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andvys · 8 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 16

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, mentions of drugs and alcohol, a painful flashback, mean!Steve

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: As you get closer and closer to your birthday, you are taken back to a painful day.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @mysticmunson & @hellfire--cult thank you for listening to my rambles and helping me with ideas and inspiring me more and more to write this fic 🤍

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In the months after Steve had left you, you had never felt as miserable as you do now, which is surprising, considering how happy you were in the past few weeks before you had gone on that stupid date with Ray. Not only did that night trigger every bad memory, every negative feeling that you have pushed away for months, you had also made it worse by calling him.

You shouldn’t have called him, you wouldn’t be dealing with all these messed up feelings now if you had just stayed at Rick’s place and waited for Eddie to come back out of the house instead of running off and calling your ex boyfriend.

You shouldn’t have gone to see him on Sunday when you finished your shift at the record store, you should have just gone home but your stupid heart led you there to make it hurt even more when you saw him with her, how gentle he was with her, how happy he looked with her.

You feel as though you are back to square one.

Seeing them together shouldn’t be this hurtful, you should be used to it by now but your feelings are just so hard to ignore. Seeing the way he treated her reminded you of the way he never treated you – only in the first few weeks of your relationship was he this gentle and sweet with you.

When his gentle touches turned into rough ones and the softness in his eyes disappeared, you knew that something had changed, but you were so in love with him, you didn’t care how badly he treated you when he stopped being the Steve you once knew.

You stare at the pages in your book with a blank expression on your face. You are not reading, you are not taking notes, you are not focusing the way you should be. No, your mind is too busy recalling every painful moment that you have had with him.

Heather puts her notebook down, throwing her pencil on the bed, she lets out a groan as she stretches her arms out. Chrissy glances at her as she tears her eyes away from her book. While you and Heather study for finals, she is catching up on her favorite novel, her finals aren’t until next year as she had to repeat second grade after she had gotten sick and missed too many school days.

Heather looks at you, a frown appears on her face when she notices the expression on your face.

“Y/n?”

You blink, furrowing your brows as you look up at your friend, “yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

No.

You shrug and close your book, “yeah, why?”

Heather isn’t convinced and neither is Chrissy who watches you with worried eyes. She had noticed that something is off with you, after spring break, something had changed and you are now more distant than before and it’s not just that, you are also very quiet. Just like you were after your breakup with Steve.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Heather says.

You feel bad for lying to them, for not telling them things that you would have told them a few months back, but you still aren’t the only one who keeps secrets.

Without thinking, you push your sleeves up, accidentally revealing the fading bruises around your wrists. Heather notices them right away, her eyes widen and a gasp falls from her lips. Chrissy furrows her brows at her friend before she notices what she is looking at, she places the book down and straightens up to see what had shocked her friend so much.

When you see the confused and shocked look on Chrissy’s face, you realize your mistake and quickly push your sleeves back down, as though it will reverse your mistake.

“What the fuck?”

“W-What is that, what happened?” Chrissy asks, worriedly.

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing, you shake your head.

“Nothing happened,” you mumble and get up from your bed after pushing the books off of your lap. You leave your room, desperately wanting to escape this situation but of course they follow you, calling out your name bewildered.

“That’s not nothing, y/n!” Heather says angrily as she follows you downstairs.

“I fell,” you mumble, coming up with the weakest lie ever.

Heather snorts in disbelief, “and I’m supposed to believe that?” She asks, almost yelling. You don’t take her anger to heart, you know that she is worried.

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Heather,” she mumbles, trying to calm her down.

You turn on the lights in the kitchen, blinking rapidly as you feel tears of frustration building up. You try to distract yourself by reaching for the newspaper on the counter, a flyer from some pizza place at the new mall is laying on top of it.

“A-Are you guys hungry?” You ask, without looking up, “I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving. We could order a pizza, there’s a new place, Surfer Boy–”

“Y/n,” Chrissy says, quietly as she walks towards you with a look of concern in her eyes.

“We could order different kinds,” you say, still hoping to be able to change the subject of the conversation despite knowing that it’s a lost cause.

Heather crosses her arms over her chest, her brows are knitted as she looks you up and down.

“What happened?” She asks again.

Chrissy turns around to send her a warning look, shaking her head.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Chrissy says as she places her hand on top of yours, trying to give you reassurance.

You narrow your eyes, trying to hide your tears as you give her a small smile.

“You always tell us everything, y/n,” Heather says and for the first time you hear sadness in her voice, sadness and concern. “Since when do you keep secrets?”

Her question irritates you and it sparks the anger inside of you. You snap your head up and look at her with raised brows, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

She looks a little taken aback at your words, surprised even. Though, her eyes flash with guilt. She doesn’t say anything this time, neither does Chrissy and when you look back at her to see her avoiding your eyes, you can’t even help but scoff.

“What are you guys not telling me?” You finally ask the question that’s been on your mind for months now, “what are you hiding?”

Chrissy mumbles your name with a pleading voice, her cheeks glow red, she looks embarrassed.

“You do know that you’re doing the same shit that Steve did to me, right?”

Heather can’t even look into your eyes anymore, she looks down.

“He did that too, he kept secrets, he didn’t talk to me, he didn’t tell me anything, he kept lying to me a-and then it all got too much and he spilled everything to me the moment he had one too many drinks – is that what it takes for you to be honest with me? D-Drinks? Do you need to get drunk too to tell me that you don’t want to be my friend anymore?”

Both of them raise their heads to look at you, shocked and confused as though they can’t believe that you would think that of them.

“What!?” Heather asks, raising her voice, “you think we don’t want to be your friends anymore? What the hell, y/n? You are the one who pushed us away!”

“Because you are both keeping secrets! You whisper behind my back! You don’t tell me shit anymore! What do you expect me to do? To sit there and wait for you to leave the way everyone else does?” Your voice breaks and once again, your tears spill. You can only huff in annoyance when you feel your wet cheeks, “for fucks sake,” you whisper as you wipe away the tears in anger.

Chrissy looks down, she had never felt this guilty before. She knows it’s because of her. The secrets and the whispers. It’s her fault that you feel like they don’t want you but she is scared, so scared to lose you if you find out the truth but right here is where she realizes that she will lose you either way.

Heather’s eyes soften and she looks at you with a frown.

You step away from Chrissy and turn away from them, you place your hands on the counter and look out the window.

“We are not leaving you, y/n,” Heather says, walking towards you, “we would never leave you, you’re our best friend.”

You try not to show how bitter you are, how angry and hurt you still are.

“Doesn’t feel like it, Heather.”

“But she’s right,” Chrissy says with a shaky voice, “we would never leave you.”

You are so sick of the tears, of the pain, of all of this.

Heather and Chrissy share a look and you watch them with narrowed eyes.

You wipe the fresh tears with your sleeves and turn around, leaning against the counter as you look at the blonde, who stares at you with nothing but fear in her eyes and suddenly, you feel guilty for the outburst you just had.

“I’m sorry,” Heather whispers as she reaches for your hand, “I’m sorry we made you feel that way but you are still our best friend, even when we’re not yours anymore.”

“Yeah, Eddie stole that title,” Chrissy mumbles, rolling her eyes when she says his name. She leans against the counter beside you and looks at you with an apologetic look in her eyes and the guilt. The guilt is not very hard to miss.

You know that she is hiding something, something that Heather knows about, something that she doesn’t want you to know. It hurts, she used to tell you everything, now Heather is the only one she confides in and as hurtful as it is, you have to respect that.

“You are still my best friends too,” you murmur and lower your head to hide the pain, “I’m sorry for getting so mad.”

Heather sighs, she rolls her eyes at her own outburst, “I’m sorry too, you don’t have to tell us what happened but just know that we are here for you.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy whispers as she once again reaches for your hand, this time, you squeeze her hand back.

You know that they want to know what happened or better yet, who happened. You don’t want to talk about Ray or the date and the awful things that happened, least of all what happened afterwards when you decided to call him.

“I went on a date with Ray.” You say after a beat of silence.

Their eyes widen with both shock and confusion.

Chrissy opens and closes her mouth, no words come out.

“Ray Parker?” Heather asks, still confused. She saw you with him, at the bonfire party but she didn’t think anything of it.

You nod, clenching your jaw.

“Yeah.”

You feel a shiver running down your spine when you think about that night.

“Turned out that he never wanted to go on a date with me, he just wanted to fuck. I-I didn’t want to, I didn’t even want to go on a date with him, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you ramble as you quickly want to close the subject again, “H-He was very persistent and he kept trying but I pushed him away, nothing happened, luckily.”

Chrissy holds her hand in front of her mouth and Heather looks at you in disbelief.

They see the fear in your eyes and how shaken up you still are.

“What the fuck,” she mumbles, angrily. “He did that to you?” She asks, pointing to your wrists.

“Yeah but it’s okay, it’s–”

“It’s not okay! I’m gonna cut his dick off!” She says, throwing her hands up, “and his balls too!”

“Count me in,” Chrissy says with an angry frown in her soft features. “I hate men!”

You can’t help but snort as you bury your face in your hands.

“This is not funny, y/n!” Heather says, nudging your shoulder, “why do you always go for the worst guys?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

Heather is seething and so is Chrissy, that’s why you didn’t want them to know. It’s bad enough that the others know that Eddie and Steve went after him, that they risked getting in trouble with the cops.

Heather keeps mumbling curse words under her breath, while Chrissy tries to make sure that you are feeling okay.

“Do you know where he lives?” Heather asks, “did you go to the cops?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to know where he lives, you don’t want to go to the cops. His wealthy parents won’t let anything happen to their precious son besides, you hope that he learned his lesson after what Eddie and Steve did to him.

Heather and Chrissy might think that it’s Ray who causes you to feel this way, it’s not. It’s Steve, it’s always Steve who is on your mind. It's him who is making you feel like you are not okay because he is once again, haunting you in your memories, in your dreams, in everything.

He is haunting you.

Heather keeps asking questions and it’s starting to make you feel sick.

You close your eyes when you suddenly feel lightheaded, you pinch the bridge of your nose and take deep breaths.

“Can we please just not talk about this?” You ask, interrupting Heather’s ramble, “I-I don’t want to think about it anymore. Besides, it’s been taken care of,” you mumble the last part.

“Wait what?”

“What do you mean?” Chrissy asks, “what’s been taken care of?”

“Eddie and Steve, t-they went after him.”

Chrissy stares with wide eyes and Heather looks at you, confused.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Eddie and Steve?”

You nod.

“I’ll tell you everything but can we first order some food?”

Chrissy notices the pale look on your face, the shakiness in your hands, the tired look in your eyes. She knows. Her eyes meet Heather’s, she nudges her head, raising her brows.

“Yes, of course,” Heather says, reaching for the flyer you looked at earlier, “let me guess, you want pineapple pizza.”

“No way,” you snort, “I only eat it when I’m high.”

“Which happens like three times a week nowadays,” Chrissy jokes.

“What can I say, my weed man is really good.”

Heather laughs, “a very bad influence,” she points out with a smile on her face, “I’ll go order the pizza,” she says before she walks out of the kitchen.

You clear your throat and turn to Chrissy, who is already watching you. There is still concern in her eyes and you desperately want her to stop worrying.

“Chris,” you mumble as you grip her hand tighter, “don’t worry about me.”

She frowns at your words, how can she not worry about you?

“You thought that we don’t want to be your friends anymore.”

“It’s okay, it was a misunderstanding–”

“I will– we will always want you to be our friend,” she says, “it’s always been the three of us, y/n.”

You smile, sadly.

“A-And, I just want you to know that it’s not about our friendship with you or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She swallows nervously and she runs her fingers through her blonde hair, looking at anything but you, she blushes and it makes you wonder.

“I-I just, Heather isn’t hiding anything from you. T-There’s something that I can’t tell you yet but I will,” she says, looking at the floor, “when I’m ready, okay?”

She is scared of losing you, scared of pushing you away with whatever she is dealing with.

You nod, “of course.”

You are worried about her, about what she’s keeping from you, about what she is so nervous about. You take both of her hands in yours and step closer to her.

“Hey,” you whisper, “can you look at me?”

She raises her head a little, looking at you through her bangs.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, you don’t have to be scared,” you say, rubbing your circles on her skin, “I’m here and I’ll always be here, no matter what, okay?”

She nods, a smile tugs at her lips.

“I didn’t mean to get so angry, I’m sorry.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I understand it.”

“But we’re okay, right?” You ask.

She nods, eyeing your face with a sad look in her eyes, “of course, we’re okay.”

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeats your words with a smile.

“Hey guys, some guy named Argyle was on the phone! Never heard that name before,” Heather says, laughing from the living room, “he sounded cute.”

You and Chrissy look at each other with furrowed brows before you burst into giggles.

The bruises have faded away, your skin looks healed again, you can finally wear skirts and t-shirts after weeks of hiding in sweaters and jeans. The weather is warm, the sun is shining and the flowers adorn the pretty fields of Hawkins, finally. It’s nearing the end of April and you’re getting closer and closer to exams and the final day of school. You can’t wait to get out of here.

You are staring out the window, watching the white clouds move in the blue sky, you drown out the voices in the classroom, the laughter of Tommy and Carol as they gossip, as always.

The past few weeks haven’t been easy on you, you have been trying to avoid him but everywhere you go, you see him, it reminds you of the way things were after he dumped you. Only this time, he tries, he really tries to sneak his way back into your life, you don’t let him – you want to but you don’t let him. Yet, you can’t help but love every little moment you have with him – passing by him in the hallway, seeing the way his eyes light up when you flash him a small smile, you don’t let it confuse you but, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach either.

You will forever regret the date and the call. That night changed everything. You were okay, you were okay without him. You were sure that you had moved on. You were sure that you did not want him anymore. You were so damn sure. Yet, here you are, unable to stop thinking about Steve Harrington.

Someone places their books on the table, picking the seat next to you. You don’t turn around to face whoever it is, not caring. But, when you smell his cologne, you tense up and your heart skips, you don’t need to look at him to have all these feelings rushing through you.

You look away from the window, you lean back and finally turn to look at him. He looks good, the way he always does. He is wearing a black sweater, his sleeves are pulled up, you notice a silver bracelet around his wrist, you haven’t seen before. His knuckles are healed, no bruises litter his skin any longer but there’s a scar that hasn’t been there before. You wonder what he told her when he sported the bruises on his knuckles and on his temple.

He doesn’t say anything, he just flashes you a small smile and looks away when the teacher walks in.

Why does he sit here? Why next to you?

You force yourself to look away too. You hate the beating of your heart. You hate the way you feel when you smell his cologne, the stupid smell of Farrah Fawcett spray, you hate the way it feels to be so close to him.

You try to focus on class, you try to write down notes, you try to think about anything but him beside you.

Steve has other plans though when he slides his notebook over to you after scribbling something on the blank page.

You turn to look at him with a questioning gaze but he is not looking at you, he is looking at the blackboard, pretending to listen to Mrs Jones.

You look down at the notebook.

‘Hi’. He wrote with a smile next to it.

You can’t help but snort quietly.

He smiles to himself, narrowing his eyes to look at you.

You take your pen, shaking your head as you write a ‘hey’ before you slide it back to him.

He glances at the teacher before he begins writing. Mrs Jones isn’t paying attention to you, the elderly woman is too busy writing on the blackboard as she taps her heel against the ground.

You bounce your knee, pressing your lips together as you look at anything but him. You dig your nails into your palms as you wait in anticipation. When he slides the notebook back to you, you glance at him for a moment before you look down.

‘How are you?’

You wonder if it is a conversation starter or a genuine question but, when you find him looking at you with a soft eyes, you have your answer.

‘I’m good, you?’

Steve knows it is a lie.

‘I’m okay. Can you believe that we’re graduating soon?’

You smile at him and shake your head.

‘No. Are you still becoming a basketball star?’ You write down.

You watch the way he shakes his head with a blush on his cheeks. He leans down, putting his hand on the table as he writes.

'Not good enough to be a basketball star.’

You raise your brows in question, pressing your lips together.

What happened to his confidence? You wonder.

‘You were always good enough, Steve.’

Steve stares at your words for a long moment, his brows knit together and for a second, he lets the sadness take over. He never felt good enough.

‘Not for this. Are you still becoming a stripper?’

When you read the question, a giggle bursts from your lips before you can stop it. You always used to joke about it, telling him that you would become the best stripper in town.

There is not a single strip club in Hawkins.

You clasp your hand over your mouth and your eyes widen when you realize how loud your giggle was. Everyone is now looking at you.

Steve presses his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“Is there anything you want to share with the class?” Mrs Jones asks, raising her brows at you as she stands there with her hand on her hip.

You shake your head.

Steve snorts a little when he glances at you, you are staring wide eyed at the teacher with a blush on your cheeks. Cute.

You kick his foot under the table and he has to hide his face behind his head when he laughs quietly.

“Pay attention!” Mrs Jones says, pointing at you with her finger.

You nod, “yes ma’am.”

She glares at you before she turns away.

“Asshole,” you whisper to Steve before you reach for your pen again, ignoring the prying eyes of some of the cheerleaders and of course, Tommy and Carol, you don’t have to turn around to know that they are staring.

‘No, I want to be a groupie now.’

Steve shakes his head, of course, you would say that.

He changes the topic, though it’s a mistake, a very big mistake.

Steve doesn’t know that you are haunted by memories of him.

Your birthday is soon, any plans?’

You are already struggling. Why did he have to bring this up? Why did he have to remind you of your last birthday? Why?

You stare at the words on the paper for what feels like forever. You hate your birthday, especially the last birthday.

You remember the way you felt that day, you remember the way you waited for him, thinking that he would surprise you. You didn’t want a party, you didn’t even want a cake but Heather and Chrissy had still made one for you, they spent the afternoon with you, they gave you presents, ate cake with you and offered to take you out to dinner but you said no, because you knew that he would take you out for dinner and surprise you with the locket you have told him so many times about. The locket you had seen when you passed by the little jewelry store, he was with you, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you laid eyes on it for the first time, he knew you wanted it and you thought, you really thought that he would get you the necklace. You could have bought it yourself with the credit card your dad gave you before he left but you wanted it to be something special.

Steve did not take you out for dinner that night, in fact, he didn’t spend the night with you, at all.

You want to cry just thinking about it.

You waited and waited, you sat by your window and looked out, waiting for him to finally arrive. You put on the pretty sundress that you had bought when you went shopping with Chrissy. You did your makeup and your hair the way he always liked it.

With your hands in your lap and excitement still lingering on your face, you waited.

Your eyes lit up when you saw his car pulling up to your driveway, you jumped up and rushed over to the mirror, taking one last look at yourself before you rushed down the stairs with a smile on your face.

You opened the door just as he was about to unlock it with the keys you gave him.

“Hi!” You said, unable to fight the smile off your face.

Steve was holding a small box in his hands, you thought you knew what was in there.

“Hey babe,” he said but his voice did not match your excitement.

He walked in and closed the door, handing you the box. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “happy birthday,” he said with a smile that could only be described as forced.

Your own smile began to fade a little when you noticed the disinterested look on his face, you looked down at the little box. Did he give you what you wished for? You had wondered.

“What took you so long?” You asked as you looked at the clock, it was 7pm. “I’ve been waiting for you, Stevie.”

“I was getting ready for the party.”

You furrowed your brows and looked at him in confusion as you could already feel your heart dropping.

“What party?” You mumbled, “I-I told you that I don’t want–”

“No, I know.” He said, “I know you didn’t want to throw a party, I mean Tina’s party.”

You couldn’t believe him. He knew, he knew you did not want that. He knew you wanted to spend the night alone, with him.

“I-I thought we could do something else, it’s my birthday, Steve.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, happy birthday,” he said with fake enthusiasm in his voice, “now let’s go celebrate it.”

Your shoulders slumped, you opened your mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. You stared at him in disbelief as your eyes began to well up with tears.

“But, I thought we could go out for dinner.”

He scrunched his face up, snorting, “what are we forty?” He said, “come on, get your stuff, we’re leaving.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you looked at him with sad eyes and a pout that always pulled at your lips, naturally.

He huffed.

“Man, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You said with a small voice, frowning.

“Like that,” he mumbled, pointing at your frown, “that’s fucked up.”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to run upstairs and crawl under the sheets, you wanted to escape this.

“W-Well, you can go to that stupid party. I’m not going.” You pushed the box back in his hands and brushed past him, walking up the stairs as you began to remove the clips in your hair.

“Babe!” He groaned.

“You can go, Steve. I’m not feeling well anyways,” you lied and continued your way up the stairs, still hoping that he would follow you, that he would change his mind and apologize, that he would take you in his arms and kiss you, that he would take you out to dinner, that he would kiss you under the stars and put the necklace around your neck but he never did.

Just as you walked into your room, you heard the front door shutting and his car starting just moments later.

Despite how he had acted before, you didn’t expect him to leave, but he did. He left and you spent the evening alone with a bottle of Whiskey your dad left behind, you drank and you cried, missing the boy who used to protect you, who used to love you. You stayed in your dress and listened to David Bowie and then, four hours later, he came back but you wish he never did.

The memory of that night still hurts, it all hurts.

‘No, you know I don’t celebrate my birthday.’ You write down in bitterness.

Steve looks guilty, he feels awful for what he did on your last birthday. If he could turn back time and change it, he would.

You can’t help but look at him, and you see it, you see the guilt and the sadness and the anger he feels for himself but it does nothing to ease your pain. It still hurts so much.

‘Can I come over, the night before?’

It’s a tradition you have had since you were children. He would always sneak into your room and give you his presents at midnight. He didn’t do it last year. Why now? You are no longer friends, you are no longer a couple, you are not even acquaintances at this point.

Are you a fool for saying ‘yes’? Maybe. Do you care? No. Apparently, he still has you wrapped around his finger.

He smiles at you and closes the notebook when the bell rings. You wonder if he will throw the page away or if he will keep it. You would. You hate how giddy he still makes you feel, you hate the butterflies that still flutter in your stomach, why won’t they die?

You leave the classroom together but neither of you say anything, you just glance at each other before you go separate ways, he flashes you one last smile – his is certainly much brighter than yours, yours is still etched with pain.

You make your way towards your locker to retrieve your backpack and your jacket. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone moving towards you and when you turn your head, you see that it’s Chrissy.

A smile tugs at your lips.

She looks determined, her eyes are set on you, she isn’t smiling and as she gets closer, you notice how nervous she looks.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smile, “what’s up?” You ask, curiously when she still refuses to smile.

Her hands are pressed together and she looks at you with uncertainty in her eyes. She fidgets with her shaky hands.

“I-I’m ready to talk.”

You did not expect to hear that from her. It’s been weeks since she admitted to keeping something from you and not once did you pressure her to talk, you did try to reassure her that nothing could drive you away from her but she still needed time.

“You are?” You ask, looking around the crowded hallways.

She nods, licking her lips as she stares at you.

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” You reach for your backpack and pull the strap over your shoulder before you reach for her hand, “come on.”

You can feel how nervous she is, how clammy her hand is, how shaky it is as she grips yours tightly. It makes you a little anxious. What could possibly make her this nervous?

You leave the school and walk towards your car.

“Do you wanna go to my place?” You ask.

She shakes her head, looking down as she lets go of your hand to walk to the passenger side.

“Okay, uh, the lookout?” You ask.

“Y-Yeah.”

You nod and unlock your car, you throw your backpack in the backseat and reach for the sunglasses in your glove compartment. You glance at her, noticing how nervous she still is as she bounces her knee.

“Chris, don’t be so nervous,” you say, trying to reassure her, “if you wanna talk about your position on the cheer squad, you can absolutely have my spot as the captain,” you joke but she doesn’t laugh, she only cracks a small smile.

You figure that nothing you will say will make her any less nervous, the only thing that will help is talk about whatever is laying heavy on her heart. So, you start the car and you turn on some music, hoping that it will calm her down. You drive to the lookout, you always used to go together. Back when you had only gotten your driver license, you, Chrissy and Heather would always come up here and have a little picnic, you would take pictures of each other with your dad’s polaroid camera.

You miss those days. The simpler days.

You both get out and sit on the hood of your car, looking down at the small town you live in. From up here, it looks so much smaller than it actually is.

“I– I don’t know how to tell you,” she starts after a long few minutes of silence.

“What are you afraid of?” You ask as your take your hand in yours.

She blinks. The wind blows through her hair and she looks down to avoid your eyes.

“That you won’t be my friend anymore.”

“Chrissy,” you whisper, holding her hand tighter, “we’ve been friends since we were little kids, what makes you think that I’d stop being your friend?”

She shrugs.

“You and I, we're best friends for the rest of our lives.”

She rolls her eyes, “except you got Eddie now.”

“Eddie isn’t a girl though, I still need my girl best friends – hey, are you jealous of Eddie, is that it?” You chuckle.

Her eyes widen and she tenses up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her cheeks take the color of your red skirt and your smile falls as you stare at her reaction in surprise.

“I-I, no! I’m not–” She stutters and her voice gets high pitched.

“Wait, y-you don’t like Eddie do you?” You frown.

She almost looks taken aback by your question and she draws back, scrunching her face up as she shakes her head, “what!? No!”

Your shoulders slump in relief.

Her reaction is almost comical, if the circumstances were different, you would probably laugh at the twisted mouth and the disapproving look in her eyes.

“I don’t like him,” she says, shaking her head, “I don’t like people like him.”

“Oh,” you frown. Is that it? Is that what she is keeping from you? She doesn’t like Eddie? She doesn’t like your best friend? She doesn’t like his reputation and your reputation?

“N-No!” She huffs, rolling her eyes at her choice of words, “I don’t mean it like that, I don’t mean him in general, I-I mean – fuck.” Her shoulders slump and she closes her eyes when she feels the tears welling up. “I don’t like men – I don’t, I’m not into them! I like girls,” she says, quietly.

Oh.

Your lips part in surprise and your eyes widen but you finally relax and the tension in your body leaves. You were so worried about all the possibilities of what she could be hiding from you, out of all of them, you did not expect this.

She is shaking even more now and you hold her hand tighter in response.

“Chrissy,” you whisper and scoot closer to her.

When she hears your soft voice and feels your even softer touch, she manages to open her eyes again and looks at you through her tears.

“You scared me to death!” You mumble before you pull her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “I thought you were hiding something bad!”

You hear her sniffle first and then her sigh of relief as she melts into your touch and hugs you back.

“I-I, you’re not, you don’t think it’s weird?”

You scrunch your face up and frown, “why would I think that it’s weird?” You mumble, still hugging her.

“‘Cause some people think it’s weird.”

“Fuck them,” you whisper, rubbing her back and squeezing her tightly before you pull away from her. You look at her soft features and smile, “I’m sorry you were so scared to tell me but I hope you know that I would never judge you, you’re my best friend and I’m proud of you.”

Her eyes light up and she smiles, “you are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling.

She presses her hand to her chest as she sighs in relief again, closing her eyes.

“So, who’s the lucky girl?”

And just like that, her smile fades away again and she looks at you with the same sad eyes you saw one too many times already. This time, it doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, the signs were always there but as always, you were too blind to see them, just like you had been blind to so many other things in your life.

She was always protective of you, more so than Heather was. She was always a little giddy around you, nervous and shy. She was always more affectionate with you than anyone else.

And then you remember Carol’s words, what she said – or tried to say about Chrissy before Heather intervened.

God, you feel like a fool.

Life passes by you and you don’t even notice. Where is your mind at all the time?

Chrissy’s eyes are filled with sadness and the same fear as before, she doesn’t need to say it out loud for you to know. The look on her face confirms it all.

“Oh Chrissy.”

“I-It’s okay, y/n,” she whispers, “please don’t pity me, it’s just, it will pass.”

You tilt your head, you can’t help but look at her with the same look that lingers in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and look down at her hand.

“No, I’ll be fine, really,” she says, “just promise me that nothing will change?”

Your chest aches and it hurts to know that she is hurting because of you.

“Because that’s all that matters to me, that you are still my friend.”

“I am,” you reassure her again, “I promise.”

She nods at you, not letting her tears spill. She smiles at you again before she scoots closer to you.

“Thank you.”

You shake your head and wrap your arm around her shoulder as she leans her head on your shoulder.

“No, thank you for trusting me,” you whisper, “and for everything.”

She smiles up at you when you fix the green bow in her hair and run your fingers through her ponytail.

As the silence takes over and you both listen to birds chirping and the wind that rustles the leaves on the trees, you hold onto each other a little more tightly when she finally relaxes, knowing that she will always have you, no matter what.

And you feel the tension leaving when you realize that you had nothing to fear when it came to her and Heather.

“Hey, you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I saw Heather making out with Billy in his car.”

“No way!” You gasp, laughing.

“Yeah! And then she acted like nothing happened!”

You giggle, cupping your hand over your mouth.

“Apparently they were high. She bought weed from that pizza guy.”

“What was his name again?” You ask, laughing.

“Uh, something weird–” she mumbles with a concentrated look on her face.

“Ar– Argyle!” You exclaim.

“Yes, Argyle!”

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @screammunson @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader

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cher-rei · 3 months

Note

hey could u do a comfort fic with trent alexander arnold where he’s maybe read stuff on the internet about him that are very hateful and the reader comforts him

reflection— [ T.A.A ]

but I love that man like nobody can [how to disappear- lana del rey]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after his injury, comments start to flood trent's mind and you want nothing more than to make sure he knows that they aren't true.

genre(s): established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: while I'm writing this I can't stop thinking about cody and the amount of hate he's getting because of the united match. he's human too and the fact that people are going to his instragram and commenting the most horrible things about him and telling him to leave the club genuinely hurts my heart because he's so sweet and doesn't deserve any of this. it's normal for footballers to make mistakes and they have their bad days, but putting them down isn't going to make the situation any better. we're supposed to be supporting the team and not blaming individuals for a loss </3

it's strange how the people that swear that they're a clubs supporter can switch up on players over something as minuscule as missing a goal or losing a tackle. it's the way players get dragged for making human mistakes, but because of the pedestals they're put on it adds even more pressure.

the comparing of players, telling them to leave their clubs and so much more pile up on the list of hate they get. no matter how good of a footballer you were there was always going to hate thrown your way, chipping away at your self esteem ever so slowly.

trent was headstrong, he knew who he was and hardly took harsh comments and criticism to heart. it was one of the many things you admired about your boyfriend, the way that he was able to be better and prove people wrong so effortlessly.

but he was only human after all, and it was bound to get to him at some point. it was after his first match back after injury that everything happened. he acquired the knee injury against arsenal in january, recalling the exact moment you saw him limping and biting his jersey to ease the pain.

you were in the stands obviously, worried sick but he wasn't subbed off for whatever reason. while everyone was rejoicing the win you couldn't bring yourself to forget about his knee, immediately rushing to the tunnel so you could see him.

trent swore that he was fine but you were absolutely furious that he still played the full 90 minutes instead of asking for the medics to at least check up on him. that was water undet the bridge however, and he was put off for three weeks but even then you felt that it was too little recovery time.

and you were right of course but he was eager to be on the pitch again. you couldn't pass judgement there because of course he missed playing, he felt horrible for being at home and not having any way to contributing to the teams victories. so when they gave him the green light for the match against burnley he was ecstatic.

and you were happy for him, but that didn't push your worry to the back of your mind. and then it went south when he was subbed off before half time because he wasn't playing at his best. the entire time he was on the bench he was silent, his thoughts running wild and his heart heavy with disappointment.

you were watching the match from home so you immediate reaction was to message him, his dull responses taking shots at your heart.

when he got home that evening your heart shattered seeing him look so beaten up. all he did was drop his bags and come to lay with you on the couch, his head resting on your chest while you reassured him that everything was going to be fine.

trent barely spoke a word to you until the following afternoon when he got back from his physio assessment, in an even worse state than when he left. he was limping, his head hung low and motivation to do anything at its lowest.

you knew that he just needed some time alone before you tackled the situation, so you gave him his necessary space until he was ready to talk. but then the evening came when his side of the bed was empty, and when you checked your phone you were even more surprised to see that it was only 2 a.m.

you got out of bed in panic, immediately rushing downstairs to look for trent but all the lights were off. he wasn't in the kitchen, the living room or even in the backyard. by now your thoughts were running wild, shear panic settling on your chest until you heard the front door unlock.

trent walked in, his lips pursed. "why are you awake?" he took a few steps closer to you, confusion settling on his face. "do you know what time it is?"

a dry scoff left your lips in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing."

he went silent, not knowing what to say except apologise but you were fed up. you gave him his space and kept your worry to yourself, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did but your patience wore thin.

your expression hardened at the recollection of how distant he'd been the past week. "talk to me. please."

"there's nothing to talk about, I'm fine--"

"--that's absolute bullshit" your tone was harsh and it took him by surprise because you rarely raised your voice at anyone, let alone him.

he took a few weary steps closer only to see the tears walking up in your eyes. oh shit, what has he done.

"no baby why are you crying?" he asked soothingly and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently stroking your back in comfort. his heart sunk at the few sniffles from your side, he couldn't believe that his injury had you crying.

you tightened your arms around his torso, an overwhelming feeling of hurt washing over you the more he comforted you. "because you're hurt."

he sighed. "and I'm getting better. the recovery is going well honey."

you shook your head against his chest. "I'm not talking about your knee trent." you finally pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, which didn't make him feel any better.

"I know you read the comments, and I know that you're taking them to heart this time but--" you swallowed the bile in your throat, the mere thought of all the hurtful comments having you sick to your stomach. "--but you're not talking to me about it and it makes me feel horrible because they're not true."

trent's heart had just been shattered to pieces, his lips parted in shock because you knew him so damn well. he had been reading the comments, and at first it didn't mean much but the more they came about, the harder it was to push it aside.

honestly the worse 45 minutes anyone had played this season. trent has exited his prime and it's showing.

this is who you guys call the best right back in the league?? have you seen that match against burnley? kyle walker over this dude any day.

he was good until he wasn't. sorry not sorry.

I'm sorry what was that play?? all he had to do was keep the ball for more than 2 seconds. this guy is a joke.

nah get this man out of my club, I can't anymore.

trent my man this is burnley we're talking about. what are you doing??

he's seen it all. and for the first time in years he let the negative comments get to him even though he knew better. and now here you were, standing in front of him teary eyed in the middle of the night because he wasn't man enough to talk to you— his own damn girlfriend.

a heavy sigh disturbed the silence and that was an indicator to you that he was ready to talk. he took your hand and lead you to the couch, making sure that you were settled down comfortably in front of him.

"you know when we played city the away fans were yelling at me when I went to take the corner," he began with a half hearted laugh. "apparently I'm a shit kyle walker."

your grip tightened on his hand instinctively, but you remained silent and listened to him express his concerns and thoughts on the entire ordeal. he brushed the kyle walker thing off and said that he found it rather amusing instead of hurtful.

"but after the arsenal game when I hurt my knee something just snapped I guess. and you were so worried when I got home too so I just wanted to get better because I don't want you to panic over my injuries."

a lump formed in your throat, the tears resurfacing but trent was quick to wipe them away. "and now people are saying that I played like absolute shit against burnley," he shook his head. "which is true by the way."

this was were you grew defensive. "you just came back from injury of course you weren't going to be in the best shape trent."

his eyebrows raised for a moment, a soft chuckle leaving his lips but you didn't find it funny at all. "ever since this whole thing you've been saying my name an awful lot."

that was surprisingly true. you were upset so of course you weren't going to call him something endearing. you were upset!

you cocked you head to the side, a judgemental look on your face that trent didn't want to worsen so he carried on talking. you weren't going to bed until he had everything out.

"anyway," he chuckled. "I've just been feeling really anxious and self conscious because what if they're telling the truth you know? like okay I score goals and I play well but what if that's just me thinking that?"

his breathing had begun to pick up and you were quick to notice, and alarm going off in your mind and telling you that he was nearing tears. trent groaned in frustration and shut his eyes in attempt to push the tears back.

he bent over to put his hands on his knees to try and calm himself down before you started crying as well. your hand was running up and down his back soothingly, only for him to get back up and take refuge in your arms.

everything was finally starting to pool out, and it broke you knowing that he felt this way and hadn't spoken to you because he didn't want you to worry. the dark living room was filled with his silent sobs that you tried to ease until your own started to fall.

you shut your eyes and held trent as close to you as possible, your shirt slightly wet because of his tears. you wondered how the other players felt when something similar happened to them, if they broke down in their partners' arms as well.

it wasn't easy for them to welcome the vulnerability you assumed— especially if it were over something like hate comments. but it was difficult and they were only trying their best.

"It's okay if you cry baby. there's no need to apologise," you hushed when he said sorry. "It's normal to feel this way, you're human too and I can't tell you not to let those things get to your head but they're not true."

his silent sobs came to a subtle halt but his head remained on your shoulder as he listened to you speak so softly, telling him that everything was okay.

"you know what you're capable of so don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. as long as you know that you have people who support you and are rooting for you, nothing else should matter," you retorted reassuringly in hopes that it would help him realise that he didn't have to worry about things he couldn't control.

it was out of his hands, he lead the arsenal match in pain like a proper leader and that showed immense strength. instead of giving up he pulled through and made sure that the team were at their best before thinking about himself.

you put a small kiss to his temple. "I'm so proud of you. every single waking moment of every day, no matter what happens— I will always be proud of you for doing what you can."

this made trent smile when he finally got up to look at you with glossy eyes. "really?"

you nodded eagerly. "you breathe and I want to scream 'that's my boyfriend'."

that got a laugh out of him and he felt his heart strings tug. he loved you so much for standing by his side no matter what, for being patient and for just being you. he was grateful beyond comprehension and sometimes he felt that he didn't express his love for you the correct amount.

you deserved so much and here you were comforting him at the dead of night because he got insecure. his heart was overflowing just for you.

trent put his hand on your cheek and wiped away the stray tear that fell. "I'm sorry for making you worry. if I do it again just kick me out."

you laughed and his heart exploded. "oh definitely. pull a stunt like this again and I'll feed you to the wolves."

his eyes widened a fraction. "okay that's a bit too far."

you disagreed wholeheartedly and told him that it was the only correct form of punishment for the heart attacks that he gave you. "my heart broke like five times in this past week trent, so no."

he hummed and leant in for a kiss. "I'll fix it again I promise."

you felt yourself melt at the touch of his lips on yours— a tender kiss that held so much sincerity and love, an apology slipping through along with a silent I love you.

he pulled away and took a moment to look at you, drinking in every bit of your presence silently to which you hit him on the arm, a giddy smile and blush having you weak in the knees whereas he was mesmerised, not even realising that you had been trying to get his attention for a bit.

"earth to trent," you called and waved your hand in front of your face but he quickly caught it and pulled you closer to him, a yelp leaving your mouth before laughing.

"call me trent one more time and we're going to have a problem," he said through a smile but you just played along, finding it amusing.

"oh really?" your tone was playful and he wasn't having any of it. "well trent wouldn't-- ah!"

your boyfriend had you lying on the couch in a fit of giggles, him hovering over you as he tickled you but stopping every so often to litter kisses on your face which you weren't fighting at all. because everyone needed a little love, right?

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagine #footballer x you #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold #liverpool football club #trent alexander arnold imagine #football #fic rec #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #liverpoolfc x reader

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jinwoosungs · 15 days

Note

This is such a random question but have you ever written a story where the reader goes with jinwoo to the international guild conference(I think thats what its called)

Im not asking you to write it, you’ve already written so much. Its just that you have so many works I struggle to find a specific one

Byeeeeeee! Have a good day/sweet dreams

hey sweetheart! and no, i don’t believe i wrote a story where the reader attends a conference with jinwoo. however, i can help you find a specific jinwoo story that i have personally written to suit your needs! so i have made a summary of every single jinwoo story i have written under the cut with their links ♡ !

{ sparkle } - first jinwoo story i have ever written told in jinwoo’s POV where he realizes he’s in love with reader

{ 3RR0R } - where the system shows jinwoo that his soulmate is not cha hae-in

{ pillowtalk } - reader speaks to jinwoo about her love for him while he sleeps.

{ season’s call } - reader is constantly under protection from jinwoo’s shadow soldiers.

{ hold me like a grudge } - investigator!jinwoo protects the reader while hiding a secret from her.

{ surround you } - jinwoo is away on a business trip, leaving reader alone as she muses on how much she misses him.

{ like you do } - reader is a young woman living in the real world who gets the chance to live out her dreams of being with jinwoo in his world.

{ butterfly kisses } - reader comforts jinwoo during a bad day.

{ love letter of flowers } - florist! reader and s-rank hunter! jinwoo fall in love 💐

{ slow dancing in the dark } - reader sees jinwoo dancing with hae-in and feels envious.

{ boyfriend headcanons } - general fluff headcanons

{ arise } - reader is resurrected as one of jinwoo’s shadow soldiers due to a tragic event.

{ rose-colored boy } - jinwoo takes care of a sick and feverish reader.

{ sands of time } - academy arc; reader can’t stand jinwoo and lowkey hates him… or does she?

{ light in the darkness } - antares!jinwoo basks in the reader’s softness.

{ tiptoe } - reader is kept hostage as potential leverage, but it fails when jinwoo brutally attacks her captors to teach them a lesson.

{ snooze } - reader loves to humble jinwoo by calling him dorky nicknames.

{ enough is enough } - reader and jinwoo get into an argument.

{ motherland } - jinwoo comforts reader after her failures.

{ love me for me } - reader can’t stand being second best to her sister, hae-in.

{ follow you } - reader becomes anxious at work due to a persistent co worker who can’t leave her alone…

{ house of gold } - jinwoo fumbles his proposal LMAO

{ headfirst for halos } - first yandere jinwoo fic.

{ penpal } - academy arc; jinwoo wishes to get closer to his beloved reader.

{ proud to be yours } - jinwoo makes a huge announcement during a press conference.

{ the dark knight } - reader is a capable hunter who can’t stand it when jinwoo purposely prevents her from attending raids.

{ musings for yandere jinwoo } - more yandere stuff

{ moonlight } - jinwoo becomes captivated by reader when she calls him a strangely unique nickname.

{ anomaly } - reader gets isekai’d into the world of solo leveling.

{ of gifts and curses } - jinwoo muses how his strength and power are for the sake of protecting his beloved…

{ reader inserts } - reader gets emotionally scarred after reading a painful reader insert.

{ too sweet } - jinwoo falls in love with a reader who is the embodiment of sunshine.

{ peaches } - a love story between jinwoo and the reader whom he has always loved.

{ the only exception } - yandere jinwoo who falls head over heels for reader at first sight, willing to do anything to keep her by his side.

{ selfish } - jinwoo being a jealous bby 🥰

{ belong to you } - 100% jinwoo spice / thirst post

{ touch starved } - jinwoo tries to woo (lmao) the reader and win her heart ♡

{ cry for me } - another thirst post based on an ask ♡

{ lover is a day } - comfort fic for jinwoo

{ heartbreak feels so good } - reader is embarrassed with having a one night stand with jinwoo and wishes to forget. unfortunately for her, jinwoo wants nothing more than to remember and finally claim reader as his.

{ marked by you } - more thirst posts for jinwoo

{ the prince and the pauper } - historical romance / fairytale au with prince jinwoo sung and a commoner reader

{ darling } - a yandere story with a twist. yandere jinwoo and yandere hae-in are deeply in love with the reader and would kill each other just to have you all to themselves…

{ company } - lmaoo reader keeps friendzoning jinwoo, and he hates it.

#.conversations with you.#.lovely anonymous

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berberriescorner · 8 months

Text

"Through It All"

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: There aren’t many things that put Rio on edge. Most people see a calm, cool, and collected individual. Keeping a level head is his specialty. What happens when the person he loves most needs him to be strong for both of them? Get a glimpse of what it’s like seeing him hold someone down through thick and thin, in sickness and health. If you know, you know.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE**

Warnings: Angst…like seriously. You’ll understand once you read the author’s note. This fic contains sweet, soft, fluffy Rio. The fic includes some of my crazy humor with a smidge of the character’s inner thoughts. If reading about gynecological procedures makes you uncomfortable, this may not be a fic for you. It doesn’t go into great detail, but it is mentioned and sheds a bit of light. If mentions of the ins and outs of fertility is a soft spot, please read with caution. It isn’t my intention to bring anyone down, but this story is based on parts of my own experiences. Again, the note will explain more.

Author/Personal Note: Okay. Where to start? So, as some of you may know throughout the past two years I’ve been getting cycles of iron infusions. This year, after making several complaints and an ER visit or two. I had an ultrasound performed, which led to me getting surgery months later (the procedure I had done recently). I’ve been spending my days at home recovering, and it’s given me time to reflect. Damn, it’s been a rough couple of years, but I’m so thankful through it all. It’s difficult having a plethora of health issues. This situation put so much added stress on top of it all. As a woman, hearing you have a fibroid. Learning it’s best to get it removed to protect your fertility is scary as hell. You get it done, get sent home, and though you have loved ones taking amazing care of you. It’s still a difficult, challenging process. At times, it’s lonely. No one but you can fully wrap your head around the emotions and feelings the body is going through. It’s pretty wild.

Anywho, sorry y’all. Let me stop rambling and get to the point. We all know how overactive my imagination is. Being stuck in bed, my mind has been wandering. I thought to myself why not take this experience and channel it into a fic. I’m hoping that this will also be a comforting story to anyone who’s been through the same experience. Here is a look at how I envision Rio taking in the experience with his lady. I plan to write at least two more parts for this. Happy reading my lovelies! I wrote this on a whim, in celebration of my birthday, so ignore the grammatical errors my loves. I may come back and do some more editing. Depends on how I’m feeling.

Word Count: 1,800+.

Inspired By💜:

Random fun fact: Toni Braxton and I have the same birthday😆. Happy Birthday, Queen💓.

Everything was still as a deafening silence fell across the room. It was as if each occupant was afraid to utter a single word. Your mother pretended to distract herself with a Kindle book as your father paced the floor quietly. They’d share a glance each time they checked their watch, smiling at one another in comfort and reassurance.

Then, together, they directed their attention toward the chair in the far right corner. It was tucked in a tight corner next to a window, giving little relief and comfort to your husband, Rio. He, too was anxious, but no one would ever know it. He was always able to still his facial features. Never one to give his emotions away. The only person who could read him wasn’t in the room. You were on the other side of the building and the reason for your families’ nervousness. No longer able to stand the constant glances and silence, Rio stood from his seat. He released a breath, rubbing his palms against his jeans. Turning to your parents, he stated, “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee from the cafeteria. Would you two like something?”

Your mother, a gentle, nurturing soul, responded for both of them.

“No, baby. We’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ll come find you if we receive news.”

Rio ducked away in a vacant spot in the cafeteria, hands folded over top of the steam of the coffee. He searched for peace and solace until a jolting vibration exploded in his jacket pocket. Fumbling for the phone, he answered without looking.

“What they say ma-. Oh, my bad. Wassup? Everything good?” Rio listened patiently before snapping. “You know this is something you could’ve handled yourself, right? I don’t have time for the three stooges bullshit today.”

He instantly felt a slight pang of guilt. Rio realized that the stress and worry of his current situation were influencing his mood. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. Inhaling, he continued, “My bad bro. She’s been in for three hours, and it’s got me tweaking. Nobody’s giving us any damn answers. It’s a non-invasive procedure, but it’s still considered major surgery. I just need to hear she’s good.”

“It’s all good, boss. I know you’re worried about wifey. She’s a strong woman. Boss lady’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Call me as soon as you know something,” Mick responded.

“You're right. Thank you for holdin’ shit down.”

He laid his phone on the table, burying his face in his hands. The last few moments he spent with you were on repeat in his mind. Rio returned to the present, hearing the chair opposite him slide backward. His eyes connected with your father’s, and he readied himself for wherever the conversation would go.

It was no secret that the two hadn’t always seen eye to eye. The two men sat for several minutes before your father started speaking.

“I’ll be honest with you, man. You’re not at all what I envisioned for my daughter.”

“You seriously want to have this conversation right now?”

“Now wait, son. Let me finish.”

Hold up. It’s son now? Where is this going? It didn’t even sound disrespectful. It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to play me on some sucka shit. I’ll hear him out.

Rio nodded his head, giving your father the floor.

“I may not know all you do for a living, son, but I know you’ve managed to make a comfortable and safe life for my baby girl. When it comes down to it, that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. It took me some time to come to terms with it, but I know, without a doubt, that you’re doing everything in your power to make her feel protected and loved. Let me just say what I’m getting at,” he chuckled. “You’re good at hiding it, son, but I know you’re worried. Hell, so are we, but that’s alright.”

Rio’s head dropped, shoulders slumping. He took the opportunity to be vulnerable finally. Your father’s acceptance allowed him the space to do so. He felt a comforting grip land on his shoulder. Your father finished, “Baby girl is going to be alright, son. With all your love and support, she’ll be back on her feet soon. Now, you take a few more moments to yourself. Don’t be surprised when her momma wraps you up in a big hug when you head back. She’s worried about her favorite son-in-law.”

Rio chuckled, “I’m her only son-in-law, sir.”

“Even better. You ain’t gotta share. That sweet woman sure knows how to smother people in love.”

“You’re daughter is the same way. It’s one of the many things I love about her.”

“Which is why you understand my reasons for being so guarded. That’s my baby girl. Enough with that ‘sir’ shit too. Call me pops. My son may not like that, but I get a kick out of irritating him anyway. He’s overprotective of his sister.”

“Y’all gon’ try to take me out if I ever mess up, huh?”

“What I look like snitching on myself? Let’s not ever get to that bridge, son.”

The two men shared a laugh, but everything turned serious when they saw your mom power walking towards them. Rio's heart began thudding in his chest.

“Ma, what’s wrong? Did-.”

“Relax, sugar,” she cooed, rubbing a hand against both men’s arms. “The nurse said the doctor should be ready to talk to us in about fifteen minutes. Let’s head back to the waiting room.”

Fifteen minutes came and went. Your mother couldn’t help but crack a smile at both men. They both started fussing about how long the surgeon was taking. She felt sorry for the man once he approached them. The doctor, attempting to apologize, was cut off by an impatient Rio.

“You good, doc. We understand these things take time, but excuse us for being anxious. We were under the impression this would be about an hour-long procedure. How’s my wife?”

The surgeon explained himself. “That’s what we anticipated, but the process took longer. Your wife’s last ultrasound a few months back showed a fibroid the size of a plum. Sadly, it grew to the size of an orange, which would explain why things grew more difficult during her last few cycles. However, you’ll be happy to know that we managed to do it laparoscopically, and everything looks great. She’s being taken to recovery now, but we’ve decided to keep her overnight.”

All three of your family members asked, “Why is that,” in unison.

“We just want to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Given gas was used to see things more clearly, we’d like to monitor her. We’ll need to see that she gets up and walks to get things flowing. I just want to be sure she gets it moving out of her system. Also, since she’s anemic, we just want to be extra careful. I promise everything went well, and she should be ready to go in the morning.”

Each family member felt at ease. The trio waited for an invitation to your recovery room. Though he wanted to be the first person you saw when you woke up, Rio encouraged your parents to go first. The two visitors' only rule irritated them all.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your parents laughed at the slurred responses given to your nurse. Your parents took turns kissing your forehead, expressing encouraging words. Your father, now at ease, left the room in search of Rio.

“You might want to hurry back there. She’s still a bit loopy. Baby girl has been asking the nurse, where my husband? You got my baby acting ratchet in this hospital,” he joked.

“Aye, she was like that when I met her,” he laughed, walking towards recovery.

Rio slid behind the curtain, laying eyes on the most precious sight. You were in bed, laid back, eyes closed, singing off-key as your mother held your hand, laughing. The nurse stepped beside him, giving a small giggle.

“She’s been looking for you. Ma’am, the man of the hour is here.”

Your eyes popped open as you halted the song. “My husbannnd! Hey baeee,” you winced, given the pain and having a hoarse voice.

“Mama, you back here wildin’ ain’t you? How’s our little patient doing, ma,” he directed toward your mom.

“Crazy as ever. This girl opened her eyes, looked at me, and called herself whispering. Loud as ever, she asked me if she still had a uterus. Her daddy would’ve turned red if he were capable.”

They both shared a laugh as you did your best to shrug shoulders. Wanting to give you two privacy, your mom went to sit in the waiting room. Rio turned to you, holding your hand. His lips brushed across your knuckles, and he shivered at how cold they were. Wrapping his hand around yours, he tried warming the digits.

“My momma ain’t answer my question though,” you mumbled, eyes closed.

Rio smiled, “What’s that now, mama?”

“My uterus. Sis still in there, right?”

“Yes, darlin’. What makes you think it’s not?”

“I signed them papers, man. In the event of a ‘mergency, they were going to take shawty,” you sassed, words still slurring.

Rio did his best to hold back a cackle. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mama, you straight. Everything went according to plan. There was no emergency. The fibroid is out. It was bigger than expected. That’s why it feels like you were out for a while.”

“Aight bet. So when we making babies,” you asked, wincing again.

“First off, sit still, mama. Your body is pretty sore right now.”

“Baby, I’m drugged up! I don’t feel nothin’.”

“Second. You’ll be recovering for four to six weeks. You’re not going to be in any type of mood for all that. I believe the surgeon said no sex for two to three weeks. No babies for at least six months, darlin’. They just sliced your uterus open and stitched it back together, mama,” he explained, running his thumb across your lip.

He laughed at the pout etched on your face. Rio caressed the side of your face, kissing you gently. “On some real shit. I was worried out my mind over you, mama. I’m so glad you’re good. You’re my world. The clock kept ticking, and I was about to lose it.”

Your eyes connected with his, “I’m right here, papa. I’m good. We gonna be good. No matter what,” you whispered. Even through the drugs and drowsiness, you could feel his angst. Rio could read between the lines. He knew what you were trying to communicate. It had been on both your minds heavily. Your eyes connected with his. Rio saw the unshed tears you were holding back, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head in agreement. No matter where this path led, Rio knew, in his heart, that he loved you with everything in him.

Baby or not, we’ll still feel fulfilled and happy. My life’s purpose is to love and give you the world.

This piece was both personal and therapeutic for me to write. I truly hope you all enjoyed it. Please be sure to comment and reblog, it's appreciated. Now I'm about to go eat some birthday cake and read some amazing fan fiction😆.

Divider credit💜 : @firefly-graphics

tagging💜 : @4everbrookemarie @darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@nightlywords7 @starrynite7114 @amorestevens @fineanddandy

@rio-reid-whoreee @that-one-anxious-mango @novaniskye

@alertyoulikeitsamber @1andonlytashae @lovedlover @blkbutterfly816 @banana123pudding

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daxerian · 9 months

Text

Out of all, you are my favourite flower

Mick Shumacher x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, and my wonderful grammar😜

Words: it's 3:20am please, this info is too much to ask for

A/N: So basically I'm kinda sick rn again😻🤞🏼 and I was too lazy to write another fic but here I am at 3:20am ❤️

Also I read every comment, inbox message, etc. And I am so incredibly greatful for the ideas, sweet messages and all❤️❤️ and I will be writing soon enough the ideas you guys left on here ‼️ and take care, stay hydrated and don't lose your lip balm!!! Now enjoy reading 🧁

Mick Schumacher dashed into the quiet flower shop, his racing heart matching his hurried footsteps. He had promised his friend a gift for the birthday party they were attending, but in his rush, he had forgotten to buy one. His eyes scanned the vibrant display of blooms, searching for the perfect gift.

"Excuse me, do you need any help?" a sweet voice called out from behind the counter. "Um, well yes! I'm attending a birthday party and I forgot to buy a gift in all that rush, would you mind helping in any sort of way?" Mick was honestly surprised he could say more than one sentence without stuttering because, in his eyes, he was talking to the most beautiful woman ever to walk on earth.

"Well, to save you some time, you can pick one of the pre-made flowers we made this morning or you could pick some flowers and we can do a custom bouquet for you." Y/N softly told Mick the two options he could pick from with a smile on her face. "If we did a custom one, how long would it take?" Mick asked her, "About 10 minutes? It also depends on what kind of bouquet and how many types of flowers you want" Y/N once again answered softly with a happy face.

"Ooh, I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time to wait out for that custom one" Mick told her, "Oh, no worries! You can take a look and pick out one of the pre-made ones" Y/N told Mick with this tone in her voice that made Mick feel this weird but in a good way..

"These are all so beautiful too, which one do you like the most?" Mick asked Y/N, of course, he would go with the classic red roses but he wanted to talk to her more, "Well I would choose the one with peonies and irises, since it's giving such a fresh look and never looks bad anywhere you know? And it's also one of my favorites so that's the other reason" Mick listened to Y/N carefully, making mental notes to himself that Y/N likes peonies and irises together.

"I'll gladly take them then" Mick smiled while looking at her. "Perfect choice! That would be 27 euros" Y/N told him. Mick paid, thanked Y/N for her time and was now rushing to the party destination.

"Honey, I bet he's gonna come soon again" Y/N's colleague and friend, Layla, told her once Mick left the shop. "And what do you mean by that Lala?" Y/N asked Layla with curiosity in her. "He was looking at you like you were some kind of goddess, and with these big love heart eyes" Layla was now excited to tease her friend a bit, since she only told the truth, she could have all that fun in the world.

"He wasn't! He needed help and I helped him, that's part of our job you know?" Y/N told her, trying to deny the fact that Mick was looking at her like that. "Now what exactly are you trying to deny?" Layla asked Y/N, raising her eyebrow because she saw all of those lovie-dovie looks he was giving her friend. "Nothing Lala! I'm just saying the basic facts, he needed help and that's what I did, helped him" Y/N told her.

"So you are telling me that a man that's in a rush stops his spinning world just to talk to you more? Girl, you know damn well that if someone is in a rush they just pick out these pre-made flowers that we put our souls into, pay and leave, running to their destination so they can look like they are on time. And that man stopped his rush mode to listen to you, to adore your passion about this whole flower business, and I'm telling you, he'll come back soon" Layla just told her friend the truth, she wanted Y/N to understand that the stranger that came to the shop was gonna return, for her.

-----

2 weeks passed and Layla was right. Mick Schumacher was back in the flower shop again, but this time more chilled with no intention of rushing to get somewhere. "Hello, how was your day so far?" Mick asked Y/N with a smile on his face, "Welcome again! I'm feeling perfect, what can I help you with today?" Y/N was happy to see Mick back in the shop, but she also knew that Layla wouldn't shut up about how right she was.

"Could we do a custom bouquet today?" Mick asked, "I hope we don't have to rush it this time" Y/N laughed a bit, bringing up the situation from 2 weeks ago. "No rush today" Mick laughed alongside her, oh how pretty she looked with her hair down. He thought to himself, "So a special bouquet for somebody, who might that person be?" Y/N asked him, to know a bit about the person she's gonna be making a bouquet for, because it can't be just good, it needs to be perfect.

"For my mum, she's visiting after what seems like a long time" Mick answered her question, having this cheeky smile on. "A special bouquet for a special person then," Y/N told him. "Yeah, and she likes roses kinda classic but I don't want to get her only roses, and I have no idea what goes with them" Mick told her. "They go along with a lot of types of flowers, one of the more fresh combos that I recommend to people are these pinkish roses with daisies and dahlias but maybe, for a more classic red rose bouquet, you could just do with a few baby's-breath, the little white flowers."

Mick listened, he could honestly listen to her talking about different types of flowers all day and wouldn't get tired of it."Let's do the fresh one you like to recommend to people" Mick told her, "Okay, perfect" and just like that Y/N started working her magic on the flowers. "So, I never quite caught your name?" Mick told her, "It's Y/N" She answered him, not looking at him but only focusing on the flowers. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman" Mick told her while truly admiring her, he never met anybody with such a dedication and love towards flowers. And that's what made him like her, adore her, love her.

"What's your name" Y/N asked him, "Mick" "That's a very beautiful name, Mick" Y/N looked at him and gave him a soft smile before continuing her job. And the two of them made a small talk, got to know each other a bit more and then came the time when Mick had to pay and leave. "28€ today" Y/N told Mick, "There you go, and thank you so much again Y/N" Mick told her after he paid, "No problem, I hope your mum will like them" Y/N told him before they told each other goodbyes.

"And you didn't believe me, honey" Layla told her, feeling proud of herself that Mick had come again. "You should start listening to me more" she also added. "I will listen to you more than ever before Queen Lala" Y/N told her friend.

-----

*time skip to like a year later cause I don't have the energy to write everything 😔*

After months of being friends, Mick finally got brave enough to ask Y/N to be his girlfriend and of course, she said yes. (My dream fr, sorry) Now the two of them were having a lazy evening in Mick's apartment, a movie they weren't paying attention to and just focusing on each other's company. "You know Mick, out of all, you are my favourite flower" Y/N told him, "And you are my favourite thrilling memory, Meine Liebe"

❤️❤️

#f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x female reader #mick schumacher #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x yn #mick schumacher x yn #mick schumacher fluff

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criminalskies · 9 months

Text

To Catch a Profiler - A Parent Trap Story.

Hi there loves! So this was originally posted on my old blog, but like everything else on there, it got thanos snapped along with my heart :( anyways, I thought i'd repost it because I thought this was really cute. I really enjoyed writing it, however, the longer i sat down and tried writing this a part two, the more I felt like I couldn't do it. So for now, this is a standalone fic. Hopefully you can still enjoy it for all that it is <;3!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader. warnings: mentions/descriptions of sex (nondescript), MINORS DNI, pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, not the happiest of endings, but a sweet love story nevertheless. w/c: 2.5k

New Year’s Eve, 2012. As the crowd outside in the streets around your New York apartment counted down to midnight, you were overcome with joy, your arms and legs tangled with those of your lover. He held you close to him and as the clock struck midnight, the two of you celebrated in the most passionate way two lovers can, your souls intertwined as you worked together to chase your highs. By the time the clock struck one, the two of you were spent, choosing to lay in bed watching the remaining fireworks and balloons drifting through the night sky. Little did you two know, this was just the beginning of your story.

Two months went by, you were living in quiet serenity with the one you loved, when you began feeling very strange. Not like any sickness you’d ever encountered, you were eating twice the amount you used to, you were having strong heartburn in bed every night and you would have to get out of bed to use the bathroom almost every hour. You didn’t feel anything like your normal self, so Aaron took you by the hand to the hospital to get checked out. That was when you learned what the New Year had really brought the two of you, a gift unlike any year before. You were expecting. You can still remember the shock you felt through your body when you heard the words. But more than that, you can remember the tears glistening in Aaron’s eyes, his grin spreading across his face as his cheeks burned red. His dimples were deeper than you’d ever seen them and you knew he was going to be the best father to your baby.

Only three weeks later, at your very first ultrasound, Aaron was sadly tied up in court, in what he would later call ‘the longest preceding of his career’, the sonographer let out a quiet gasp, offering you a smile of their own as they completed your baby’s scan. You knew they weren’t allowed to offer you any results, but when they fetched the doctor, she was offering you the same warm smile as she took you by the hand and showed you the two little blobs on the screen, “Twins?” You asked, beginning to tear up at the thought of your beloved Aaron, a baby on each arm. Your heart suddenly felt so full you could just fall down, luckily you were still seated on the exam bed when you found out.

You spent that night pacing your small apartment, waiting for Aaron to return from work. You couldn’t wait to tell him your wonderful news that your beautiful family was just about to double in size. It wasn’t until you checked the time at 11:41 pm that you realised just how many times you’d found yourself in this situation lately, waiting for your lover to come home, hoping every sound out in the hall will be followed by his keys jangling in the lock. He was doing great work, putting awful people behind bars, you know that. You try not to hold it against him how hard he works to make money for you and for baby, but it’s getting harder and harder to be alone now that you’re entering a new endeavour for the both of you. You decided to head to bed, your ankles swelling and your body drained from pacing your apartment all night. His dinner was staying warm in the oven, and you needed to sleep. You heard him come home, quietly moving around the apartment at 1:30 in the morning but your overworked body was too tired to pick yourself up and go to him now. He showered and finally joined you in bed, wrapping you in his arms and splaying his big hand over your stomach, trying to hold you and your baby in his arms.

You woke up so excited to tell him in the morning, your printed ultrasound in your purse waiting to deliver him the great news, and you came out into the kitchen to see a very exhausted Aaron making you breakfast on a tray.

“Sweetheart, I was just going to bring you breakfast in bed. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just wanted to make sure you and baby are fed before I head into the office.” He walked around the counter to you, looking so delicious in his apron that you took back every negative thought you’d had of him the previous night. You took him in your arms, kissing his beautiful cheeks.

“Morning, hedgehog. I have something for you too! Not to brag but it is far better than breakfast in bed. Wait here!” He scowled a little at the nickname, knowing his infamous bed-head always left him looking like the most adorable little hedgehog.

“Always have to one-up me, huh?” He remarked, as you skipped back into the kitchen with his gift.

“Here, look at who I got to meet yesterday.” You handed him the ultrasound with a shaking hand, the anticipation of his reaction eating you up inside.

“Oh! The ultrasound, oh angel I am so sorry I missed it. This case is just chewing away at my time, I’m sorry. I’ll cut back when baby is coming I swear. I’ll be here to help you, every minute I can.” He looked so apologetic, scanning your face for any sign of disbelief, but you believed him. You always trusted him to follow through with his word.

“Look, silly!” You lightheartedly yelled at him. He peers down at the printout, peering at it with that exaggerated look of focus you find so adorable on him.

“Wait, which end is the head? I’m lost.” He turned the photo to you for help.

“This is a head,” you pointed at the first little blob. “And so is this.” you pointed at the second one. Aaron turns to face you immediately, dropping the card to pick you up and swing you around, looking up at you as he spun in the kitchen.

“Twins! We’re having twins, are we? Oh my god. Oh my god! Wait we are having twins right, or one two-headed little baby. Oh I don’t even care, I will love them with all of me either way!” You had never seen him so happy, as he put you down just in time, the two of you starting to get dizzy.

“Well, I think it’s two one-headed babies, but with your genes who knows, baby?” You tease him, always commenting on how his head had to be bigger to make room for all his knowledge. You’re kidding, of course, you love how well-read he is. His reading habit has only increased tri-fold since you learned you were pregnant, he has taken home a copy of every book on pregnancy, parenting and how to be a helpful teammate throughout the trimesters. He is going to be the greatest father to your children, you have no doubts. He wants so badly to end the generational stoicism and hatefulness his father tried imbuing onto him in childhood. He will foster love and openness in your home and you know he will never cause your kids harm. You think that’s even why he’s been working more recently, too, wanting to make the world just that much better for your kids before they arrive and he has to take a step back from prosecuting.

The next few months fly by, all in a blur of morning sickness, twice the little kicks, your life feels like a revolving door of going to the bathroom to pee and living the rest of your life outside the confines of a toilet stall, but you and Aaron push through. You pick out baby names, paint the nursery, build cribs and baby proof your whole apartment, however temporary this home may be. You get it ready for your little family, for a new chapter. But you realise as time goes on that you’re doing more and more of this parenting and planning stuff alone. It isn’t that Aaron isn’t doing everything he can for your babies, it’s that he’s doing it all for them and all the things he used to do for you seem to have stopped. No breakfast in bed or foot rubs or the things that make your life feel more supported and easy, he puts all of his energy into being a prepared father and providing for your babies. As you have to leave your job, in your last trimester. You’re bed-bound for the last two months of the pregnancy which feel like forever.

Aaron is still trying so hard to make the world a better place for your babies which means he is putting in seemingly endless hours at the office and in court, which you feel so proud of him for, but simultaneously you begin to feel very very alone.

When you go into labour, it is unexpected and much too early for your little ones to be ready to meet the world, but here they come. You have to call your neighbour over to help you get to the hospital, and your best friend meets you there, holding your hand for hours until Aaron gets out of court for the day and finally finally checks his phone. He barely avoids landing himself in court for his driving on the way over but it’s all worth it when he arrives and takes over for your friend, helping you breathe through the waves of overwhelming pain as you prepare to bring your twins into the world.

When your two little ones are born, tiny and screaming, Aaron follows the doctors and nurses to the warming stations where they determine that the babies are three weeks premature, but growing nicely and will need to spend just a little time in the NICU before they’re ready to come home with the two of you.

You saw it happen, right before your eyes. The moment your little girls wrapped their sweet tiny little hands around the tips of Aaron’s fingers, you saw every ounce of love he once held for you transfer to them. You saw how the sparkle in his eye could only be seen when he could hold the twins near him. He looked at you still with pride and with admiration, nested deep within him, keeping you both warm. But it wasn’t the same, you used to make his world turn, put the stars in his sky. Now you were just the vessel that delivered him the true centre of his universe.

You thought it might pass, that as time and closeness and shared efforts to calm your screaming daughters would bring him back to you. You had hope.

The two of you settled on names that day, choosing to name the first twin Charlie and the second twin Hazel. You were allowed to hold them on their second day of life, and you felt the gravity of your unwavering, unconditional love for them blossom through you as they squirmed in your arms.

Aaron must have taken a thousand pictures of you all that day. He was so proud of his girls.

When you were finally able to bring the babies home, your house was all ready, Charlie’s side of the nursery decorated with vines and happy little forest creatures nestled in amongst the flowers. Hazel’s side of the room was decorated with clouds and sunbeams, with butterflies fluttering about the space.

It was perfect. The two of you had made the most gorgeous home for your girls, only it wasn’t enough.

As the months went on you and Aaron, both equally enamoured by your twins adorable little faces and squishy cheeks and happy smiling faces, grew apart. You had felt the shift in the air that day when Aaron met your girls and you had been right. His heart really was too full, he seems to have pushed you ever so slightly out of it to make room. It wasn’t one big change, but lots of tiny subtle actions that made you realise he didn’t love you like he used to. He didn’t have the room to.

This drove you crazy, as you tried and tried being a better partner for him, a kinder person. More loving, spontaneous and more thoughtful. But nothing could bring him back to you. Nor could you bring yourself to hate him for it.

You began fighting. Little things like who was responsible for bringing the girls’ diaper bag out to lunch or who should be able to return to their workplace first. Until one day, you were standing in your living room trying to decide what to watch on TV and Aaron was refusing to compromise for what you wanted. He always used to adjust for what you wanted. You blurted it out, in the blink of an eye.

“I think we should break up.” His jaw fell open at your admission but he looked solemnly at you, more in relief than in surprise. He was happy you were the one to say it first. “The girls both deserve parents who love each other as much as we love them, Aaron, and while we used to and it was beautiful. I think it’s clear we just aren’t meant for one another any more.”

“What about the girls?” Aaron was quick to ask. He knew your parents had split up when you were younger and being torn between two homes had almost killed you. You had hated your parents for making their marital problem your life problem, always living out of a suitcase at one house or another. “I don’t think we should make this their problem. They should never have to know.”

The two of you decided, then. Your loving little family would have to split down the middle. Hazel would live with you, and Charlie with her Dad. It was easier this way, while they were young enough to never have to know the burden of a home built on lies. They would not have to watch their parents fake smiles and not-so-happy marriage drive them crazy. You could all be happy, this way. You knew Charlie would never need any more love than Aaron could give her, and the same with Hazel, getting more than enough love from you. You would both treasure them.

For eleven years, you both lived different lives in different states. You moved to California and Aaron to Virginia. You only knew where he was for the sake of absolute emergencies, the two of you hadn’t spoken in years. It’s better for the girls if they never know what’s missing from their lives. You’re both living perfect, happy little lives, thousands of miles apart.

Until…

again, I'm sorry to say I lost myself in this, and at this moment I'm not sure how to even progress with a part two, but maybe that'll change in future. I hope you all enjoyed!

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lambertdiary · 9 months

Note

If you're not too busy could you write a dalton x reader fic? The concept is that Dalton constantly says he hates winter/the cold. But when it comes around and Y/n is always clinging to his arm when they walk, or trying to cuddle more and is super excited to show off her cute layered outfits, he suddenly doesn't mind it anymore?

I feel like he'd go bright red if you grabbed his hands and warned them up in your gloves

Thank you! I love your writing

A/N: THIS IS SO CUTE. this was requested ages ago but hopefully the sweet anon is still around to read this!! so sorry it took so long. Also I’m sorry this is so short.

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warnings: pure fluff

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

You Keep Me Warm

Dalton hated the cold weather, he’s never been able to stand it and he preferred to stay inside and protect himself from whatever was going on outside than having to wear puffy jackets and be uncomfortable the whole time.

Not this time though. It was his anniversary with Y/N and he couldn’t possibly suggest they stay in his dorm all day. No, he had plans.

Dalton knew Y/N like the palm of his hand, knowing exactly what would excite her and what she would be down to do on a day like this. Unlike him, she loved cold weather, but especially snowy days, so he knew he’d be making his girlfriend happy with what he had planned.

He finished wrapping his gift and went to the dorm above his, wondering if his outfit would be enough to keep him warm out there. He knocked on the door and quickly fixed his hair before Y/N opened it.

“Hi” Y/N greeted him as she jumped for a hug, which he happily accepted “Happy anniversary”

“Happy anniversary” He replied, kissing her lips.

“Please, don’t mind me” Chris joked from her bed.

“Hi Chris” He acknowledged his best friend “What do you want for dinner?”

Y/N and Dalton always got her something to eat whenever they left campus. She was sick of the food there but she didn’t have the energy to go all the way to town “Anything but pizza”

Dalton nodded “Are you ready?” he asked, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Yes!” She was really excited “Look, I got this coat yesterday and it’s really warm. I think I wanna wear it on top of this, what do you think? Too many layers?”

He smiled at her “You look beautiful, baby”

“Thanks”

“Um… I made this for you” Y/N took the package in her hands, she already knew what it was but she was really excited to see it.

“Thank you” She kissed him again and gave him a hug “Should I open it?”

“Go ahead” He responded. He was an incredible artist and Y/N was probably his biggest fan, but he still got nervous whenever he showed her something he did.

Y/N opened it carefully, and when she saw the beautiful painting she almost started crying “I love it” It was a recreation of their first date, their first kiss, to be more specific “I also have a gift for you but I’ll give it to you later”

“Agh” Chris dramatically exclaimed “Leave me out of this”

“Is nothing like that” She said, throwing one of her pillows at her.

Y/N took the picture and found a spot for it on her wall. She looked at it as if it was her most prized possession, and it probably was. When she turned back to her boyfriend she slowly examined what he was wearing.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Uh-” He felt a little self conscious since he thought he looked good. He obviously did but that was not Y/N’s point.

“Baby, you look great” She said quickly after she noticed his expression change “But you do realize there’s snow outside, right?”

“Yeah, this is warm” He replied, shrugging.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive”

“Alright then”

They said goodbye to Chris and left the dorm, and as soon as they stepped out of the building Dalton regretted his outfit choice, his entire body temperature would rely on his big gloves and his jacket. Y/N was right but he was not about to admit that. It wasn’t too bad when they were in the uber, but as soon as they went back outside he realized how much he hated the fact that he had to deal with a cold body, but he would do it for her.

Their first stop was ice skating, Y/N used to do it all the time when she was back home and when she told Dalton that she was sad she didn’t do it as much as she used to, he looked for an ice skating rink he could take her to.

She could skate flawlessly, anyone who saw her would think that she’s a pro, but Dalton was having a hard time. He was scared to fall and embarrass himself so he decided to skate along the boards in case he needed support.

Just as he was admiring her do her thing, he saw her approach him with an extended hand “Come with me”

“No” He replied right away.

“Come on, I’m not gonna drop you, I promise” She gave him a comforting smile that she knew he couldn’t reject.

Dalton sighed and held Y/N’s hands tightly. At first he didn’t know what to do, but as she skated to the middle he started to let loose and moved along with her.

“See? It’s not that hard”

“Not when you are the one doing all the skating” He laughed.

He loved the feeling of holding her hand the entire time they were there, and whenever he thought he was gonna fall she held him until he was steady again. They did that for about an hour and he couldn’t believe how tiring ice skating was, but at least it warmed him up enough to forget about the horrible weather. Until they left the rink.

Just down the street there was a cute food truck that had a variety of hot drinks for the current weather, including Y/N’s favorite: hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows.

While they were waiting for their hot cocoa, Dalton took off one of his gloves to show Y/N the videos he took of her skating. There were so many and she was blushing really hard.

“No! Delete that one” She begged when he showed her a video of her almost falling. She tried to snatch the phone from his hands but failed when he tauntingly elevated his phone, she couldn’t reach it even if she jumped.

“No, I think it’s cute” He responded, lowering his arm and swiping to show her a different video, and just as he was distracted enough Y/N tried to take the phone from his hands, but stopped when she realized how cold they were.

“Oh my god Dalton, you’re freezing”

He didn’t wanna seem like that was bothering him, he also didn’t wanna admit that she was right “A little” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Here” Y/N took off his other glove after removing her own and cupped both of his hands with hers to help keep the heat in. His hands were a lot bigger but she still managed to do it. Once her hands covered his completely, she started rubbing them and blowing warm air over them.

Dalton just stared at her in awe, maybe the cold wasn’t so bad. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and blushed when she noticed him staring “What?” She asked, stopping the blowing but she kept rubbing his cold hands.

Dalton smiled softly and shook his head “You are amazing”

“I tried telling you-”

“I know, I just- I don’t like the feeling of wearing a lot of layers or puffy jackets, it makes me feel trapped”

She gave him a soft smile “Alright, let’s try something” Y/N returned his gloves and once he had them back on she unzipped her big coat.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Hug me”

“Uh-”

“Hug me under my coat, I promise it’ll help warm you up”

He wrapped his arms around her and she closed her coat around him. He could feel the warmth coming back and the gesture made his heart beat so loud he felt like it was gonna implode.

They stayed like that for a moment, getting weird looks from random people but he didn’t care. He only cared about her “I love you” He whispered before kissing her temple “How are we gonna drink our cocoa?”

tag list! @maddiescinema @emilyahgreen27 @mayathepsychic1999 @daltonshotgf @llvmos @taymour13 @i2raggi @omgrachwrites @fluentmoviequoter [please let me know if you’d like to be removed]

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fanfic #insidious #insidious the red door #insidious 5 #ty simpkins

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onismdaydream · 1 month

Note

HII!!! for the past like two days I have been scouring your account for your yuuji content.. because it's SOOO GOOD. And I can NEVER find yuuji fics! ><!

I just love how you write, and it's kept me thirst for him quenched but I just- HAVE to get this out there. I guess it's a writing request..

I have this one specific thirst that just. UGHHH. Basically, I loveee yuuji fics, and it's common knowledge that he has sukuna inside of him. (Lol) sukuna, who can basically manifest as a mouth. DO YOU SEEE WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS?? there is just so much potential. And we already know the the mouth can manifest literally anywhere! His cheek, his.. HAND.

UGHHHH

Like just imagine like- being with yuuji, and barely getting into the 'intimate' parts of your relationship. And I mean barely (once or twice), and at first sukuna is annoyed after, bc like- OF COURSE HE IS! How dare yuji, a little brat, do such things when he KNOWS he can see everything! Nobody wants to see some new inexperienced couples fucking? (Me) nobody!

But.. if you can't stop them, join them.. right?

So, maybe he tries to convince yuji to let him have some fun with you. Though yuji immediately says no, that's totally weird!

...

Won't stop sukuna though. So next time you guys start to have fun.. worked up from a mission, unable to keep your hands from eachother.. which lead to yuji having two of his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, pumping in and out, hitting that spot that makes you see STARS.. when all of a sudden, you feel a tounge lap at your clit! 🥺🤭 whaatttt!!

It catches you so off guard, it takes a minute for you to register what's going on, but when you do.. you wrap your hand around yujis wrist, tugging him away.

"Whats wrong?"

!!! How do you even begin to explain? There's SO many things wrong. Starting with the fact that SUKUNA, the person who literally hates both your guts, literally tried to eat you out.. to the fact that, you liked it.. it felt good!

"I think.. I don't.. basically-"

What do you say? What CAN you say? What if when you tell him, he stops? Ughh this is just so- UGH!

"Whats wrong brat? Use your words."

Followed by a dark chuckle, like he's laughing at you. Coming right from yujis cheek. GOD he is so annoying.

"Sorry, brats, just had to have a taste.."

OKAY ANYWAY. This is getting too long BUT it would probably be followed by a small little argument between yuji and sukuna, but thankfully sukuna convinces yuji.. probably by saying that he could either use his mouth, OR take over yujis body and have his way with you ♡🤭 and OBVI yuji chooses the first one bc he doesn't want you to get hurt..

at first he acts like he doesn't like it, but that facade doesn't last long, you hoth love all the new opportunities that come with this.. i mean like, youre both new to all this so maybe when he isnt sucking on your clit, he could talk you both through it teaching yall sime jew tricks along the way 🥰♡

you see what I'm saying, right?

Finish it, if you want, I would LOVE to see your take on this, but I just HAD to get this out there, otherwise I would go crazy..

But anyway, how was ur day? 🥰🎀

-your horniest yuji lover!♡🎀

AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

omg??? first of all, thank you!! you're so sweet and this literally made me so happy when i saw it this morning !! i'm sorry i didn't respond earlier, i've had a kinda shitty work schedule + being a little sick so i haven't had much time here <3

UGHH I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! i've seen similar concepts (sukuna joining/forcing) and it's always so HOT!! i especially love the idea of sukuna licking at your clit and yuji not even realizing... like he's so distracted by the pretty faces and beautiful sounds you're making that he doesn't feel the way his palm morphs or just how much wetter it gets from sukuna's spit..... it's just sooooo good!!

sukuna makes a deal that if he's allowed to fuck you the way he wants, then he'll tell yuji what to do ("the proper way to fuck a woman") and yuji feels a little guilty for considering it but he really really wants to treat you the way you deserve and he has his own selfish reasons of wanting to feel you come around his cock. and maybe it doesn't take much convincing because sukuna's mouth is back on you and making you see stars that you both agree lol

and i don't mind at all if you ever wanna dump your ideas here <3 i think we all need a space to put our thoughts before they make us go crazy! that was what i did before i started this blog :)

#i love the little signature too its so cute!!#.asks #.anon #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori #ryomen sukuna

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autistichalsin · 9 months

Text

I want to write fics about Daddy Halsin taking care of the refugee children after the game

I want children coming to him with their sick pets begging for help, Halsin giving tons of medicine and helping lots of mama animals give birth and saving lots of sick kittens and puppies

I want him tirelessly working when a plague hits and trying so hard to save all his refugees only to get sick himself and have his kindness repaid

I want Halsin to be a midwife for a refugee giving birth and then the baby to be named after him and he cries

I want Halsin transforming into various animals to entertain the children and give them rides

I want Halsin to get a flock of ducks and a bunch of beehives so he can get honey without raiding a hive in wildshape

I want Halsin to be, like, every role- he's a doctor, a veterinarian, a teacher, a babysitter, a minister for weddings (which combine Druidic traditions, Elven traditions, and those of the others at the commune)

I want him to find a LOT of lovers, so he has company between visits from his beloved Tav

I want him to get to spend tons of time in wildshape, but also to find himself more comfortable in his own skin, so that if he can't be a bear for a while, he's okay, too

I want him to get the biggest library, and instead of having to spend all his time learning about parasites and tadpoles and ceremorphosis and shadow curses, he instead gets to learn about healing spells

I want him to get regular visits from Thaniel and Oliver who love to play with their Daddy Halsin

I want him to get ALL the sweet things. The village baker regularly slips him extra honey buns and sweet rolls and all kinds of other things and pretends to have no idea what he's talking about if he brings it up

I want Halsin to read tons of books to the little ones, using exaggerated voices and making them giggle, with a few of the children snuggling in his lap as he does so- and many fights breaking out over who gets cuddling privileges, until Halsin implements an official rotation system

I want a few of the Tieflings to become informal therapists to help each other out, and then Halsin's lovers persuade him to go too

I want Halsin to get tons of lazy winter hibernations in bear form

I want Halsin to have a child of his own- a foundling, a formally adopted child, one carried by one of his partners or carried by himself, I don't care

#halsin #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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daenysx · 1 year

Note

modern!aemond x reader where reader is the sweet type but can be a bit of a brat too. aemond always finds a way to punish her but the sex is soft and passionate sometimes too.

please? thank u, love the way you write your fics 💜

thank you for the sweet words and the request, i hope you like it. requests are open!!

my masterlist

irresistible

soft sex with modern!aemond when he is worried about you.

aemond is worried. literally. he is at his apartment, not knowing where you are. he calls you multiple times and texts you as well but there is no answer from you. you should've come 2 hours ago.

at first he doesn't think anything bad, but then the minutes pass on clock mockingly and he sends you a new text for every minute. no answer. he calls some of your friends but they don't know anything.

in the morning you tell him that you will be at school all day, it's a day full of lectures. you say you will be in his apartment as soon as the classes are over but now you are not here and he worries.

when he hears the sound of your keys opening the door, he stands up and rushes to the door.

"fucking finally, love."

"hello to you too, baby. missed me much?"

"i've been calling you for two hours and there is no answer. care to explain?"

"sorry about that, my phone is dead."

he has been worrying and that's the answer he gets. he sighes,

"you will be the death of me."

he takes your books from your hands, you remove your coat and try to hug him.

"no, i'm still angry at the situation."

you pout.

"oh, please aemond. i'm sorry but it shouldn't be this much of a big deal, you know i would call you back if i had the chance."

"hmm, still no."

"is this your way of punishing me?"

you know he doesn't like it when he can't hear from you. you don't want to be bratty about that but really there was nothing you could do about the stupid fucking phone.

you go to bathroom and have shower. waterdrops help you calm down and relax. it is a long day, and getting absolutely no hugs from your boyfriend doesn't help.

you get out of the bathroom wearing your bathrobe. aemond is in the bedroom, waiting for you. he slowly approaches you, there is a look on his face that you can't easily figure out. you don't like it when you're not close to him.

"is there something you'd like to say?"

"well, i've already said i'm sorry twice but apparently it's not enough for my boyfriend."

"hmm, perhaps your boyfriend was worried sick about you."

"yes, maybe. but he shouldn't punish me like this especially when i had an exhausting day."

he gets closer to you, holding your face in his hands. you look tired and he can't stay mad at you much longer.

he leans into kiss your lips,

"now you changed your mind?"

"you shouldn't force it, my love."

you chuckle lightly and kiss him first. it's an eager kiss, sweet but passionate. he kisses you back, holding your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"take me to bed, aemond."

"always demanding, aren't you?"

"yes, when it comes to you."

he lifts you up and takes you to bed. your hair is still wet from shower but neither of you care about it. he helps you take off your bathrobe and you are completely naked in front of him. a sight for sore eyes. he looks at you like a starved man.

"you have too many clothes on you baby."

"you think so, little brat?"

you take off his shirt and belt. he stands up and takes off everything left. he positions himself on you and kisses your neck. his fingers are on your clit, slowly rubbing it and driving you insane.

"aemond please.."

"hmm, think of it as a way of making up to me. i've been worried and i deserve something about it."

his pace is slow but steady, with perfect touches.

"inside me, please."

he has an adoring look on his face, you are too sweet. he can't resist you no matter how hard he tries.

his long fingers are inside you, then he pulls them and replaces them with his cock in one swift movement. you gasp with the sudden change, this is so beautiful how he fits perfectly inside you. it's slow and passionate just like you love after a long day.

his thrusts end with your soft moans and his groans. he holds you in his arms after and takes you under the duvet. you melt in his arms, slowly drift off to sleep.

he kisses your forehead.

"i love you, babygirl. please don't worry me like this again."

you mumble sleepily.

"i'm sorry, aemond. i love you."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #aemond one eye

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softxsuki · 1 year

Note

hi!! id like to make an urgent request please :)

tw !! mention of self harm / new sh wounds , mention of a blade

if you’re alright with it, id like to request a (romantic) hawks x gn!reader where hawks walks in on reader relapsing.

ive recently grown more and more stressed and tired lately, like my energy is constantly being drained and no matter how hard i try im not enough to stop it. and i wanna reach out for help cause i know i have friends who care about me but i just cant for some reason—i dont feel the need to ask for help cause i just dont think i deserve it. no matter how many times ill comfort others i was never strong enough to ask for the same comfort, and instead of going to someone and talking about it i turn to my blade.

hawks is a big comfort character of mine and my current hyperfix, and as embarassing as it is—reading comfort fanfics of him is a way of coping with it all. so id gladly appreciate if you could write this for me :) ++ if possible, id love if youd be able to include hawks cleaning reader’s cuts, cleaning them bringd me a sense of comfort and id love to see that in the fic.

but if you’re uncomfy about anything at all, no worries ! you dont have to write this if you dont wanna :) have a lovely day<3

Hawks Comforting Reader After They Self-Harm

please do not read if any kind of mentions of self-harm will do you more harm than good!

Pairing: Hawks x Gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm, blade, blood, scars

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 750

Summary: In which your BF Hawks catches you self harming and cleans up your fresh cuts

[A/N: Hey hey, so sorry for taking so long to write this, I know it was urgent. I just happened to get sick randomly and couldn't focus to write. But I finally got this done for you! I hope you're still around to read it </3. Hopefully it provides you with some comfort. Always go to others for help before taking matters into your own hands. Even if you feel like you can't, I'm sure the people in your life would love to help you out <3 I'm here too if you ever need anything! Enjoy!]

You look back and forth between the bloody mess in front of you to the panicked face of Keigo who had walked in on you.

He was supposed to be gone for the whole day, patrolling his designated area until later that evening. Who knew he’d stop by to check in on you, hoping to have lunch together before continuing his patrol duties. Yet, coming home to you hovering over the bathroom sink with blood dripping from your delicate skin was not what he expected at all.

Of course he knew about your history with self-harm and could very clearly see all your past scars on your body, but he never expected to see you actively harm yourself in front of him.

“Y/N…” He starts cautiously, eyeing the blade in your hands as you shake with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, dropping the blade in the sink and moving your bleeding wrists away from his view, but he quickly closes the space between you.

Gentle hands grab your own and inspect the damage done. He rolls up the sleeves of his hero suit and gets to work on cleaning you up. With a clean towel he dabs the blood away, applying slight pressure to help stop the bleeding a little, whispering an apology whenever you flinch from the pain.

He’s silent; contemplating how he let it get this far. He was a hero for crying out loud and the one person he wanted to keep safe the most out of everyone else in the world, managed to get harmed while he was away. He was angry and frustrated at himself that he couldn’t prevent the fresh cuts on your arms. All those nights he kissed your scars and whispered sweet promises of love and protection were all for nothing. Why couldn’t he be more useful to you?

“Keigo, I didn’t mea-” you start, but he quickly cuts you off as he finishes applying the bandage wrap to your wrist.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I should have known something was off, I should have paid more attention and been around to help instead of being out. I’m sorry.”

He presses kisses to your bandaged wrist, just wishing that he could have the magical healing power that Recovery Girl’s kisses had. He wished he could kiss all your pain away and face it all himself in your stead.

“No, no, this is all on me. You’re always there for me, telling me how much you love me and trying your best to encourage me and lift me up, but I always hold back,” you confess, snatching your arms away from him in guilt, “You’re so busy as it is saving everyone. I don’t want to add to your burdens with my own problems as well. I thought I could deal with it all alone, but I failed. I turned back to my blade because it was too much to bear on my own.”

He sighs, and this time brings you into his arms in an embrace, “That’s because we’re not meant to go through these things alone, babe. Even as a hero I don’t do things on my own either. I have a whole agency backing me up along with my other fellow heroes. No one can accomplish anything on their own without hurting themselves. So please let me be there for you to help you as much as you’ve helped me.”

Silent sobs escape your lips as he continues to hold you and speak.

“All those days when you held me after I failed to save someone. All those nights you patched me up after a mission and I stubbornly refused to go to a hospital; let me be there for you for all your tough times as well. Let me be the one to gather you up again and listen to all your worries, don’t fight your battles alone anymore. I promise you’re not a bother to me at all. I want to be there for you. It’s my job,” he reassures you.

“All right,” you sniffle, finally wrapping your own arms around him, accepting his comfort.

He calls the agency afterwards, letting them know that he can’t come in for the rest of the day and instead spends his time with you. Listening intently to everything that’s been bubbling up in your heart, right by your side, wiping your tears away and giving you his unconditional support and love. He’s definitely making sure you don’t deal with things on your own anymore :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted 3/5/2023

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penvisions · 4 months

Text

the melting point {chapter 16}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: In the aftermath of a rather eventful and terrifying last summer farmer's market, you try to find a semblance of normalcy as best you can. Meanwhile, Frankie is up to something that is beginning to cause you to worry about the burden you've become in your recovery.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: medical jargon, mild language, emotional monologues, internal monologue, negative feelings, negative thoughts, ptsd symptoms, pining, emotional pining, depressive thoughts, description of pain and injuries, blood, descriptions of post shooting chaos, panic attacks, notions of death, hospital setting, mentions of needles and iv's, mentions of narcotics, use of prescription narcotics, feelings of inadequacy, angst

A/N: um, so it's been four months since i've touched this fic, then i woke up yesterday morning and just began writing like nothing. takes breaks when you need to, don't force things and it'll all work out. please let me know what y'all think!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“C’mon, hang on for me baby, please, don’t-don’t close your eyes.”

“Mantequilla, everything is gonna be okay, I promise, we’re all here for you, please know that everything is going to be okay.”

“We’ve got you, you did so good, you saved my little girl, you did, you saved her.”

“Honey, we all love you so much, please stay strong, I’ll hold your hand the entire way there.”

“Let’s get you turned over, ma’am, c’mon. There we go, you’re doing amazing.”

“Santi, she-she-“

“Papa!! Papa, please help her, I love her! Tio Santi, do something!!”

“Merde, that’s so much blood, Frankie you’ve gotta focus, you’ve gotta calm her down. Get her home safe, to your mother’s, somewhere safe.”

“Will!! They got her, call Morgan! She went missing the second things got crazy.”

“Has anyone seen Benny?”

“They’re transporting her now, rushing her to surgery the second the get there.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, any donations with the same blood type would be appreciated. Who here is a positive?”

“Sweet girl, please, you’ve got to pull through, I know you can do it. You’re so strong.”

“No response, it’s been how many days now?”

“She’s being rushed into another surgery, she keeps clotting. They can’t figure out why.”

“Fransico Morales? You’re next of kin?”

“No, no, but we’re all she has. Her family is flying out, they’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Taylor, take a moment, it’s…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Daddy, why is tia all tangled in those machines, she’s going to be okay, right?”

“This is my son, he wanted to come and cheer her up because she always did the same for him when he was sick.”

“Please, mi amor, please, you have to make it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Fractered memories played over each other, words echoing and bouncing off of each other through the fog that was all you knew. You couldn’t feel anything, all of your senses stripped away, and you were nothing more than a half-conscious mind tunneling in and out of suspended darkness.

Beeping, an even beeping was the only steady thing you could make out. Sense of environment completely gone and sense of awareness slowly trickling in. Your eyes hurt as you slowly blinked them open, the faint lights around you too bright and you clenched them shut with a huff that pulled at your lungs. The stillness of where you were was shattered as the clattering of a chair sounded, followed by a pair of hands tightening around yours that were settled over your middle. A hushed order to go fetch someone and then a deep voice was rumbling close. You turned your head toward the presence hovering close to your left side, drawn to whoever it was.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, sweet girl.”

A grunt sounded from deep in your chest as you tried to open your mouth and respond. Then a gasp when pain reverberated from the same spot. You tried to shift your legs, hips feeling oddly numb but you couldn’t quite feel them. It was as if they were asleep, but… you cracked your eyes open a second time, squinting down the length of the bed you were in. Your legs were there, obvious underneath the thin, knit, scratchy blankets that only a hospital possessed. You tried to shift again, but even your hips didn’t feel like a part of your body. Your eyes flew open completely, tearing up at the brightness of the room.

Shuddering breaths pulled deep hurt, but you tried to shift again and again but there was no movement underneath the blanket. None.

“Okay, alright, querida, please. Take a deep breath, it’s-it’s gonna be okay.” Frankie. It had been Frankie speaking to you, close to you. His hands reached out for your own, where you had pried them from him to try and prop yourself up, wires and tubes pulling, clattering against each other and making your head swim. “The doctors-“

“I know this must be quite a shock, but it’s good that you’re awake!” A white coat, thrown over a modest skirt and blouse, blonde hair. A kind face, pinched. A furrowed brow. Bad news on the tip of her tongue.

You tried to speak, demand why you couldn’t feel anything below your waist. But you could only croak out the faintest notions of words. Everything was a blur, the hospital room you were in a mess of blue and white, the beeping of machines hurting your ears. Nothing made any sense, confusion coloring every thought as to how you got here and why.

“Let’s get you some water and food first, your body is pretty weak right now. Can I get a level two meal delivered to room thirteen eighty-nine, please?” She turned to address someone who had been hidden behind her, a nurse in teal scrubs.

“Tell me.” You managed to croak out, eyes fixated on her pinched ones.

“I would really prefer to get you a little acclimated.”

“No.”

Her eyes flickered toward Frankie, as if in a silent plea to get him to calm you down and put you at ease however little he could manage. But you ignored the warm weight of his hand on your shoulder, eyes trained on the doctor in front of you as you tried to find more strength to speak around the dry cotton feel of your mouth, the panging hunger that was present in your stomach, the lack of control over your body.

She sighed, arms holding the clipboard in front her in an imitation of a fig leave over her hips.

“We had you in a medically induced coma for the last two weeks. I’m not sure all of what you remember, the brain is fickle that way, pushing things and events out in response to trauma.” She didn’t look from you as the sound of fast steps approached the door, nor when a large figure moved passed her and came straight to your right side. It was Taylor. Both of the most important men in your life on your sides. He was quiet, but you could see the evidence of tears in the puffiness of his eyes, the lack of a smile on his face as he hovered close.

“You were hit in the sacrum and coccyx region, paralyzing you from the waist down. We performed three surgeries to remove the bullet shards and repair as much of the damage as possible. Your blood flow and reflex reactions have improved but we had no way of knowing if anything truly worked until you woke. A week has passed since we stopped inducing you, we were beginning to think you might not wake up.”

The rest of the conversation was a blur, medical terms floating heavy in the air of the room. Daunting, terrifying, life altering. You didn’t think you could handle another life altering event of this caliber. But it didn’t look like you had to traverse it alone. You teared up once the doctor left the room, offering to come back and talk to you once visiting hours were over, though she had mildly glared at both men as she said it. But knowing them both, they had been alternating staying the night to watch over you past the set hours that allowed for them to be present.

You had two wonderful men who were willing to do anything for you, one with a friend group who would follow his lead and the other who had given you so much already. You hoped it wouldn’t be too much, taking what they were willing to give.

“It’s a lot,” Taylor’s voice broke, his words spoken through eyes glittering with tears. His hands tight around yours as he leaned his forehead against yours, completely in your personal space. “But we’ve done somethin’ like this before and we can do it again. We can do it again.”

You could only nod, throat and voice still weak from weeks of disuse.

He walked closer to the side of the bed, the man’s large build shadowing over you in the dimmer setting of the lights you had requested. The full effect of them too bright for you eyes after being unconscious for so long. You reached out to him, urging him to sit atop it as best he could as you all but threw yourself at him. He let you, aware of Frankie standing close to the other side, eyes watering as he heard the cries that began to bubble up from you.

“I-I-“

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. We’re both here.” Taylor murmured, as he wrapped his own arms around you to pull you close. He smelled like your apartment, a mix of faint buttercream and the rose perfume you favored all rolled into one comforting scent. His own masked by the time he had been in town. “Alfred was here too, but he had to be taken back for school. He sat with you every day for that first week and read to you. He was so worried about you, mami. He kept talking with you like he always does, hoping you would wake up and respond.”

Frankie excused himself, his phone beeping in his pocket and the sound of you crying too much for him to handle all at once. You watched him leave the room, his shadow visible through the blinds in the window looking into the room as he paced up and down the hallway just outside. His voice a low murmur as he spoke with whoever had been trying to contact him.

“I didn’t mean to scare him…or you. I’m so sorry, that call – it must’ve been so terrifying.” You hiccupped into his chest, unable to stop the tears and emotions from flowing all at once, overwhelmed and completely at a loss of how to respond to anything at the moment.

Hushed words eradicated any ill thoughts you were having of yourself, comforting in their genuine indication. He assured you he had been able to handle it, that he was able to handle the hard things that came along with being bonded with someone for life, for knowing someone for so long. For having already done something similar before. But yeah, that it had been scary but Frankie had been as detailed and direct as he needed to be, levelheaded in his description of what had happened and what immediately happened afterwards.

Frankie came up to you both as he entered back into the room, a hand on both your shoulders to get your equal attention. You looked up at him with watery eyes, feeling so proud of how everyone was trying to keep it together for you but guilty at the same time since it had been something they had been dealing with for weeks now.

“That was the airline, they need someone to come in and take over a few tours for double pay. I wouldn’t normally turn them down and I will if you need me here. You’re awake now and I want to be here with you.”

“Y-you should go, if you want to, if you need to.” Scratchy words spoken with what little conviction you could muster. He was conflicted, worried about making the wrong decision.

“You need me here.” He didn’t argue so much as read the thoughts in your mind as clearly as if you had displayed for him to see. “You want me here.”

“Yes, but….money is money, Frankie. For your house, for your daughter, for everything. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I’m gonna run and get a coffee before you head out, I’ll stay the night, okay?” Taylor announced before he pressed a kiss to your temple and stood. Leaving you and Frankie truly alone for the first time since you woke up. You reached out to the man, gripping his open flannel shirt and lightly pulling him toward you. But he didn’t budge, his feet stable on the ground and his back not leaning to meet you. He wasn’t looking quite at you, but just beyond you. His eyes a little distant.

“I’m sorry.” Pulling your hands back to rest in your lap, you began to twiddle your fingers, unsure of what to do, unsure of why he was acting so weird and distant. Maybe he was just exhausted, mentally wiped out from waiting and waiting for you to wake up. Maybe…he was rethinking everything he’s once promised you…

“Hey, no, you don’t have to be sorry.” His eyes caught your own, his hands reaching out to hold your own as he kneeled down to be at your eye level. Emotions you couldn’t read swirling behind them. “I just- It’s just… you’re awake. And I’m so scared I’m going to open my eyes or wake up and you’ll still be unconscious…or passed.”

“I am awake.” You insisted, worried about this being an elaborate dream all the same. Some made up fantasy your brain concocted in its last moments and none of it was real, that you weren’t real anymore.

“I want to stay,” He pleaded with you, desperate for you to understand how hard it is for him to make the decision to leave, to heed the call of an entire week’s worth of pay in just a few days. But he had a plan and he had to stick with it, it would be for the best in the long run.

“C-can you stay tomorrow?”

“Of course, sweet girl. I promise. I just- this is important. For the both of us. I swear.”

“I believe you, Frankie. I love you.” You lifted your intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles. He repeated the words before he shrugged his jacket on and bid you goodnight. He didn’t kiss you back, instead squeezing your hands twice in farewell.

“Hermosa, I-I just-“ Frankie hung his head, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees the next evening.

He had gone home to change and get a little sleep after a hectic two days of back to back tours. A touch restful now that he knew you were awake, but still fleeting. His thoughts had been a jumble as his mind flashed your unconscious form across the backs of his eyelids. Bleeding, hyperventilating, being rushed into emergency surgery not once but three times. Of you completely still save for the slight rise and fall of your chest laid out in the hospital bed. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or diminish anything but- just thank you.”

“You saved her, at such a great risk to yourself. But you did, you saved my little girl when I couldn’t. I have endless love and admiration for you, querida. Please, I am here for you. I will help you with whatever you need or want. And not just because of this, but…but until you don’t want that anymore. You’ve got me, sweet girl. I promise.”

The conviction in his tone was strong despite the way his words were pushed out with deep breaths, trying to keep his composure. His shoulders were quaking with the effort he was holding back another wave of tears. Too many emotions for him to handle since the second you had rushed in front of that gun aimed at his daughter.

“Come here,” You softly compelled him, trying to shuffle atop the bed. Feeling still numb below the tops of your thighs, only some control over your legs that you were trying not to dissect. Going over your charts and test results had helped a little, compartmentalizing that it was happening to you and mind working to help solve and reason the things you read as if it was a patient of your own. Work. And a lot of it was ahead of you.

Frankie shuffled up and out of his shoes, choosing to urge you forward softly so he could be the one resting against the back of the angled bed. He helped to situate you against his chest, his arms coming around you in a warm embrace, the smell of his cologne and body wash puffing up and surrounding you in a comforting way. He pressed kisses to the crown of your head, nose shuffling in your hair and making you sigh out at the human contact.

“I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Even knowing what would happen.”

“Te amo. Te tango mucho amor ti, querida.” He whispered hoarsely in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was repeat the words to him, meaning them with everything in your very being. Bringing his hands up to rest over your heart, palms flat over your chest, you both just laid there soaking up each other’s company.

His thoughts took over as you felt your breathing even, reaching over to silence the television that had been playing quietly in the corner where it was installed high on the wall.

‘Everything was so loud, a cacophony of too sharp frequencies grating on his ears as he watched the way your body fell to the ground. The man with the gun fleeing from the scene as soon as the gun had fired, steps heavy as he ran as fast as he could. Pope taking off immediately after him, his own gun pulled from the holster attached to his belt. Permission to carry it around off the clock from one of the local military bases where he worked as a freelance advisor.

Frankie was rushing too, toward you. Toward his daughter. Toward you both. There was a pool of blood forming beneath you, having twisted yourself to prevent from falling on top of Alexia’s smaller frame. She was kneeling beside you, tears running down her cheeks as you reached up to cup her face. A pinched expression on your features and blood blooming dark low on your front. His little girl turned to him as he crashed to his knees behind her and brought her in a crushing embrace to his chest, hearing the hum of the crowd that had begun to form all around.

Shouts to call 911 and responses that more than one person was already speaking with officers, telling them of what had just happened.

She begged him to help you.

She begged him to save you.

Shouting at him in her small voice that she loved you and she knew he loved you too.

She buried her face in his chest as he leaned forward to try and get your eyes to focus on him, but you were barely able to keep them open. Lashes fluttering as your breath became labored. He was speaking, words falling from him as he fell back on years of training. Pinging questions off one after the other, getting no response from you for even one. Unresponsive in the worst way, body completely laid out before him and eyes now completely closed. You could’ve been sleeping, as you were still for a fleeting moment.

But then you started to convulse, body fighting against the bullets that had landed deep in your body. He tried to tilt your head toward him, to avoid you biting on your tongue or choking on your own breath.

A new set of hands was taking over, gently ushering him away as paramedics appeared on the scene.

He could only hold tight to his sobbing daughter as he watched the two technicians tend to you. Your chest ceasing heaving at an alarming rate, your breath almost rattling as your lungs desperately tried to keep working.

Blinking rapidly, Frankie focused his eyes on his hands curled over the controls in front of him. He was flying, the landscape of the city and surrounding greenery, the ocean all laid out before him. He was okay, you were okay. Alexia was okay.

He was at work. He was okay.

His fingers twitched at the clueless ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the tourists clamoring for views outside the windows. Their voices coming in clear through the headsets they wore to match his own. Completely in their own world and no problems plaguing them. Carefree.

He was at work. He wasn’t okay.

He should’ve stayed with you.

He should’ve turned down the offer.

But he had run at the first opportunity. Unable to stop the events from replaying in his mind on a loop.

Preventing him from sleeping, preventing him from being able to look at you half the time. Seeing you as you had looked right after the attack, seeing you as they rushed you onto the ambulance, seeing you as your chest went completely still once loaded up. The way your body didn’t respond to the attempts of resuscitation.

Mind torturing him by projecting you laid out in an open coffin. Copper hair resting around your lifeless frame, beautiful face covered in the wrong shade of makeup, hiding the freckles that dotted your face from him. Forever closed eyelids hiding your bright eyes from him. Black dress hiding your soft skin from his twitching fingers, itching to trace the delicate ink that decorated your skin. A masterpiece taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

Shaking his head minutely, he shoved the fake notions out of his head and pivoted the helicopter toward the coast. Following and announcing the route for the tour that the people sat behind him had requested.

He was at work and he didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But he would try for you, because you were awake and waiting for him to return to you.

He pulled his sunglasses from where the frames were hanging from his collar and covered his reddening eyes.’

“Come on, two more steps and we’re home free.” The physical therapist was encouraging in the most grating of ways. Your normally polite and civil personality being shattered by the turn of events your life had taken. It was a lot of work now, but it had been a lot of work to initially discover that you had only minimal feeling and control over your lower half. Hips sore no matter how much medicine was added to your IV, legs numb and unresponsive more often than not.

But that didn’t stop the doctor from putting you on a physical therapy track of two appointments per week. Something you had thought was a lot right off the bat but not wanting to argue. Just as angered by the quick pace as you were determined to stick to it. It was the second week since waking up, discharge looming like a storm over the horizon, visible but not yet tangible.

There had been talk about Taylor renting a home to move into for the duration of your recovery. His son being taken care of by his co-parent back home with school having started. But Frankie had offered up his own home, a flush to his caramel skin as he did so. Not having wanted to ask you to move in under such dire circumstances. But he would be lying if he said the thought of offering you a space in his home hadn’t been on his mind lately.

Taylor had offered to split his time between Frankie’s and the apartment above the shop. An outpouring of love from the community delivered to the shop and hospital in overwhelmingly equal parts. Baskets of treats, flowers, cards, vouchers for services from all around the city and local vendors. Everything was being toted back between the two spaces that were now yours.

Lex indulging in the treats as she sat with you in the afternoons after school. Homework laid out before her atop the bed as you helped her with her math and writing. Different people picking her up while Frankie returned to work, determined to put in as many hours before he took two whole weeks off to help you transition to being home once you were discharged.

But right now, you were stood on shaking legs, arms braced heavily on the bars on either side of you as you stood between the set up of the parallel bars. Sweat dripping from your hair thrown up in a haphazard bun, skin sallow from the medication you were on a strict rotation of. You had forgone shoes, insistent that you wanted to be able to feel anything should it come back to you while practicing.

Your arms were shaking, holding up the entirety of your body weight on them, muscles straining and tattoos looking distorted with the flex of them. With a huff, you shifted your hips, right leg lifting slightly and managed to shuffle it about a foot before placing your foot down flat and tipping forward to even your weight with the new stance.

“Alright, you did it!” The nurse was a kindly young man, his arms hovering behind you as he waited for you to tap out. But you sucked in a deep breath and concentrated. Shifting your left foot ahead in the same manner before a spike of pain shot up from the arch of it as you settled it flat on the mat.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, I’m out. That’s all I got.” You wavered, arms shaking and legs beginning to tingle where you could feel them.

“That’s okay, you did good today. Four steps is progress.” The nurse helped you, gathering your form in his arms and lifting to get the pressure off your aching shoulders.

Santi was in the room when you were wheeled back, no sign of Taylor or Frankie. He informed you that they were both taking care of something for you which made you feel a little uneasy that they hadn’t told you themselves the night before that they wouldn’t be in to see you today. The nurse let the man take over with helping you get back into the bed, knowing you’d rather it be someone who you knew handling you for something a little more intimate of a move.

The man’s broad shoulders tensed as he supported your nearly dead weight, completely at a loss of energy from the days activities.

“Did they say where they were going?” You inquired, voice soft as you nuzzled your face into the man’s neck. He smelled so good and you were just in a very physically affectionate mood in wake of not getting any direct attention from Frankie in the way you were too hesitant to ask for.

“Mante, you know I would tell you if I knew, but they were like school boys, shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact. I’m sure it’s just a surprise for you, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, allowing the man to situate your aching legs as best he could and covering you up with the blankets that had been brought from your apartment. He busied himself with getting a take out bag unpacked and placing containers over the collapsable table attached to the bed for you. A cup of coffee that smelled of caramel and foamed milk pressed gently into your reaching hands. He was so diligent, the soft curls of his graying hair falling over his forehead as he focused. When everything was set up, he settled into the chair beside the bed with his own container and began to dig in.

But you were still, only a sip taken from the hot coffee handed to you.

“Santi…”

“What is it, hermosa?” He looked up from his food, utensils loaded up and a bite halfway to his lips. “I get the wrong thing?”

“No,” A small smile offered to him as your heart fluttered in your chest, unsure of how to even broach the concerns that were crashing over you in overwhelming waves. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

The man watched you, eyes scanning your face as you averted your eyes. He let out a quiet sigh and set down his utensils completely, asking you to tell him what was really on your mind.

“Frankie…he, um, he-“ You felt like a complete idiot as your face heated up, tears welling in your eyes unbidden. Foolish question, it was such a foolish thing to be worried about when the man’s words were nothing but reassuring and loving. “Why won’t he kiss me, Santi?”

“Is that what you need right now?”

You warbled out an affirmative. Feeling for all the world like a pathetic lovesick fool even surrounded by everyone who you could possibly need in your life right now, everyone working together to help you in any way possible.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

A shake of your head was all the answer you could muster up.

“He’s probably just trying to respect you, not wanting to put pressure on you to be that way with him if you’re too overwhelmed.” Santi went on to explain that his best friend had trouble with stuff like this, showing his affection and feelings in wake of traumatic events.

That you should try not to worry too much, though he knew that was easier said than done. To not take it personally, but he admitted to knowing that might be hard to do as well, everything so much at the moment. He reminded you that you could reach out to you with anything at any time. He would try his best to be there for you in any way that he could. Even jokingly offering to pepper kisses over your face and approaching you with overly pursed lips until you erupted into a laughing fit at how ridiculous he looked as he loomed closer. He sealed the conversation with a genuine press of his lips to the corner of your mouth, his hands cradling your face in their warmth before he moved back to his seat and ordered you to eat.

Across town, Taylor and Frankie had a similar conversation as a bell dinged above them where it was nestled in the doorway to a shop front. The two men determined to surprise you with something that Frankie had quietly brought up one night following your first rush into emergency surgery. An approval of sorts he had been seeking after was granted instantaneously with a smile and words of encouragement from the only other man he felt like he could share the conversation with at the moment.

“Discharge papers should be processed by end of day, looks like you’ll be spending the night in your own bed.” The doctor offered you a small smile. She had been worried about having you under her care when she found out you were a once trained medical technician, knowing how bad of a patient she was when sick herself. But you had surprised her, not talking over her or voicing opinions on what needed to be done. It had been another week, progress made in physical therapy.

You were able to walk the length of the parallel bars, slowly and with a lot of huffing and puffing. But it cleared you for outpatient treatment. The feeling in your legs was spotty, coming to you mostly in the mornings when you first woke up and at the end of the day after resting for a few hours. Something she was only mildly worried about, muscle atrophy from being unconscious for so long lingering even now.

But she had been confident that the feeling would come back completely, though she was honest when she said she was worried about numbness flaring up.

That’s how you found yourself seated in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck as he pulled into the drive of his house. He was waiting for the garage to open, in order to make it easier for you to walk straight into the laundry room instead of having to attempt to tackle the stairs to the front door. Everyone would be over tomorrow, to celebrate your release. Giving you a free night to settle in and mentally deal with the shift in environments. Lex would be at her grandparents so Frankie could focus on getting you settled.

“One moment, just…want to get something set up before I help you out, okay?” His earnest gaze widened his beautiful eyes, watching you and making sure you were alright to be left alone for a moment. He was through the door and back in the garage in a matter of minutes, a shy smile aimed at you as he helped you down and got a walked ready for you. It had a cushioned seat in the middle, in case you needed to take any breaks when trying to move about. Something you wanted to argue but didn’t have a good one against.

You felt…weird. Having to rely on him so much, but extremely grateful that he was willing to. You’d seen friendships and relationships fall apart with this much stress and similar situations. Both as a professional and a civilian, as a friend. You only hoped this wouldn’t be one of the last things he did for you before telling you it was too much, that you were too much. Love could only encompass so much before it wasn’t enough to hold two individuals together.

Melancholic and depressive thoughts abundant as you tried to come to terms with what the near future would hold for an unknowable amount of time. There was no timeline with things like this and that’s what worried you the most. What if you had flares of numbness for the rest of your life, what if he began to see you as a burden, as work he had to come back to after doing his shifts at the mechanics and his flying tours. What if all your progress was meaningless and you woke up one day with no feeling at all?

He had hushed you on more than one occasion with soft words, promises he wouldn’t do that. Promises that he was yours, that you were his, that you were in this together. But doubt crept in regardless. Even more so in the realization that he hadn’t wanted to kiss you. He was quick to dodge your advances, placing placating touches of his lips to your hair instead; of pulling you tighter to his body instead. Almost as if he was hesitant to show you affection in that way and it was hard to handle when all you wanted was that type of comfort from the man you loved so completely.

His hands were warm as he supported your weight, but he didn’t shift you down to the ground completely, instead he pulled you flush against him. Your own arms tightened around his neck, feet barely touching the ground as he ducked his head to kiss you fully for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed. You melted into him even more, welcoming his lips against yours reverently, desperately.

The plush give of them against your own feeling like a true welcome home.

Shifting your hands up into his soft hair, you knocked the cap clear of his head as you parted your lips for him. He held you tight, not risking you putting too much weight on your own feet for even a second as he kissed you again and again, lips meeting yours in a dizzying display of his unfettered affection. Pulling at his curls, you pivoted his head to deepen another kiss, desperate for his touch and his taste. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly, watching the way his face was completely relaxed. The lines of his age smoothed out slightly as he moved to peck one last kiss to your slick lips.

He had set the table up before picking you up, at home during the day as he had received your hopeful text about the paperwork this morning. But he had run inside to pull everything from where it was keeping warm in the oven, lighting twin tapers set in the middle of the dining table. You tried to hide the squeal of surprise as he lifted you up completely, choosing to carry you bridal style over the threshold of the house and through the laundry room and into the kitchen.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do all this.” You placed a kiss to his cheek as he carefully set you down into a chair, making sure your legs were situated how you wanted them. “I woulda been happy with a fast-food drive thru, you know that.”

“I know, but I wanted to do something special for you.” He moved over to the closest chair, settling down into it with a sigh. He looked nervous, you realized as you took in the dinner had had made before picking you up. One of your favorite dishes filling the kitchen with its tantalizing scent. The boys had snuck in food from time to time, but it had mostly been bland hospital food for a majority of the last three weeks.

Frankie cleared his throat, your eyes lifting from the items on the table and toward him.

In his hands was an emerald velvet box, open to reveal a simple gold band with a sparkling rhombus diamond in the middle.

Your lips parted, a gasp falling from them as your heart stuttered hard in your chest. Hands dropping the utensils you had just picked up clattered to the table and you stared across the table at him. At a complete loss for words as he nervously shifted in his seat and leaned closer toward you to take your hands in his own, the small box set down gently beside your plate. His hands were shaking slightly, his nerves obvious as he bared his soul to you with his next words.

“Sweet girl, I know things are going to be touch and go for a long while,” He took a deep breath, chest pulling the fabric of his shirt taut with the action. His tongue peaked between his lips, a habit you noticed when he had a lot on his mind, and he was trying to sort through everything. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything to do with us, with you and me. You have me, you have me until the moment you decide you don’t anymore. I hope you don’t ever change your mind because I’ve been gone on you since the second you aimed that glare in my direction all those months ago. Will- will you do the honor of marrying me?”

Tears welled up the longer you looked at him, his eyes so wide and open, his voice cradling you with his earnest words. All you could do was nod, voice caught in your throat.

He let out a deep exhale, pulling a giggle from you when he broke out into the widest, goofy smile you had seen on him yet. You mirrored him, lips pulling as you squeezed his hands and leaned forward to rest your forehead against them clasped together.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Fransisco. Of course.” You kissed the tops of his hands, one and then the other before you were pushing yourself up slightly, tentatively placing weight on your legs and surging forward to kiss him.

He only let you get away with one before he was standing from his seat and kneeling in front of you with the box in his hands. He carefully removed the ring from its spot nestled safely inside the velvet cushion and you held out your left hand for him. It took a second for him to place it securely on your ring finger, snug and perfect against your skin. It glittered in the candlelight and you felt a tear run down your cheek.

Frankie’s hands came up to cup your face, his lips connecting with yours as he chuckled breathlessly at having managed to pull out the surprise proposal. At your resounding yes. At the prospect of a concrete future with you.

“I love you so much, thank you for...for everything.”

“I love you too, you dork,” Your laugh sparkled against his parted lips. “I can’t believe you just thanked me for agreeing to marry you.”

“Well, you could’ve said no.”

“Not in a million years.”

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taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

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pixelatedraindrops · 3 months

Text

Hello everyone!! Today I grow a year older :3 (and I hate it lmao) FEEL FREE TO REPLY BIRTHDAY WISHES IF YOU WANT :3

So, over the time I've come back here, I've become pretty confident and proud of my once hidden passion about sick characters, sickfics and sick comfort/whump... 🌡️

And you all have been so supportive and sweet despite my weirdness so I thank you for that. You helped me feel more confident in my otherwise weird fixation <3 So, for my birthday I thought I'd try and make up a little drawing challenge for anyone who wants to give it a try... There are soo many talented artists on this site (and in this fandom)

So... It's your turn to target your faves now. You will see how fun it is and hopefully understand why I love doing it so much. 😈🌡️

(plus it's my birthday and I require some sustenance LMAO JKJK)

But yeah anyone can join in. This is just for fun though! You don't have to if you don't want to! I think its okay to ask for some food on my birthday though...right?? X'D So if you wanna do sth for my birthday...then... 👉👈 💦

CHALLENGE BELOW~

DRAW YOUR FAVE ON A SICK DAY CHALLENGE🌡️😷🥵🤧

~~~~

(Mmmmkay, I am lying to myself when I say this isn't mostly aimed at the RainCode community... X'D Can't help myself. But anyone can join regardless of the fandom!!)

So here's the challenge and the rules!! (featuring my two main lil targets ofc :3)

Regardless of who it is, put your fave through some sickness hell >:3c I'd love to see it! Make em' as miserable as you want!

destroy them 😈 jkjk XD

If you're in the RainCode community you can target anyone, but as you know, my main targets are Yuma and Makoto. If they're also your faves and who you decide to use, that will make me extra happy!

Some tips for anyone new to drawing a sick day scenario art. A few things that make it look convincing are the following:

Pajamas or Loungewear

Messy Bed Hair

Fever flushed face w sweat or at least a red nose

Tired Eye bags

Shivery body

Ice Pack or a Compress on the head

Thermometer sticking from their mouth

LOTS OF BLANKETS

Tissues or medicine surrounding them

Tea or Soup (or both)

Those are just to name some from the top of my head. If you'd like some pointers on how to make a character look ill, check out my Fever Coloring Guide. This is for digital artists but traditional artists can try it too!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

The scene can be anything you want to, it can be fluffy and wholesome (with a caretaker) it can be angsty, or it can be silly. Its all up to you! Do it for the sake of fluff! Caretaking scenes are the best for any kind of relationship >w<

Either way, have fun with it!! I look forward to see what people make if they decide to give it a try! It doesn't even have to be a full on picture! Doodles and sketches are fine too! Just show me something >w<

(feel free to tag me and say happy b-day and mention my challenge, I am proud to be known for this and would love for many to participate :3) I wanna see you take a go at it :3 Show me your style! :D

~~~

(wow look at me misspelling the word writing on text when I did it fine with my own hands lol)

Now, I know not everyone can draw...

Well never fear! I accept writing as well! ✍️✍️✍️

(hi vivia lol sorry for giving you a cold, at least you have an excuse to read and do nothing now haha x3)

Sickfics are one of the biggest things I live for! Any little drabbles or full fics with more than one chapter are welcome! Again target who you want any fandom you want, but I'll def be super happy if you make a RainCode fic. And even happier if you target my faves as well, but again, anything will do! Just make a cute story about your fave being miserable and being tended to! Trust me, it's super fun!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

Feel free to post your writing here and tag me or mention my AO3!

If you need a start to your fic, look on my blog for illness prompts! Maybe it can help give you a good start or give some inspiration! (thats why I share 'em :3)

I look forward to anything you try to write!

That's about all!! I hope you decide to participate! ✨

Good luck, have fun, and godspeed you future whumpers! 😈

(nah jk XD)

AGAIN THIS IS FOR FUN! NO PRRSSURE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 1

Pairing Mob boss!Steve x single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Series masterlist

Warning: Steve is a slut (he will be through part of the series), talk of throwing up, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of cutting off hands, Elijah is our sweet boy (he deserves a bit of a warning) mentions of medication.

A/N: here we go with a new series! I know this is just the first chapter but the story I have envisioned is just ✨🤌��💋👩🏻‍🍳✨ both series and permanent taglist are open for 18+ only dividers related by the lovely Em @writing-for-marvel (originally made for is it a crime? But I thought they fit this fic!)

The sun hadn’t risen yet but you were already awake. There was a list you went over every morning before you could even step out of your small one bedroom apartment. It didn’t simply consist of making sure you had your keys, purse and phone with you, it was more complicated.

“Elijah,” you called softly from the side of your son’s bed. “Wake up my love.” You caressed his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. “Good morning baby.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Morning ma.” Elijah smiled sleepily at you.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good. I had a dream that I was riding on a giraffe but I was hanging on to it’s neck so I could see everything”

“That’s good baby, means the medicine is working. Did you have fun riding the giraffe?” He nods and you snicker while getting up to grab one of the many medications he’s on and prepare the first dose of the day. “Now, Mrs. Fields is going to be here in a few minutes, I already have your breakfast ready. All she has to do is warm it up for you. If you don’t feel sick afterward she’ll take you to school and pick you up after and then I’ll see you later tonight ok?”

“Ok.”

He accepts the medicine you give him and scrunches his face in disgust as the liquid goes down his throat. You sit with Eli for a few minutes and he sits in your lap, his face hidden in your neck. These little moments were everything to you because you weren’t sure why he was sick and if he’d survive it.

“Alright baby, I love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you to the moon and back ma. Have a good day at work.”

“Have a good day at school.” You smile and kiss his forehead.

In the living room you look over which medication needs to be refilled and you make an online request for them. Then you set a reminder on your phone to pick them up on your break. The door to the bathroom closes and you stop to listen to see if Elijah is throwing up but to your relief he isn’t. Soon enough the front door opens and Mrs. Fields walks in.

She had been your saving grace after moving to this new apartment. She lived in the building across the street and you ran into each other at the corner store. After knowing each other for a few weeks she offered to look after Elijah after school for you. At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea but if you wanted to keep the job you had there was no other choice. Once Elijah started getting sick she stepped up even more. Without her you’d be out on the street by now.

She smiles at you causing the wrinkles around her eyes and the laugh lines to deepen. Her salt and pepper hair is up in a twist with a clip holding it in place. The older woman holds out a cup of coffee and a bag for you.

“Here, breakfast and before you complain remember you have to keep your strength up too.”

“Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.” You take the coffee and the bag and hold it in one hand while grabbing your bag. “Eli took his medicine already and he seems to be feeling good. I think today might be a school day.”

“I’ll get him ready then. Have a good day at work and don’t worry about a thing.”

“Bye, call me if you need anything.” You say before heading out of the door and in the direction of the nearest subway station.

The house, or better yet, the mansion was quiet which was a relief. It meant you had enough time to change into your uniform and get a second cup of coffee. As you put away your bag in the locker your employer had set up in a room by the kitchen. Just like always, you were one maid short and the other was late considering her locker was wide open.

“Morning Dom.” You greet the cook as you enter the kitchen.

“Ah, my favorite coworker.”

“And apparently your only coworker.” You tell the older man.

Dominick has worked at the mansion for a long time before you ever started working there. He was in his early fifties with a beer belly, chubby cheeks, tattoos covering all of his arms and a bald head. Your favorite thing about him was that he looked deadly but was the sweetest man on earth. In a weird way he had become a sort of father figure in your life. He was only one of the two people that knew about Elijah’s existence at the house. The other being Coulson, the estate manager.

“She’s probably running late, you know how that ditz is. I don’t even know why they hired her because she isn’t good at her job.”

“You know why she was hired.” You bat your lashes at Dom and smile sweetly. “Oh no, do you think you could get that for me, my skirt is way too short for me to bend over. If I do, you'd know I’m not wearing any panties.” You say in a high pitched voice. Dom laughs as he makes you a cup of coffee.

“You are trouble, Mia Cara.”

“Only the fun kind.”

“What’s the fun kind of what?” Dom turns to the stove while you turn around to see your Boss’s best friend and right hand walking into the kitchen.

Long brown hair, steel blue eyes and a smirk that could make anyone’s knees weak. Bucky Barnes takes the seat next to you at the breakfast bar and smiles in your direction while he awaits an answer.

“Nothing Mr. Barnes. It was just a conversation between Dom and I.”

“Don’t be like that doll. I just wanna be your friend is all.”

You roll your eyes and stand to wash the mug you’d used. “I don’t need friends, I need to get started with work seeing as I’m the only one here today. Have a good day Mr. Barnes.”

“Why don’t you ever call me Bucky?”

“I’ll call you Bucky the day you stop calling me Doll.” You give him a fake smile and walk out.

“Have I done something to make her so standoff-ish?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. She just has her reasons, she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“She didn’t have an issue being friends with you.” Bucky says annoyed at the fact.

“That’s because I’m charming and the ladies love me. Especially Y/N.”

“There’s no way, her heart is made of ice.”

“Fortunately for the rest of us, not everything revolves around you. Now let her be if she wants you to be her friend, she’ll let you in.”

Bucky just scoffs and takes the cup of coffee Dom puts in front of him.

Steve groans as he sits up in bed. Usually he’d already be up and down in his office by this time but he’d spent the better half of the early morning getting information out of some idiot that thought it’d be a good idea to steal from him. The rest of the morning was spent with the newest maid in bed.

She was pretty but she wasn’t anything special. He regretted taking her to bed the minute she started writhing beneath him like if she was possessed. He was good, he was great even, but she was just putting on a show as if that would prevent him firing her after this. Steve looked over his shoulder one more time before heading into his bathroom for a shower.

****

Once he got into his office Steve saw both Bucky and Sam waiting for him. By Bucky’s face alone Steve knew he had something to say.

“You really need to stop sleeping with the maids.” Bucky said as soon as he closed the door.

“Why does it matter who I sleep with?”

“Because you keep screwing Y/N over and I like her. She minds her business, turns a blind eye if we come in bloody and bruised and doesn’t ask any questions.”

“You’re trying to be friends with her aren’t you?”

“So what if I am? I think it would be good to befriend her, make sure she really won’t spill the beans if cops come asking questions.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t want any of his men to be friendly with you. Mostly because he wanted you for himself. So if his men did in fact become friends with you, getting you into his bed would be even more difficult. If he got what he wanted, which he always did, Steve would have to fire you. It was written into the employment contract as a way to protect himself. Steve knew his best friends and right hand men thought you were sweet, he did too. It was in your smile the first day Coulson introduced you.

The first time he made a pass at you though he also saw how angry you could get and you shut him down immediately. In all honesty your attitude turned him on so much he ended up having to take care of his hard on before he could continue his meetings. It had been a few months since then and you still wouldn’t sleep with him. So Steve getting you in his bed became a game for him. He liked the chase and you gave him the satisfaction of not being easy. But he knew it would be a matter of time before you caved and once you did he would make sure to give you a hefty sum of money and send you on your way. It didn’t matter that you were in fact a really good employee. Or that he was starting to care for you more than he’d like.

“Stop trying to be friends with the people I hire.”

“She’s different and she isn’t going to sleep with you. From what I can tell she needs the job more than she needs to get dicked down by you.” Sam finally chimed in. “Also I agree with Buck, stop fucking every woman you hire. Get someone at one of your clubs like a normal person.”

“I do who and whatever the fuck I want. That’s enough for this conversation. Do you have the buyers lined up?”

“Yes, our only issue is the Black Order. They’ve tried to corner at least three of our runners in the last few days. If we make the sale we’ll need extra bodies to make the delivery.” Bucky said, leaving behind the previous conversation and getting into work mode.

“Have Barton and Romanoff come in this afternoon so that we can plan a few routes. And have Belova and Bishop come in too, I want them on this issue with the runners.”

After that the three of them kept going on with different deals they were getting ready for. The last few months the Black Order had been trying to take over the city. Something Steve had worked hard to do and maintain. He wasn’t going to let a bunch of nobodies take over and push him out.

You’d just finished dusting the shelves in the living room and were heading to the kitchen to get some water when you see Jessica, the other maid, walk down from the second floor wearing one of Steve’s shirts. She smirks in your direction and walks straight into the kitchen with you following behind.

“Dom, make me an omelet for breakfast.” She demanded.

Dom looked at her and then at you. You only shrugged in response and grabbed a glass to get some water.

“Shouldn’t you be in your uniform? Why are you wearing that shirt?”

“Not that I have to answer to you but I won’t be needing my uniform anymore.”

“And why is that?” He asks amused.

“Well a lady shouldn’t kiss and tell but after weeks of flirting and dancing around our feelings, Steve and I have taken a step towards starting a beautiful relationship.” She says with a smile before it drops and she glared at Dom. “So unless you want me to have Steve fire you, you’ll do as I say.”

You laugh at the last part of her statement and Dom joins in.

“What is so funny? And don’t think that I haven’t seen the way you look at my Steve. You’re already on thin ice so you better show me some respect.”

“Why should I show you any respect?” You say once you’ve calmed down.

“Because I’m the lady of the house now, that’s why.”

That only makes you both laugh more and she lets out a frustrated whine.

“You obviously didn’t read the employment contract before you signed it.” You say as you wipe a tear away. Dom was still laughing, red in the face. “Coulson is going to flip out. You know how he gets all flustered when he has to fire someone.” You tell Dom and that only makes him laugh harder.

“We’ll see about that. And you can consider yourself fired after this.”

Jessica gets up and stomps her way toward Steve’s office. You and Dom follow her and watch as she opens the door without knocking and you cringe. That was a big no-no.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve’s tone made it clear that he was pissed.

“Stevie, will you please tell Dom that he has to do what I say?” Jessica said in a sickly sweet manner.

You rolled your eyes when you finally stepped in front of the doorway.

“Why would I tell them that? Last I checked, Coulson was responsible for the house staff.”

“I know,” she walked around his desk and sat on his lap. “But since things have changed between us and I’m now the lady of the house-“ Steve raises his hand to shut her up.

Sam and Bucky snicker. The latter looking in your direction and you mouth ‘delusional’ which only makes him laugh more.

“Where did you get the idea that you were the lady of the house?”

“Well after last night I thought that we would be together. Also I want Y/N fired.”

Steve runs a hand over his mouth and down to smooth out his beard.

“I’m not going to fire her. Now tell me, you do know what a one night stand is right?” He says as he gently pushes her off his lap.

Jessica looks at him dumbfounded while Steve picks up his office phone and asks Coulson to come into his office. The older man walks in a minute later and sighs as he realizes what’s going to happen next.

“Phil could you please explain to Jennifer the guidelines in the contract and handle whatever else is necessary.”

“My name is Jessica.” She stomps her foot like a child having a tantrum. She looked around to see if anyone was going to speak up but when no one did she focused on you. “I bet you’re really enjoying this aren’t you? He’s going to do the same with you.”

“Why do you think I haven’t slept with him?”

“Jessica, could you please follow me?” Coulson says already over the situation. “I need a meeting with you later, sir.”

Steve just waves him away and Jessica stomps all the way out of the office. Dom follows but heads to the kitchen and you remain where you are. Your attention is on the stairs as Jessica goes up to get her clothes so you don’t notice that Steve has moved to stand in front of you. When you look back he’s too close for comfort. You place your hand in the middle of his chest and push him back.

“I want a raise.” You say as you cross your arms.

Steve smirks as his eyes roam your figure and you roll your eyes.

“And why should I give you a raise?”

“For starters I’m doing the job of three people because you keep getting your dick wet with everyone Coulson hires. Also I’m a damn good employee. I deserve a raise.”

“You know I could just take care of you. All you have to do is say the word and I’d give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

You lean to the side to look at Sam and Bucky who are further in the office. “Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately for all of us, doll. I mean Y/N.”

“You should have given me a heads up on day one Buck.”

He smiles, happy that he’s getting somewhere with you.

“I��d rather keep my job. So the raise?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for a million fucking dollars.” You scoff. “Oh and I get to help Coulson hire the next two employees.”

“You’d make a good lady of the house and you would never have to lift a finger again.”

“Just get tested often.” You scoff. “Get it through your head. I will not be sleeping with you ever.” You say and you turn on your heel and leave.

Steve groans as he closes the door. His forehead rests against it as he tries to ignore the fact that he’s hard, again, because of you.

“I really like her.”

Sam agrees with Bucky as Steve turns to look at both of them with a scowl on his face.

“Just give her the raise, she deserves it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sits behind his desk again. “Where were we?”

You ended up working until at least 7:30 because you were the only one but at least it was some extra money for you. Fortunately the day was finally over and you were grateful for that and the fact that it was Friday. That means you had two days to be at home with your baby to take care of him the way you wish you could all the time.

“Hey Mrs. Fields, how did today go?” You asked as soon as you walked through the door.

“Apparently school was very good. They had some type of group project to work on. And he seems to be feeling very good today although he did lay down for a little nap around five.”

“Ok good. Here you go.” You place some cash on the table in front of her. “Thank you for everything.”

“Please take this back, I’ve told you that you don’t have to pay me. I have my husband’s pension.”

“It’s the only way I’m comfortable with you doing so much for us. Please just take it.”

“Fine, but I’m still not going to use it. If you have an emergency just know you can come to me.”

You appreciate the gesture but you worked hard so that you didn’t have to depend on anyone. It was a lesson you learned the hard way when you found out you were pregnant at sixteen. Elijah’s father disappeared and your family turned their back on you for being a so-called disgrace. Not so long after informing your mom and stepdad of the pregnancy they kicked you out. They said they couldn’t have you giving your younger stepsister a bad example. So your entire pregnancy was spent in a shelter for women. The first few months of Elijah’s life hadn’t been easy but you figured it out. You were able to finish high school while working at the same time. It was shitty pay but it was something and you haven’t stopped working since.

“I’ll never tire of saying it Mrs. Fields but I really appreciate you.”

“Oh honey, you’ve given this old woman something to look forward to. If it wasn’t for you and Eli I think I’d lose my mind all alone. Now why don’t you get some rest.” She pats your back gently. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

You lock the door once she’s left and head toward Eli’s room. Sure enough he’s sleeping and considering it’s evening he’d probably sleep through the night. Some of the medication tended to make him drowsy. You sit on the couch with the intention of taking off your shoes and checking your bank account so that you can pay some bills before showering and changing into pajamas. Instead you end up asleep, it was where you slept every night anyways.

“Ma.” Elijah calls out just above a whisper but it still startles you awake. The first thing you think is that he doesn’t feel well but when you sit up and look at him, he gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ok baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. You just never came in to say good night. Then I woke up to use the bathroom and saw you asleep and you weren’t in your jammies.”

You look down and groan, causing Eli giggles.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll be right back.” You do as you said but took some extra time to let the warm water relax your muscles a bit.

It was almost midnight and yet your son sat up on the couch waiting for you. There were two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with chips and two cups of milk waiting on the coffee table. The couch also had the sheets, pillows and blanket you used all set up for you.

“What is this?” You ask as you sit down and turn on the tv just to have something on in the background while you talk.

“I set up your bed because I know you’re tired. I didn’t have dinner and I know you didn’t either. You take care of me so I can take care of you too, ma.” He said before you could protest. “Also Mrs. Fields made something but it didn’t look good so I just said I was tired and that I’d eat later.”

“So you lied?” You ask while before taking a bite of the sandwich Elijah had made.

“I didn’t want to be mean and hurt her feelings.” He frowned as he thought of his action.

“It's ok baby, I understand why you did it but we’ll talk about that later. Now this is the best Pb and J I’ve ever had. Maybe you should make dinner more often.”

“Wait until you try my cheese sandwich.” He smiles.

“If you keep it up I’ll send you to one of these cooking shows for kids. They would love you.”

“Gordon Ramsey would lose his shit if he had my cheese sandwich.” He laughs when your jaw drops.

“Elijah!”

“What? You say it all the time.”

You glare at him playfully and he just laughs more. “That’s a good point, maybe you’d be better as a lawyer.”

“I don’t like arguing. It would probably get boring because I’m pretty sure I would be right all the time.”

“At least you’ll be humble.” You chuckle.

After you’ve finished eating Eli crawls onto your lap. Fortunately he still likes to be cuddled. You put on some show he likes and when his breathing has evened out you carry him to bed and tuck him in.

You clean up quickly and lay down on the slightly lumpy couch. It doesn’t take much to fall back asleep although your back will ache lightly the next morning like it always does.

“You have got to stop.” Coulson said as he walked into Steve’s office late on Friday night. “How many more times am I going to have to deal with the same issue? It’s been at least fifteen women this year alone and it’s barely June.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he was scolded yet again for the same reason. Still he kept his mouth shut as Coulson paced the length of his office.

“And I swear you better stay away from Y/N. She’s the best damn employee I have and if she leaves because of you I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok tough guy why don’t you sit down before you fuck up my floor.”

“I’m serious Steve, I know that you want her because she’s giving you a run for your money but please back off. I need her here because she keeps to herself and she won’t run her mouth with what she sees. And I know she won’t run to the cops because she needs this job more than she needs more problems.”

Steve perks up at the last part of the of his statement.

“What problems does she have?”

Coulson closes his eyes as he realizes what he’s said. You had trusted him with the information about your son in hopes that if you had to leave suddenly it wouldn’t affect your employment. Of course you had asked that he wouldn’t say anything, especially to Steve or his friends because you were afraid they might use your son against you.

“Normal people have problems Steve. Mundane problems that you’ve probably haven’t had since you became the king of New York.”

“Wait a minute, if something is wrong though I want to help her. Me wanting to sleep with her had nothing to do with that. You know I want the people that work for me well taken care of. So what is it Phil?”

“I can’t say,” Coulson shakes his head. “She asked me not to say anything and I’ve fucked it up already. Just stop trying to sleep with her, Y/N really doesn’t need to be harassed every single time she comes in to work. She’s a good kid.”

Steve studies Coulson’s face, seeing how genuine he’s being with the request. He nods, accepting what he’s been told. But the moment the door is closed he picks up his office phone and makes a call.

“Hey Parker, are you busy?” He asks one of his younger associates.

“No, do you need me for something boss? I can be there in a few minutes.”

“You don’t need to come in but I have a job for you.”

“Anything sir.”

“I need you to follow Y/N and tell me if anything is going on with her. I think she might be in some trouble and I want to help.”

“Miss Y/N, boss?” Peter sounded unsure of the request.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No sir, it’s just… she’s really nice and I wouldn’t want her to not trust me if she finds out that I was following her.”

Steve wonders what exactly it is that you’re doing to have his men question their loyalty to him.

“Then don’t get caught.” With that Steve hangs up the phone.

Steve’s willing to do whatever it takes to figure out what’s going on with you. He doesn’t know when it happened but he can’t stop thinking about you. The side of him that he locked away long ago that believed in love and yearned for it is trying to claw its way out. You had done that, with your smart mouth and no bullshit attitude. He moved past wanting you in bed for a night to needing to know more but he was very good at shutting down whatever those emotions were.

Steve sat back in his chair, his mind racing and thinking of the worst case scenarios and how he would help you out of them. Maybe it was an abusive boyfriend. If that were the case it would be an easy fix. Just cut off his hands for even touching you.

The last thing on his mind is that you have a child. A sick child you’d do anything for. Neither of you are prepared for everything that would be coming your way. It would be harder still to realize you’d need each other if you want to survive.

Ch. 2

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captainremmington-13 · 3 months

Text

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova, her father, and Enolio. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Coriolanus spends the night at the Reginelle estate. While Bellova sleeps, he goes through her room and discovers many intriguing items, some of which he would have never expected to find.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER. It contains manipulation, swearing, and mentions of death and weaponry.

A/n: This chapter was so hard to write tbh😭

Bellova awoke on Sunday, two days after she’d fallen unconscious. Coriolanus was at her bedside, reading a book. When he noticed she was awake, he immediately called for the nurse and brushed her hair out of her face gently.

After the nurse checked her vitals and confirmed that she was alright, he went to summon the doctor so she could be cleared to go home.

“I feel so guilty,” Bellova whispered, looking down at her lap sadly.

“Why is that?” Coriolanus asked, checking the time on his watch. It was already six o’clock in the evening, and he wanted to get home in time for dinner with Tigris and Grandma’am.

“My father has probably been worried sick about me,” she said dejectedly. “Do you know where he is right now? I would really like to see him.”

Coriolanus took a deep breath.

“Oh, sweet girl…I hate that I have to break this to you.”

“Huh?” Bellova tilted her head in confusion.

“Your father is dead.”

Coriolanus did not get home in time for dinner.

Instead, he had to escort a distraught Bellova to the car waiting in front of the hospital to take her back to her estate. Between sobs, she begged for Coriolanus to come home with her.

“Please don’t leave me alone,” she said tearfully, clutching his arm like it was a lifeline. “I don’t trust that I won’t hurt myself. I need you by my side, Coryo.”

And Coriolanus, being the loving boyfriend he was, agreed instantly.

He opened the door to the back seat for Bellova before her driver could, and slid in next to her immediately after. He buckled her seatbelt for her, as she was too distracted to do it herself.

The driver started the car without saying a word. Coriolanus could tell by his stiff posture that he was on edge, but was holding his tongue.

The ride was…tense, to say the least. Bellova was trembling, clearly trying not to cry her heart out. Tears streamed down her face, dripping down onto her blood-red dress, the same one that Bellova had worn to his office just two days ago.

‘So much has happened since then,’ Coriolanus thought.

When the car stopped in the Reginelle estate’s driveway, Bellova didn’t move to get out. She just sat there, as if she was paralyzed by grief, which she probably was.

Coriolanus had to say her name twice before she turned her head slightly to look at him. He unbuckled her seatbelt and took her hand, helping her out of the car.

They wordlessly made their way inside the estate. Two Avoxes came to take their coats. The same butler that showed Coriolanus to Mr. Reginelle’s office just days ago, approached them. His eyes widened slightly when he recognized him, but did not express his surprise out loud.

“Miss Reginelle,” the butler said, his voice cracking slightly. It was clear to Coriolanus that he had been immensely stressed. “I am glad to see you awake and well. I…” he paused, looking down at his shoes. “I am so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you, Enolio,” Bellova said quietly. “I know you were fond of him too.”

Coriolanus briefly wondered how much she accurately remembered about her father.

“He was a good man,” Enolio said. “Generous, fair, and passionate. And he loved you so much, more than anything else in this world.”

Bellova’s eyes filled with tears again, which she wiped away quickly. “I know,” she said, sniffling. “He was the best father I could ever ask for.”

Coriolanus, who was growing increasingly impatient and anxious at the discussion of a man he had killed, cleared his throat. “Show us to her quarters,” he told Enolio. “She requested that I stay the night with her.”

Enolio looked like he wanted to protest, but didn’t.

He turned on his heel and lead them up the grand staircase, which was made of black marble and shone in the light of the grandiose chandelier hanging above. Bellova was still shaking, and Coriolanus could tell she was struggling to walk in her heels.

He would have carried her the rest of the way if he’d actually given a damn about her.

Finally, Enolio pushed Bellova’s bedroom doors open. “If you need anything, Miss Reginelle, just yell for me. I’ll be close by.”

Bellova nodded, giving him a hug. “Thank you.”

The butler looked stunned at this sudden affectionate gesture, but embraced her anyway. “You’re most welcome, miss.” Giving her a small smile, he shut the door behind him, leaving her and Coriolanus alone in her incredibly spacious room.

Coriolanus looked around, taking in his surroundings. He had never been in this section of the estate before, let alone Bellova’s quarters.

The aesthetic of the decor fit her perfectly - or at least, the old her, perfectly. The canopy draped over her bed was made of a sheer black material, and matched the black silk covers on her mattress. One of the walls was transformed into a massive set of bookshelves, which was filled with books and other priceless trinkets. A mirror almost twice the height of the doors was placed on the wall opposite to that, the rim inlaid with silver. The floor was made of dark grey marble, and was polished to perfection.

Coriolanus’s gaze traveled back to Bellova when she said his name softly. She had begun to cry again, which annoyed him. He really hated watching people cry, it made him uncomfortable. He was tempted to ignore her, they were alone and there would be consequences for doing so. But he needed to be affectionate enough to gain her unwavering support and devotion.

So instead of leaving the room, Coriolanus stayed with Bellova while she prepared for bed. She stopped crying, to his relief, and instead went completely silent. She retrieved a white nightgown from her walk-in closet and disappeared into her bathroom.

When Bellova returned, her face had been scrubbed clean of makeup. Coriolanus hadn’t seen her without a full face of makeup in at least five years. Her complexion was paler than usual, her grey eyes were puffy and red from crying, and her hair was damp and devoid of its usual curl.

She looked ghostly, which made sense given that the old version of her was dead.

She walked over to her bed without saying a word, laying down on top of the sheets. She still seemed to be in a trance-like state.

Coriolanus reluctantly walked over to her and kneeled down next to the bed. “You should get under the covers, you’ll get cold if you don’t.”

No response.

He sighed. Standing up, he slowly coaxed Bellova off of the bed so he could pull back the covers. She layed down once more, facing away from him.

Coriolanus thought Bellova would fall asleep right away, but was proven wrong when she rolled over to look at him. “Can you hold me while I try to sleep, Coryo?”

He was beginning to regret brainwashing her instead of killing her.

Pushing aside his violent thoughts, he slid off his shoes and climbed into bed with her. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. He hesitantly raised his hand to stroke her hair, and he felt her body relax slightly.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she murmured, her eyelids drooping slightly. “Thank you for staying with me, Coryo. I don’t know what I’d do without you, especially now that my father is gone…” She trailed off, her voice trembling pitifully. “All I really have is you.”

Coriolanus allowed himself to smile. If Bellova felt he was her only ally, he would never have to worry about her disobeying or abandoning him.

“I know,” he said quietly. “But I’m all you need. As long as you have me, you’ll be alright.”

She hummed in agreement, her eyes fluttering shut. And within minutes, she was asleep.

Carefully, Coriolanus lifted her sleeping form off of his chest, letting her body rest against the mattress. He climbed off of the bed, and ran a hand through his already messy hair. What was there to do now that Bellova was sleeping?

He looked around the room once more, his eventually eyes landing on her desk. It was the messiest thing in the room by far. It held miscellaneous books of all sizes, expensive-looking notebooks, various fountain pens, and loose papers in clumsily composed stacks.

Despite knowing her for more than a decade, she kept a solid wall between them that prevented him from seeing her true feelings. Perhaps looking through her personal items would reveal things that he could use to his advantage.

Taking a seat at her desk, he picked up the book at the top of the pile. It was called A Tale of Timeless Truth. It looked like a dark romance novel, judging by the cover that depicted two lovers standing in a cemetery. The one underneath read:

Coriolanus

by William Shakespeare

Coriolanus stifled a laugh, as not to wake the sleeping girl. Either it was a miraculous coincidence, or the old Bellova liked him more than she let on. He was tempted to look through the book, but was more interested in the several sheets of notes lying about.

After shuffling through them, he realized that Bellova had been quite passionate about the concept of the Hunger Games. She had written the outlines of concepts of rules, spanning from having a different arena each year to making the tribute interviews a bigger, more publicized event.

She also had rough sketches of strange animals, with hastily scribbled notes bellow them.

Mutations.

She was designing her own mutts.

Dr. Gaul had likely inspired her to do so. Judging by the lack of development and detail within the notes, she hadn’t presented the designs to the doctor yet.

They were solid ideas, ones that Dr. Gaul would be very impressed with. Coriolanus carefully folded the papers containing the rules and designs into small squares and tucked them into his pant pocket.

The other papers were filled with drawings, mostly of skulls and various flowers. The only one that stood out to him was a sketch of a rose. It was a beautiful picture, but quite macabre, as the petals appeared to be dropping in blood.

He decided he had to destroy that paper. He didn’t want Bellova to remember she had been fascinated by anything violent.

Coriolanus opened the drawers on the left of the desk, rifling through them as quietly as possible. There was nothing of interest in them, just a bunch of school supplies. When he opened the last drawer on the right, he spotted two black leather-bound books, decorated with elaborate patterns and inlaid with gold. One of them looked considerably older than the other.

He picked both of them up, setting them on the desk. He blew the thin layer of dust off of the older book, and opened it. In large but surprisingly neat handwriting, the words “Bellova’s journal” covered the first page. In the bottom right corner was the date she first wrote in it. Coriolanus quickly did the math. She was seven years old at that time.

He flipped the page, which revealed the first entry:

I’m not going to begin this with “dear diary”. That’s stupid. I’ll just write out my thoughts as they appear in my head.

Coriolanus bit back a smile. She had always been blunt, apparently.

I met a boy today. He tried to kick me off of my own tower at the playground. The audacity! He wasn’t willing even to share, so I pushed him. Daddy always says I shouldn’t be mean, but that it’s fine to put people in their place. And that’s what I did, so I don’t see it as a problem.

I think he is in my class at school. I recognize him by his blonde curls. I never payed attention to him before today, he never really caught my eye. But now I need to watch my back. I don’t want him getting in my way again.

Signed,

ℬℯ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓋𝒶

Coriolanus’s throat went dry. He knew he was the little blonde boy who she’d pushed down the stairs those years ago.

He turned to a random page. This one was written two years after the first entry.

I really hate group projects. I had to work with Clemmie and Coryo. What a nightmare.

Clemmie is alright. We get along for the most part, and sometimes we do each other’s hair. She can be bossy sometimes, which really gets on my nerves. I want to slap her sometimes, but Miss Inola would get really mad at me if I did.

Coryo is the one who gives me trouble. He thinks he’s so special because his last name is Snow.

But he has such pretty blue eyes. They sparkle like the finest diamonds in the light. His smile looks like sunshine itself, and his laugh is so cute.

It’s really a shame that he’s so annoying.

Signed,

ℬℯ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓋𝒶 ℛ.

At that point, Coriolanus was beyond intrigued. He had no idea Bellova found him attractive when they were children. She hurled insults at him constantly, and was hell-bent on one-upping him in class. Clearly, she was good at hiding her emotions.

At least, she used to be.

Quickly flipping through the pages, he stopped when an entry written in red ink caught his eye. This was written when Bellova was fourteen.

Today was an absolute mess, but it was fun to see the chaos unfold.

Arachne really thought she’d win the Dean’s Award for her perfect score on her algebra test. As fun as she is to gossip with, she can be quite an entitled bitch. She threw a tantrum in front of the entire student body. I just pretended not to know her.

Then Sejanus, the soft-hearted fool he is, stormed out of History. I think it was prompted by Demigloss calling district children “rats”. He’s such a sensitive boy, so I can understand why it got under his skin. But really, he should try to blend in more with the Capitol citizens if he wants to rid himself of the stigma surrounding his family’s past.

And lastly, Coriolanus won the Dean’s Award for academic achievement. The look on High-As-A-Kite Bottom’s face when he had off his name was priceless. I was sure I would win the award, but if anyone else truly deserves it, it’s Coryo. I hate to admit it, but his intellect far surpasses anyone else’s in the our grade. Except for mine, of course.

Coryo changed over the summer. In personality, he’s the same. He’s still competitive, smug, and somewhat reserved. But he looks different. He’s gotten taller, his voice is more mature, and he looks less…boyish. Dad says that he looks more like his father, General Snow. I’m unsure if that’s good or bad.

I really do hate that he’s taller than me now. I suppose I’ll have to get used to wearing heels every day. When he pointed out how he can look right over my head now, giving me that signature smug grin, I wanted to throw up.

It’s almost sickening how much I want to kiss him.

ℬ. ℛ.

Coriolanus was unable to stop himself from grinning.

Bellova really had been a lovesick schoolgirl all this time.

He closed the old journal and opened the new one. Bellova had recorded the date she received it: her sixteenth birthday.

He shuddered. He really didn’t want to remember her sixteenth birthday party.

Skimming through the book quickly, he realized she’d only written in it a handful of times. She probably got busy with the advanced classes she was taking at the Academy. He inferred this because he had been taking all of the same classes, and knew how heavy the workload could be.

The very last entry in the book was a short one.

I want nothing more than to slit Coriolanus Snow’s neck, and watch the blood paint his pretty porcelain skin red.

The fucking audacity of him to insult me in front of our entire class! I would’ve stabbed him with my pen if Sejanus hadn’t intervened. He’s just envious that I got a higher grade than him on our last rhetoric project. He’s fucking pathetic.

I don’t care for him anymore. His has his arrogant ass to blame for that. It’s his loss.

No matter how gorgeous or alluring he is, I will never allow myself to feel anything for him ever again.

I deserve better.

Signed,

𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓪 𝓥𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓷𝓲𝓪 𝓡𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮

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

Coriolanus spent hours ripping pages out of both journals. He removed anything that depicted her old personality, but left the entries that didn’t contradict Bellova’s new reality alone.

If anyone who didn’t know her read through the journals, they’d assume she was an average Capitol heiress.

He also went through her room and removed anything that could be used as a weapon, just in case Bellova returned to her former state.

He had no idea that Bellova owned so many knives. By the time he had thoroughly searched every crevice of the bedroom, his coat pockets were stuffed full of various small weapons.

He left her bookshelves alone for the most part. The only books he decided to take home with him were ones that included graphic content. He wanted Bellova to think she’d been innocent and pure.

He found a singular photo book hidden amongst lengthy tragedy novels. Inside was many photos of Bellova and her loved ones. Some were of her as an infant, others as a toddler. There were only a few of her around the age where she had formally met Coriolanus. This was unsurprising, given that the war was at its fiercest around that time.

Later on in the book were many pictures of her and Persephone, Lysistrata, and Diana Ring, taken during their fourth-to-last year of the academy. Bellova looked much older than fourteen in them. Perhaps it was the makeup, or the cunning gleam in her eyes.

The last two pages were filled with more recent pictures. One of them was a group photo of the senior class, taken at their very last Academy orientation. Coriolanus spotted himself and Sejanus standing next to each other, grinning ear to ear.

Quickly suppressing his guilt, he searched for Bellova in the picture, who he found quickly. Nobody else in the senior class had jet black hair and a piercingly sharp smile.

The photo that really grabbed his attention was the very last one, because he was in it.

Bellova wore a stunning silver dress, her makeup was more elaborate than usual, and her eyes were half-closed. Five empty glasses of posca sat on the table before her. To her left, Coriolanus had rested his head on her shoulder, and appeared to be asleep.

A vague memory flashed across his mind. A night full of laughter, posca, and luxurious outfits. Bellova giving him a captivating smile. Feeling the alcohol bring down his barriers, momentarily forgetting all of his worries…

Coriolanus shook his head, as if doing so would push the thoughts out of his mind. He removed the photo from the album and placed it so it leaned against the books on the shelf. He hoped that Bellova would see it and assume it was a snapshot of their “loving” relationship before she had “hit her head”.

He scanned the room once more, to ensure nothing incriminating was left. The aura of the old Bellova still remained, due to the gothic decor, but anything that suggested she was a violent person had been taken by him.

Satisfied, Coriolanus walked back towards Bellova’s bed. But he stopped in his tracks when he spotted a small table near one of her windows.

On it sat a framed, pressed black rose.

The very same blossom he had gifted her after the arena bombing.

He would have been stunned that she preserved it if not for what he’d just read in her journals.

Coriolanus picked up the frame. The flower was a perfect representation of the old Bellova: mysterious, macabre, and beautiful.

Opening the back of the frame, Coriolanus retrieved the dried flower. Silently apologizing to Grandma’am, he crushed it in his palm, practically reducing it to dust.

Discarding the remains in a trash bin, Coriolanus walked towards the bedroom door. He needed to go back to his penthouse, Tigris and Grandma’am were probably quite worried about him. Besides, he needed to dispose of the knives and find a place to hide Bellova’s other items.

He also had some work to do concerning the frame that had housed the black rose.

When he returned in the early hours of the following morning, it would contain a freshly-pressed white blossom.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! Things will get pretty intense in the next few chapters, because Bellova isn’t one to go down without fighting first…..

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#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #original character #thg prequel #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the capitol #tbosas

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