn’t he mutters, “tease” and leaves to go out the front door.

You grab your purse on the way out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door behind you. He has his bag with him and you’re disappointed it’s not still in your apartment. You wonder if he’s wearing all of his guns and try to sneak a peek under his suit jacket at his waist. You’re not paying attention so you run smack into his back when he stops for the elevator. 

Yep, he’s wearing one gun because you feel it hit your stomach. He looks at you oddly and reaches a hand out to steady you.

“Do you always carry a gun when you go places?”

“Usually.”

“Do you ever have to use it?”

“Sometimes.”

The elevator ride down is quiet and you wave to Francis walking by in the hallway. John nods towards him too, like they have some sort of secret understanding. 

His car is glistening in the sun and you have to admit, it is a pretty sweet ride. John opens the door for you after he throws his bag in the trunk and you move carefully, afraid you might scratch the paint job. You fold yourself neatly in the seat and stay still. 

He smoothly gets in and before you can process about how annoyingly attractive he is, the engine roars to life and he’s speeding out of your complex onto the main road. You have a hard time not watching his hands because his fingers are long and look good around the steering wheel. He drives fast but not enough to make you nervous and glances at you a few times to make sure you’re okay. You don’t say much but it’s a comfortable silence with the windows down. You watch the town go by as you start to relax. 

It’s only about a ten minute drive until the car pulls up to the most gorgeous house you’ve ever seen. Of course, this is where John would live. In a house built with huge windows and high ceilings, with a big open yard that’s perfectly manicured. 

He parks in the driveway but still pushes a button so the garage door goes up. 

“C’mon, I’ll only be a minute.” He tells you and curiosity gets the best of you because you had planned to stay in the car. 

“Are you sure? I can wait here.”

“Why?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, obvious that he thinks your question was dumb, and he moves around to open your door again. 

“Such a gentleman.” You praise, not being able to help yourself. You can’t remember the last time anyone opened anything for you.

He smiles and leads the way into the house. “Well, I try.”

“This is really pretty.” You tell him, stepping into a long hallway where you can see the living room off to one side and the kitchen off to the other. 

“You want the tour?” He asks, throwing his keys into a glass bowl and taking his suit jacket off. There are actually two guns on his belt, the one on his right hip you hadn’t seen. 

“No, it’s okay. Just seeing the downstairs is enough to make me depressed about my small apartment.”

John scoffs and opens the front door to let in some air. “I like your place. It’s comfortable there. And the cooking’s really good.”

You laugh and he steers you more into the kitchen, which is huge with a tile floor and what looks like all new appliances. “I’d love to cook in this kitchen. There’s so much room!”

“Yeah?” He stops and looks at you very seriously. “You officially have an open invitation to cook here any time.”

“Ha ha.” You push at his shoulder and walk to the big wood dining table, looking around. There are a bunch of picture frames, but they’re all in a pile on a shelf by the coffee maker. You wonder what kind of pictures he has and why they aren’t on display. You don’t want to be nosy though, so you run your finger over the espresso machine that looks like it cost more than a month of pay. “Marry me?” You bend over and ask it, breathing in deeply the scents of coffee. 

John laughs and points at a smaller hallway. “Laundry is through there.” He points at a door. “Basement.” He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, which is sparse but still lovely. You wonder if he decorated this place himself or if he had help. 

“Evening entertainment.” He points to the TV even though you see a stack of heavy books on the coffee table, some of them well read. “Upstairs?” He asks, starting for the staircase. You shrug, trying not to seem eager and interested. 

The amount of sunlight the house gets is incredible. There are windows everywhere, but you can’t see any neighbors and it’s fairly quiet. This is like your dream house. 

“Wow.” It’s all you can say when you enter the master bedroom. A huge bed in the middle that looks so very soft. There’s a sitting couch and table, with a bureau next to the walk in closet. The view is fantastic and you can even see the lake from here. You walk to the other side of his bedroom and almost press your face against the glass. “You live right across from the community college campus! That’s so cool!” 

John is in his closet, probably getting new clothes for the day, but you can hear him say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You could walk there if you wanted to! Save a ton on parking.” You mutter, more to yourself. 

Suddenly he’s right behind you, now in a white cotton shirt with long sleeves. “What do you mean?”

“I applied to go to school in the fall. I want to take some classes, maybe try for a degree or something. My place is far, so it’ll be a hassle but that’s okay.” You tug on the hem of his shirt as you walk by him, throwing your purse on the bed. “What else is up here?” You ask, peering down another long hallway.

He has a proud look in his eyes and he’s still gapping at you a little. “I didn’t know you’re going back to school.”

“Oh, something you finally didn’t know, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I saw the application on your kitchen table but I didn’t want to assume.”

You laugh because of course he did. “Were you snooping, John Wick?”

“Never. I just observe.”

“Oh, I see.”

He opens the door to an empty bedroom with no furniture. “This was supposed to be a guest room but I never got around to it.”

“What about that room?” You point to the door at the end of the hallway. 

“My office.”

“Ooh. Do you have assassin secrets in there?” You smile teasingly and walk back to his bedroom to get your purse. 

“No, those are in the basement.”

Laughing, you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You don’t think he is. 

The windows are calling again and you can’t help but to take one more look of the view. “This is just so nice. You have everything in walking distance. The lake, the school…”

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You should move in here.”

That makes you throw your head back and really laugh. How funny. “John, don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?” He asks, his tone is serious but kind. “There’s an empty room. You can walk to school. You can watch the dog for me when I go on… work trips. You would have a kitchen to cook in.”

This man seems to keep surprising you. “You’ve only known me for like a month. What if I smell bad or something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You smell amazing.”

“What if I play loud music really late at night?”

“You can’t keep your eyes open past ten.”

“What if I have parties all weekend long?”

“While you work and go to school? Be my guest.”

“What if I’m messy and leave my clothes everywhere?”

John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did you just pretend to be neat while I was at your place for two days?”

He’s right, you do like a clean house. “Whatever, John.” Hoping that he drops it. “Don’t you have to get the dog?”

“Damn, stay here. I’ll be right back. Their house is just down the street.” He runs down the stairs and you can hear the screen door open and shut. 

You look around the bedroom again and take it all in. What a completely different life this would be. Not that you don’t like your apartment. It’s cozy and you’re proud of what you’ve established for yourself. This is too fancy for you anyway. Plus, you like having your space. John would be the weirdest roommate ever. You can’t even imagine. 

You jog down the stairs to wait on the couch. You spot some more picture frames stacked nicely in a pile and you’re just about to sneak a look when you can hear them approach the house.

“Puppy kisses!” You cry out and kneel down to gather a happy dog in your arms. If you had any idea this was the dog driving you mad all those nights, you would have taken him for yourself. 

“Pooch! Get down.” John’s Alpha voice is hot and both you and the dog stop everything. 

He trots over to his doggy bed anyways and plops down. “Cassey, the little girl, wore him out at the park this morning.” John says. “Are you ready to go?”

The movie! You had almost forgotten with all the excitement of being in John’s house.

“Yeah, let’s do it. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Don’t get scared.” You tell him, in a bravado voice. 

“Can we get gummy bears?” He asks and you crack up on the way back to the garage. 

“You’re a grown man, you can get whatever you want.”

John hurries to open the car door for you again. “I meant, would you have any or would you like something else?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a big decision.” You slide back into the car and think to yourself that you could really get used to the chivalry John is showing. You wonder how long it could last. “I think I have to see all my options.”

John smiles as he starts the car and lowers the garage door. “This is really serious.”

You fasten your seatbelt and get comfortable. “When’s the last time you went to a movie?”

He turns his head to back out of the driveway, putting his arm around your seat. His face is very close to yours and you notice that his eyes are a very pretty brown when he’s not working. 

“Good point.”

You grin, breaking the eye contact because it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies that you mentally quiet down. 

The theater is busy and you realize it’s a Friday during summer, so all the teenagers are here. John’s phone rings as he parks and tells you he has to take it, so you decide to get in line and buy the tickets. He’s leaning against his car, chatting while looking around at his surroundings and smiles at you when he catches you checking on him. 

You quickly see that the movie is sold out and not knowing what to do, you walk back to John and the car just as he’s finishing his conversation. It sounds like he was speaking in Russian, but you can’t be sure. “All set?” He asks, sliding the phone in his pocket and reaching to put his hand on your back. He hardly ever really touches you, but his hand hovers over your body constantly. 

“It’s sold out.” You tell him. “Do you want to see something else or maybe come back another day?”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. “But you really wanted to see that movie.”

“It’s okay, shit happens, right?” You shrug it off easily. This is not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, you’re hanging out with John, so you could be going to the town dump and you’d be happy.

“Hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He takes off towards the theater and leaves you by the car. You watch him go and it’s almost like he’s in slow motion again. You wonder how just his stride oozes that much confidence. 

In a few minutes he’s back with two tickets. “Here we go. C’mon.”

“How’d you do that?” You dumbly follow him to the theater doors and he guides you to walk in front of him.

“It’s a secret. What do you want?”

You’re still staring at him in a silent awe as he looks at the refreshment stand. A beautiful young worker comes to help and John’s gaze is just on you.

“Um… gummy bears? Right?” You ask him, trying to snap out of it. “That’s what you wanted?”

He leans in close, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m asking what you want.”

You don’t really remember what the hell you say, but somehow John pays and leads you down a long hallway and to your seats. Now he’s really close to you and the smell of his cologne is making your legs weak. 

“You okay?”

“Yes!” It comes out too fast but you realize you’re acting weird and need to get with it. 

John nods and crosses his long legs, sitting back in the chair and shifting towards you, whispering as advertisements play on the big screen. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do friends hold hands at the movies?”

You close your eyes. “No, John. They do not.”

“Not even when I scored tickets that were sold out?”

You lean in to him and smile. “If you tell me how you did that, I might reconsider the answer to your question.”

“Hmm…” He runs fingers over his beard as he thinks. “I talked to the manager.”

“And?”

“And I paid him.”

“John!”

“What? You wanted to know, so I told you.”

You shake your head in disbelief as the lights lower and the movie starts. “You’re crazy.”

He doesn’t disagree with you, but he does turn towards the screen, still touching your elbow throughout most of the first half of the movie. When it gets really creepy, he covers his mouth every time you jump in your seat, hiding his smile. 

You somehow get closer to his shoulder, shielding your eyes and turning into his body when you jump again, grabbing onto his arm. The muscles you feel are solid, and you technically knew they were there, you just never really considered them before. And you are definitely considering them now. 

John lets you hold on to him, and even offers to hold your hand when the movie winds down and you link his pinky with yours, not wanting to totally turn him down. He seems satisfied with that and smoothes his thumb down your hand a few times before the credits roll.

“That was so good!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and stretching. “I forgot how fun the movies are!”

“You were scared.” John teases, playfully shaking your hand with his. 

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Whatever, you were scared too.” You tell him, pushing the heavy doors open and heading to his car. The sky is darker now and the wind has picked up, chilling your arms. You wish you had brought a sweater.

“I was definitely not scared.” John laughs, his hand hovering over your back again. You feel it because you stop for a car and his arm is suddenly pressed into your waist. He moves quickly though, opening the door for you to get inside. 

He turns on the heat as soon as he can and asks where you want to eat. 

“It’s up to you. I could go for anything.”

“Sushi?”

That surprises you and you can’t help but look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know John Wick likes sushi. I see you more of an all meat kinda guy.”

“I have a very sophisticated pallet.”

“Oh, my mistake.” You laugh and tell him to lead the way. 

He takes you to a really nice place and you talk about the movie and the food all throughout dinner. It’s nice, not forced, and fun. These past two days, even with the weird circumstances, have been really fun. You want to pay for the dinner, but of course John beats you to it without you even realizing until it’s far too late. You glare at him and tell him that friends usually split the check. He apologizes with a sparkle in his eye and you know he’s not sorry at all.

When John pulls up to your apartment you thank him for such a great day. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to be scared?” He asks, after telling you he had fun today too.

“Yes, John.”

“I could spend the night again, just to make sure.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to Pooch.”

“You could spend the night at my place.” John offers, completely innocent but realizes what he says and adds, “I could take the couch, of course.”

“Good bye, John.” You tell him and he wants you to let him know if you need anything, or if you hear from Max. “I will.” Waving, you open the car door before he can get out and do it for you. The walk up to your apartment is quiet and just a little lonely. 

Once you get inside it’s worse, but you try to ignore it. Instead, you lay in bed where John had slept and cuddle the pillows. 

He texts you once he’s home, to make sure you made it to the apartment okay.

You didn’t let me walk you upstairs, he texts with a sad face.

Instead of telling him that you’re a grown up or you don’t need his protection, you simply text back next time. 

You really hope there’s a next time.

TBC Chapter 3