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shmaptainwrites · 2 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year.

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make.

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks.

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath.

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?”

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?”

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.”

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest.

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son.

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed.

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do.

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy.

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood.

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more.

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you.

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down.

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.”

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him.

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.”

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might.

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House.

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?”

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James.

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you.

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you.

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily.

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly.

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head.

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.”

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son.

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.”

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?”

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?”

“That’s not what I-,”

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.”

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment,

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.”

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son.

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest.

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU.

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son.

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold.

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most.

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally.

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked.

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head.

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.”

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area.

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.”

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.”

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?”

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.”

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked.

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor.

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,”

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated.

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.”

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented.

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked.

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James.

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?”

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together.

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.”

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.”

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs.

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands.

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.”

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said.

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed.

“No, no it’s not.”

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you.

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest.

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself.

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away.

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted.

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier.

“No, why?”

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?”

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked.

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?”

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.”

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him.

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news.

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle.

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to.

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own.

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed.

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian.

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes.

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe.

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand.

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.”

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours.

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings.

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.”

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled.

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process.

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off.

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.”

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him.

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.”

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up.

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period.

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.”

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face.

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.”

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station.

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators.

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food.

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.”

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head.

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.”

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party.

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done.

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital.

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital.

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh.

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.”

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork.

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it.

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand.

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths.

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked.

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.”

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.”

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted.

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late.

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time.

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.”

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private.

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!”

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.”

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?”

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?”

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.”

James placed his hands on his hips and said,

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,”

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.”

When he said nothing you continued.

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.”

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head,

“Okay,” he said simply.

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents.

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital.

“No, not this time,” you shook your head.

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together.

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?”

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that.

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up.

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening.

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end.

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?”

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.”

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked.

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.”

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying.

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,”

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside.

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.”

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen.

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea.

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.”

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass.

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.”

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded.

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.”

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding.

“These are all good ideas,” you started.

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?”

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.”

James shook his head.

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.”

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly.

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.”

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.”

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.”

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light.

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?”

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.”

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him.

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?”

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen.

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing.

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him.

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.”

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you.

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.”

James pressed his lips together and sighed,

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.”

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room.

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses.

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.”

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress.

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room.

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head,

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…”

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled.

“James I’m begging you-,”

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head.

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out.

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch.

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married.

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food.

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island.

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad.

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you.

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.”

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example.

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.”

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked.

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.”

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled.

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.”

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing.

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.”

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded.

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.”

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh.

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!”

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.”

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug.

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.”

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable.

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad.

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.”

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.”

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded.

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James.

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit.

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.”

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?”

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.”

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.”

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.”

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room.

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep.

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed.

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked.

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed.

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright.

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?”

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James.

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up.

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice.

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?”

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks.

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.”

“James-,”

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive.

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him.

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in.

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!”

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.”

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay.

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back.

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband.

“No,” he stated just as firmly.

“James-,”

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away.

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter.

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.”

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?”

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake.

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?”

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.”

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.”

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian.

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward.

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together.

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible.

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted.

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs.

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?”

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face.

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.”

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you.

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders.

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh.

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed.

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?”

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.”

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?”

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details.

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.”

“Promise?” Julian whispered.

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.”

“I love you guys too.”

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out.

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.”

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested.

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together.

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?”

House was silent so James explained,

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.”

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted.

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office.

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked.

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside.

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label.

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically.

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back.

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?”

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand.

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you.

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach.

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one.

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head.

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.”

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned.

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.”

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.”

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago.

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.”

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking.

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well.

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic.

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian.

“He does?”

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,”

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively.

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours.

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.”

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.”

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.”

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.”

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply.

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…”

You shook your head.

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.”

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son.

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.”

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect.

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job.

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing.

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle.

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.”

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins.

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.”

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked.

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.”

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.”

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself.

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine.

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other.

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.”

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page.

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look.

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes.

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo.

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.”

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added.

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant.

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy.

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous.

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again.

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel.

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look.

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you.

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked.

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph.

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp.

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head.

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face.

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications.

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies.

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red.

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower.

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head.

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening.

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.”

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son.

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless.

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained.

“And what were you doing up?” you asked.

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands.

“So, is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower.

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water.

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you.

“A bad dream?” he asked.

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs.

“Was it about us?”

He took your silence as a yes.

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned forward sitting on the bathroom counter.

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest.

“Would you tell me?”

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled.

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again,

“What was it about?”

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak.

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.”

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.”

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.”

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure.

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt.

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently.

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter.

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered.

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head.

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say.

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.”

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?”

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted.

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused.

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.”

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you.

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.”

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer.

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you.

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian.

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face.

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him.

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.”

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James.

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him.

“You don’t mind?”

“Just this once.”

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed.

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep.

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair.

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad.

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?”

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own.

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.”

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.”

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked.

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you.

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said.

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this.

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him.

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?”

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled.

You looked up at James and he shrugged.

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I could eat,” you nodded your head.

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested.

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?”

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go.

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings.

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married.

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch.

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow.

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you.

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink.

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?”

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized.

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you.

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.”

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired.

“Do I have to?” you asked.

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked.

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly.

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.”

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.”

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.”

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak,

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on.

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?”

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question.

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough.

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.”

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern.

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.”

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.”

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.”

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer.

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls.

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.”

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?”

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?”

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him.

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.”

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.”

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.”

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again.

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear.

“James,” you breathed.

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.”

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart.

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks.

“Jamie?”

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname.

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I count on you?”

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that.

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.”

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face.

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

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muddyorbsblr · 9 months

Text

save my room for last

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: the morning after 'a sizing mishap', hours before 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce'

Summary: One of the duties you're assigned for Soccer Aid Training Week is to run wakeup calls for a handful of players. Today you and your fellow staff members draw names for who you have to wake up.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish times [minors & pearl-clutchers, don't even try me i am not the one]; one (1) cuss word

Things to be aware of: cuddly clingy and overall menace bf Tom; cozy steamy times 🥴😮‍💨

The high-pitched scandalizing notes of your alarm pierced the quiet of your hotel room, effectively steamrolling your peaceful slumber in your boyfriend's arms.

"Too early," Tom grumbled, holding your naked body tighter against him. "Sun hasn't even begun to peek through." You fought the urge to snuggle further into his side and burrow your face into the crook of his neck as large hands freely roamed your back.

"I gotta go," you groaned, pushing yourself off the bed and trying to roll out of his hold, only making him let out a whiny groan and wrap his fingers around your thigh to pull you back to him. "Sweetie if I'm late I get whoever's left in the bowl for the wakeup calls." You had to bite your lip to hold back any reaction you had to his hand now lazily kneading at the back of your upper thigh, fingers traveling dangerously close to the part of you that was already most definitely awake and beginning to ache for him. Again.

"Not yet," he mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead, tracing the features of your face lazily in sloppy kisses. "Just a few more minutes, goddess."

Dammit, when he got all whiny and needy like this, combined with the gravel of his morning voice, it was damn near impossible to deny him anything. You'd be downright hilarious to even try. And yet here you were, doing exactly that.

"I'm really sorry, sweetie, but I gotta go," you mumbled, letting out a few giggles that were muffled when he pressed his lips to yours, already pulling you tighter against him and sighing out in contentment as he did so. "I wanna at least have a chance of drawing your name from the bowls."

"Hmmm…you as a wakeup call," he pondered, the tips of his fingers running lightly up and down your side. "But I already have that luxury. That pleasure. Why give that up now for the possibility of having it again later?" He tightened his hand around your thigh and pulled you on top of him, making you brace your hands on his chest. "Why don't we just enjoy the early morning…" he trailed off, running his hands up the side of your body and down to your hips. "Just like this?"

You let out a groan, leaning down to press a brief kiss to his cheek before making a motion to get up and out of the bed. "Because if we do this it could very well be my first and last time on the committee, which means that if you get called back next year, chances are I won't be working the event with you."

Stepping away from the bed, you held back a giggle from the sight of his absurdly long arm reach out for you before flopping down the side of the bed, fingertips barely grazing the floor. You had to turn around to focus on getting your clothes back on, seeing as the sight of his naked form stretching in bed with the sheets so haphazardly draped over him and barely covering him from the hips down served as quite the distraction.

Add to that the way that the sheets traveled down when he stretched, putting on a sluttish display of the well-defined Adonis belt that framed the smattering of hair from his belly button leading down a path you were all too familiar with. If you didn't look away now you would find yourself back in bed and taking him up on his offer, position in the committee and wakeup call assignments be damned.

Unfortunately you knew that you needed to be there when they drew names. You prided yourself in being fairly decent in reading people, and you saw how the other members of the committee eyed Tom. They would be there before the names were even in the bowl trying some way to rig the system and get his name on the off chance that maybe they would catch even a fraction of the glimpse of the view you'd had just seconds ago. The worst part was that you couldn't even blame them.

The only thing you could really do was make sure you had an equal chance of drawing his name, too.

You opted not to bother with your bra and underwear, seeing as you would end up showering when you got to the room that you were designated to share with two other members, Lilly and Simone, anyway. "Go back to sleep," you whispered into the relative darkness. "Whoever ends up drawing your name, just make sure you're fully ready because I don't trust them not to have a camera on them just to snap a picture."

"Will you do something for me, sweetheart?" he mumbled, seeing the silhouette of his hand raising as if reaching for yours in the dark. You put your hand in his once you'd slipped your shirt on, letting out a little squeal when he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "Save me for last if you draw my name. I'll barely see you between my practice and whatever gets assigned to you for the day. If I get even a few minutes having you all to myself I want to savor it until the last possible second."

"I promise," you said with a giggle, easing your hand out of his and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you headed out the door.

You tried your best to make as little sound as possible when you stepped through the door of your assigned room, not wanting to wake your roommates so rudely considering the ungodly hour. Of course, there was only so much you could do with the hinges of the door closer all but sounding trumpets at your return.

"Hmph…" Lilly groaned into the darkness. "There's no way it's already time for the briefing."

"Calm down, it's just me. We have half an hour, go back to sleep."

"Y/N?" Simone queried softly. "Bloody hell where'd you sneak off to? When you didn't come in last night we thought you fell asleep in the lobby prepping the media passes. Had half a mind to go out there and retrieve you so you could actually sleep on a bed."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'll have you know that I didn't pass out in the lobby, or a conference hall, or anywhere of the sort. My boyfriend's working the event, too. I spent the night with him." That announcement seemed to perk them both up considerably, both women sitting up from the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower and then we can all head over to the briefing together and see whose names we end up drawing."

"Please let me get Beck," Lilly whined. "My sister will be totally stoked and maybe I can even get him to greet her in a video or something." She was practically bouncing on her bed from excitement now. "Who do you two wanna get?"

"I don't much care who I get," you bluffed, blindly choosing an outfit from your suitcase. "What about you, Simone?"

"Asa," she answered without hesitation. "Absolutely adorable, that one." She then let out a stream of giggles. "I'll tell you who a handful of women would absolutely slaughter each other to draw, though. Heard them last night talking about how they were tempted to rig the bowls somehow just so things go their way and maybe they could get a glimpse of the famous bulge that Marvel needed to shell out some extra bucks for to buff out with CGI."

"Rig the bowls?" you huffed. "What're they gonna do, have Hiddleston's name printed in special textured paper so they can feel which one to pick out?"

"Upper level conspiracy material right there," Lilly joked. "I'd bet they'd try and trade with whoever ends up drawing him. Gotta admit, though. I wouldn't mind getting his name."

"Same," you and Simone murmured.

Twenty minutes later and the three of you stood among the other staff members in the briefing room, four bowls filled with paper strips lined up on a table in front of you, and the head of committee, Johanna, standing on the other side of the table with a clipboard in hand.

"Right then. Each of you step up, draw one name from each bowl, and hold on to them until everyone's drawn four names each, two from Team England, and two from Team World. Then and only then will you all take turns sharing the names you've drawn. No swapping." She looked at the members closest to the door, her gaze landing on you. "Y/L/N. You're up first."

Your heart was pounding in every part of your body the entire way through, hoping beyond hope that one of the scraps of paper that now laid in your hand held Tom's name. You watched as the other staff members approached the table one by one, some of them doing the sign of the cross before reaching their hand in, others outright expressing how they wished they'd drawn your boyfriend's name once the papers were in their hands. All the while you did your best to feign indifference, fighting against your body's knee jerk reactions of tensing your neck or glaring at them as if you were imagining what they'd look like if their hair suddenly caught fire.

Once everyone had four scraps of paper each, Johanna randomly called out your names, instructing you to share what was written on your respective papers. With each disappointed announcement came more blatantly optimistic expressions from the remaining members; Lilly proudly announced that she drew the TikTok influencer Beck, and Simone beamed as she read out the name "Butterfield".

You took a deep breath before opening the papers when your name was called, struggling to not show the relief that washed over you as you read out the names in your hand. "Bolt…Claflin…Scott…Hiddleston."

"Y/N name your price," one of the more outspoken members from earlier, Brynne, called out. "Come on, you'd still have--"

"Rules are rules, Brynne. You heard me earlier," Johanna's voice echoed through the room. "No swapping. You know your assignments. Meet back here at oh-eight-hundred to receive your designations for the rest of the day."

Passing through the wakeup call runs of the players from the World Team went off without a hitch, consisting purely of knocking on their doors, announcing your presence, and they were out within five minutes and off to the practice field. There was a tiny bit of an awkward interaction with Sam Claflin pointing at your neck and asking if you were alright because it looked "concerningly red", even wondering if it was a rash.

"Thanks for the concern, but I promise everything's fine," you answered him, not-so-casually moving your hair about so that it fell down in front of your shoulders and covered the area in question. "It's not a rash."

That got quite the reaction from him, causing fairly taller man to break out in chuckles and lightly shake a pointed finger in your direction. "You're quite the character. I hope whoever gave you that 'not a rash' appreciates that."

"I think he does," you quipped. "I mean we've been at this seven years and he doesn't seem bored yet so looks like I might be doing something right," you topped off with a shrug, heading to Jill Scott's room next. "Good luck out there."

"Lovely meeting you, Y/L/N," he said with a wave before heading off in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later you were knocking at the door to Jill's room, a ridiculous excitement slowly building inside of you and making you rock back and forth where you stood thinking about the next and final stop on your list before you had to return to the briefing room.

"Who is it?" you heard her call out from inside the room.

"It's Y/L/N. From staff," you said for the third time this morning. "Morning wakeup call."

"I'll be right out." A few moments later her door swung open, the woman greeting you with a warm smile. "Hey…Y/L/N, at the risk of sounding presumptuous or giving you cause of concern I have to ask you something."

Her premise took you aback, making you walk a little straighter and touch the ends of your hair, making sure that your neck was still considerably covered. "Pretty sure that just brought my blood pressure up a few points, but go ahead," you prompted her, trying to make light of the concern you were already feeling.

"It's just I noticed something whenever you passed by the field yesterday afternoon and--Ah screw it, best to just bite the bullet. You and Hiddleston…are you two an item?"

The question had your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. "Hmm? What uhh…what made you think that?"

"Well, if you two aren't a thing, I highly recommend letting the lad down easy because he looks at you like those videos of pets when they see their owners come home. Wide dopey eyes and like his heart wants to burst out of his stupidly wee jersey. That is the most irretrievably in love man I've ever seen with my own two eyes."

You didn't even bother to fight back the smile that stretched across your face. "We uhh…we are. I won't be letting anyone down easy today because honestly I'm so in love with the man it's borderline painful," you confirmed to her with a little shrug. "I may also be the one responsible for that tiny jersey currently fighting for its life. And the shorts. We're just trying to keep things a bit…less public, you know?"

She clapped her hands together loudly, suddenly looking victorious. "I knew it! For the record, you two make a lovely couple. His face lights up whenever he'd steal a glance your way yesterday. And when the other ladies from the committee try to chat him up, it's like he barely even registers that they're paying him any attention. You caught a rare one."

Her testimony on how he behaved when you weren't around had your heart swelling. If there was one thing that was eating away at you, it was the insecurity you felt knowing exactly who you were with and how much more objectively attractive those women that practically draped themselves over him were. And the fear always lingered in the back of your mind that one day he'd wake up and realize exactly that.

"I know," you choked out. "I really lucked out with him."

She pointed down the hall, starting to make her way to the elevator. "Am I last on your list or you have to make a few more stops?"

Your smile grew even wider, basically giving the answer away already. "No uhh…there's one more. Saving him for last."

A deviously amused toothy grin stretched across her face. "Ah, I see I see. Well I won't keep you. I'm sure you're excited to see him again."

You made your way back to Tom's room as fast as you could short of breaking out into a jog, practically power-walking down the halls until you rounded the final corner to the hallway where he'd carried you in his arms just the night before. Nearly even began to skip on your way there until you saw the small group of people that were waiting just a few doors away from his, the one closest to your destination being Brynne.

"Uhh…are you all waiting for your assigned players to get out or…?" you trailed off, already straightening your stance, deepening your voice, and taking on a posture that you only really dished out once in a blue moon. In private. With Tom.

Everyone but Brynne stepped away from their relaxed positions against the wall and walked back toward the elevator. You eyed the audacious, slightly taller auburn-haired woman expectantly. "Come on, Y/N. Be a team player here. Every time I've worked an event that involved him I don't even get the chance to be anywhere near him, I'm asking nicely please trade with me. I'll give you Payne--"

"Ew," you cut cut her off, not backing down from your 'boss lady-slash-domme' tone. "Shouldn't have led with that, Brynne. I mean I kinda feel for you that you got Mister more than big enough for you luv, when in fact I've been to children's parties that served vienna sausages bigger than what the guy's packing--"

"Exactly!" she empathized, letting out a chuckle and reaching for your hand as if to form a bond between you two. You knew better, though, and moved it just out of her arm's reach, knowing full well that the motion was meant to reach for the keycard you were suddenly holding tighter in your fist. "So please? Be a pal and let me shoot my shot?"

You did your best to keep your jaw unclenched, fighting every urge you had to make a show of this particular wakeup call and reveal the very blatant reason why you would not be helping her 'shoot her shot'. "You know, Brynne, I really wish I could help you but…it's my first year here and I really don't wanna get on Johanna's bad side by disobeying her 'no swapping' rule." The conspiratorial smirk on her face dropped, now eyeing you with incredulity as if you'd given her a resounding slap right to her ego.

With her more or less out of your way, you walked over to Tom's door and knocked three times, same as you did for the rest of your assignments.

"Who is it?" his muffled voice queried from the other side.

"It's Y/L/N. From staff," you called out. "Morning wakeup call."

You could practically hear the smile on his face as he spoke again. "Am I the last on your list?"

Oh sweetie there's no list. It's you. It's only ever gonna be you, you thought to yourself with a smirk. "Yup. Last one."

"Please, come in then." The eyes of your onlookers widened the side of saucers at what they heard. "I'm nearly ready, I wouldn't want you to wait out there on your feet. Come in, catch your breath. Really, I insist."

You made a show of looking a bit perplexed at the offer. "O-Oh. Uhm…alright then." You turned to give your fellow staff members a casual look, shrugging before using the keycard in your hand to open the door and slip into the room, your cheeks and neck already straining from the laughter you were reining in as you saw the image that greeted you. "That is not even remotely 'nearly ready'," you playfully accused, motioning to the towel that he held around his waist, water droplets still running down his torso from the shower you suspected he'd just finished at most a few minutes ago. "What if someone else drew your name?"

Before he could answer, you held a finger to your lips and pointed at the door, then signaled toward your ear to tell him that there were people outside listening, or as you snidely put it in your thoughts, 'rummaging for scraps'. "Simple, darling. I wouldn't have invited them in," he answered in a more hushed tone. "I really should finish getting ready, though. Wouldn't want to let this wakeup call go on for longer than is expected of me," he said in a teasing tone, making a motion as if to turn around.

The air left your lungs in a disbelieving chuckle as he released his hold on the towel, the weighed down fabric falling to the floor with a wet sounding thud, and baring every inch of his gloriously naked form to you.

You had to force yourself to look away, gripping the edge of the dresser so hard that you were sure the skin on your knuckles turned white the second you caught a glimpse of the perfectly rounded cheeks of his ass.

That was monumentally easier back when he was mere feet away from you, and now nearly impossible with the way he walked right up to you, lightly wrapping his fingers around one of your wrists and leaning in to bring his lips closer to your ear. "I noticed you didn't have anything to put your hair up. I know how you get when your hair starts to stick to your neck," he whispered, lips lightly brushing across the shell of your ear.

He leaned in even closer, his slightly damp chest pressing against your shoulder as he reached around behind you with his other arm to tie a ribbon around your wrist. Your breathing hitched in the bach of your throat when he stepped even closer, working his thigh between your legs as he dipped his head and traced along your neck with the tip of his nose. "I uhh…I have to get back to the briefing room by 8…" you trailed off with a whimper, letting out a soft moan the moment you felt him press a kiss to your neck.

"We have time," he murmured, pressing another kiss on the same spot and smiling against your skin when you tilted your head and exposed more of your neck to him. He hummed into your skin, pressing closer against you, taking a deep breath as if he was breathing you in. "Is this a new perfume?"

His question, coupled with how he continued to press kisses along your neck, hands leisurely roaming your body as if you two had all the time in the world, put your mind in a haze. "It uhh…it is. One of the girls I'm assigned to room with suggested I try it out."

You began to grow weak in his arms as he kissed a trail down to your chest, his hands traveling to the back of your thighs to lift you up onto the dresser. "It's divine on you," he breathed against your skin, his lips kissing up to the other side of your neck and making you rest your forehead against his shoulder, struggling to take deep breaths.

When he started nipping and sucking at your neck was when you had to hold a hand over your mouth before you moaned so loud that everyone outside and maybe even the room above you would know exactly what was going down in this room. "What--"

"The mark on your neck looked lonely. Let me fix that," he whispered into your skin before latching his lips onto your neck again and proceeding to bite and suck a bit harder, causing you to press your lips to his shoulder and muffle your moan that way.

When you felt the all too familiar flames of your desire start to lick at your skin, your hands found themselves gripping at his back, struggling to remain cautious to not dig your fingernails in and claw at him.

"No," he grumbled against your skin. "Don't hold back, goddess. Sink your teeth into my skin. Mark me. Let me have you with me all day long." He weaved his fingers into your hair and moved to press his shoulder harder against you, as if urging you even more to leave your mark on him the way he was currently doing for you. His grip at the base of your hair tightened when you bit down on his shoulder, groaning into your neck a near euphoric sound that nearly sounded like a guttural 'thank you'.

You pulled away first, nearly gasping for air. "I have to be out soon or they're going to start gossiping about what they think is happening in here."

"They wouldn't be gossiping, sweetheart, because they would be correct," he shot back with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping back from you and finally letting you down from the dresser, giving you a soft smile as he fixed your hair to cover both sides of your neck. "I'll be ready in two minutes. Grab a water before you leave, you look a bit flushed."

"Menace," you murmured, scrunching your nose at him and giggling when he tilted your head up and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before walking back into the bathroom to actually get ready. You made sure to take a few extra seconds before walking back outside. No sense in letting a perfectly good view go unappreciated.

As you'd suspected, Brynne and the other staff members were still outside when you stepped out of the room, water bottle in hand. "Wow…" she droned at you, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you were going to nick anything from the room, you shoulda gone for something with a bit more substance. Amateur."

"Okay first of all, I didn't swipe this," you bit back, your tone from earlier suddenly making a return and causing a few of the staff members to flinch at the sudden shift in the room. "He told me grab one, said something about me looking 'redder than usual'. Second? If you have a problem with me being assigned to this particular player, take it up with Johanna. Because frankly I don't have the fucks to spare to deal with your petty toddler pageant behavior."

She stood in front of you gobsmacked, a small sound of utter shock escaping her when you made sure to bump against her shoulder hard when you walked past her as the door to Tom's room opened.

"Oh…I suppose you're all here to perform wakeup calls for your assigned players? Like Y/N?"

His words seemed to snap everyone out of their reverie and they haphazardly approached the doors and knocked, hollering their names and telling the person on the other side that they were there for the morning wakeup call. Your boyfriend let out a soft chuckle, subtly shaking his head at their antics and lightly touching the inside of your wrist before signaling for you two to walk toward the elevators.

"Am I mistaken or did I hear you using that voice you have tucked away for some of our more creative nights out here?" he asked under his breath, deftly swiping the bottle from your hand and bringing it to his lips to take a few gulps before handing it back to you.

"Had to," you answered before you finished off the contents of the bottle. "She was trying to make a move on what's mine."

That had him quickly wrapping his hand around your elbow and leading you into a more narrow hallway that probably led into the hotel staff's service walkways, walking you back against the wall and lightly gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Much as I adore it when you get a touch territorial, you do know that no one will ever succeed? There's no one in this world that can lure me away from you. I'm yours. Always."

You rose to the tips of your toes, bringing a smile to his face as he met you halfway, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. "I love you," you murmured against his lips, letting out a whiny whimper when you heard the footsteps of the other players and staff members about to round the corner.

"I love you, too." He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before you two parted ways and he went toward the elevator, casually greeting the other players as he met them. Meanwhile you made your way back to the briefing room, surprised to find yourself the first one there.

"Ah. Y/L/N. With fifteen minutes to spare, too," Johanna greeted you. "How'd you like to be assigned to set up for the Elementals video?"

You fought to keep back the sheer joy that you felt from the offer, the knowledge that you'd be seeing Tom again in a short while filling you with so much excitement you were itching to dance on the spot. "I'd like that very much. Thanks, Johanna."

A/N: I was supposed to have posted this yesterday during my birthday but I got sidetracked building a Baby Groot Lego set 😂🫡 There's about 4 more stories that take place during Soccer Aid week for these two and honestly I can't wait for y'all to see what else I have in store for them because they're precious menaces in love 🥹🥹

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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kitchenisking · 2 months

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February Fic Rec

Hey Guys, I'm sorry I'm so late this month that its already the next month😅 I went back to work this month and I have mixed feelings about it so there's that🫤 but at least there's faction - please don't tell my kindle, there's so many books on there that I got to read😓. anyway, happy readying everyone! enjoy the spring and remember to kudos and comment😘

Show Him The Love by scarlettletterr - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,911, sterek)

Everyone realizes Stiles is awesome, and actually gives him the recognition he deserves! For all his research, for his constant loyalty, for having awful stuff happen to him and always coming back for more, for trying to do the right thing even when people don't listen when they should.

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My gift for Meggplant, for the Glompfest. Hope you like it!

You feel like Home by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 24,300, sterek)

Five times Stiles gets abused by his boyfriend and and the one time everything falls into place, like it was always meant to be.

Maybe it was.

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

"Are you really just leaving?" Stiles asked him.

"Yeah? There's no point in me sticking around, we already did what we always do." His boyfriend said, fastening his belt and walking out of Stiles' room.

It Starts When You're Around by strobelighted - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26,406, sterek)

"Earth to Derek. You okay, man?"

Derek's eyes are drawn back to the guy in front of him, who's starting to look more worried now.

"I --" he starts, then swallows against the dryness. "Who are you?"

or, Derek gets amnesia

eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj - (Rating: T, Words: 1,195, sterek)

"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.”

The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?”

“Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.”

“Well, he just got home, so—”

Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture.

[or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss

Hide by dr_girlfriend - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,419, sterek)

Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn't really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he'd thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he's not so sure he's going to get over it this time.

Breaking A Rule by SinQueen69 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,426, sterek)

Anon on tumblr wanted: Hiya! Please with sugar on top write a Sterek fic where derek is a business man and Stiles is a horny cockslut that sends Derek nudes while at work and Derek is pent up and punishes him when he gets home. Daddy Kink, Manhandling, Strength Kink, Bruises, Spanking, Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, mentions of kittenplay?, verbal humiliation, gags! Tanks be safe and healthy

Soft Space by TuppingLiberty - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,492,k sterek)

This time of year, Derek has to face too many bad anniversaries - the fire, the deaths. Stiles understands when Derek has to take a break from being alpha, when he just needs his daddy.

Rated M for kink, but no explicit (or even mature) sex.

Kinktober day 4: Daddy (Starting Kinktober now so I can maybe finish in October this year)

How to Win an Argument Without Really Trying by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,288, sterek)

It started with a kiss.

Well, actually, it started with an argument.

no river, no rush by CoraRochester, ravenclawkward - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,351, sterek)

“You can’t marry me! I’m the worst choice. For one, there’s no strategic value to marrying a prince from Gajos—and if there were, I’d have been betrothed to you or Cora years ago. We have nothing to offer Beacon. I’m not even good at being a prince!” …

On the eve of Derek’s coronation, he proposes to Stiles.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,893, sterek)

Derek has liked Stiles for a really long time, like embarrassingly long. But he swore to himself that he wouldn't make a move on Stiles until he knew for sure that his feeling were returned because he refuses to force something onto the Spark.

Derek likes Stiles, Stiles likes Derek, but the Alpha is convinced that Stiles is still in love with Lydia and can't see the obvious dofus Stiles is being around him. Lydia intervenes just because she's sick of watching the two dummys not be together.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

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All These Years [Part 6: "The White Whale"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4k

a/n: This installment is entirely in Matt's POV! Probably one of the only ones in this series that will be. As I was writing I knew I needed to do a last minute title change to this installment, too, because it went in a different direction. Hopefully what you learn from this installment only makes everything in this series hurt so much more. There are end notes on this, too because I feel like you'll need it. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift

“This place isn’t so bad,” Foggy mused.

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s head turned, clearly taking in the view of the dive bar around them. It smelled pungently of must and mildew and clearly there had been a good bit of alcohol spilled and left to dry along the floors, but otherwise it was alright here. At least it wasn’t too loud. The classic rock music playing over the speakers wasn’t blaring like the pop music playing in most bars he’d gone to always was. It never failed to give him a headache and make him duck out early.

“Well it’s not that loud, at least,” Matt replied.

Foggy nudged Matt’s arm with his elbow sharply. Matt could hear the pull of Foggy’s muscles drawing his mouth into a smile. He wished he could work himself up into even a sliver of that excitement for tonight.

“Come on,” Foggy pressed. “It’s the first night in a while that we’ve gotten out and have been able to do something that doesn’t involve paperwork. And we’re getting the three amigos back together again! Smile, dammit!”

Matt’s focus dropped towards the table, his hand tightening around the neck of his bottle of beer. He hadn’t had a chance to see you in weeks, and it had been weeks before that, too. Landman and Zack had managed to keep him and Foggy plenty busy since the three of you had graduated a few months back. And he was happy to finally see you again–that is, he would’ve been if it actually was going to be just the three of you tonight. But no, you were bringing a boyfriend . The first one you’d actually ever had since Matt had known you.

And it had made him sick to his stomach thinking about it all day today.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” was all he could muster in response.

He drew his beer to his lips, taking a long pull. He was hoping to get at least a buzz going before the two of you showed up. He didn’t want to be sober having to listen to the way your body reacted to your boyfriend all night.

The truth of it was, Matt wanted you. And he’d wanted you since he first met you.

No, actually, that wasn’t accurate, either.

Matt had wanted you for an entire semester before he’d ever actually met you in the library. He had first encountered you on campus in the late evening. He’d overheard someone trip on the sidewalk farther up ahead of him, spilling their books and their papers everywhere. They’d quietly cursed to themselves as they knelt down to collect their things. Matt could tell they’d been close to tears, too. He figured they’d been having a bad day already as they quietly fumed to themselves while others just passed them by on the sidewalk, leaving them to pick up their scattered belongings alone.

But then you’d stumbled upon them, stepping off to the side and crouching down to help them pick up the mess without hesitation. You’d sounded sweet and gentle when you’d greeted them, offering them some kind words and a warm smile that Matt thought he could almost feel as he eavesdropped. He’d oddly found himself affected by you, taking a moment to pause on the side of the sidewalk, pretending he was checking a voicemail on his phone as he tuned into your interaction. He had felt like a creep but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

And then he'd been fascinated by you afterwards, your voice and the scent of you plaguing his mind. He'd spent weeks trying to run across you on campus again. He'd lied and told Fog he'd actually bumped into you that night since he was unable to tell him how he'd really stumbled on you. His heightened senses were a secret even to Foggy. But then he and Foggy had often talked about you afterwards–the pair of them had spent all semester referring to you as Matt's White Whale. He'd been relentlessly searching for you around campus whenever he wasn’t busy with his studies or on a date. But then he'd discovered you around the science buildings right before the beginning of winter break. Unfortunately you’d managed to disappear during those few weeks before the next semester started, Matt being unable to pick up on you again.

He'd then spent all of winter break telling Fog how he'd planned to linger around that building when classes resumed, hoping to catch your voice again–or in reality, the scent of your pheromones and the beat of your heart. He was certain he’d recognize both of them. Him and Fog had spent many a night throwing back beers and coming up with many amusing and ridiculous schemes of how Matt might actually have a chance to meet you.

When classes did resume that following semester, Matt had often frequented the science building in his free moments. And even though Matt had still gone out and enjoyed the attention of other women during that time–something that had been quite a thrilling contrast from his life before college, considering he’d come fresh from St. Agnes–he couldn’t seem to shake you from his mind. Many times he caught himself wondering where he could take you on a date, or what your favorite food might be. He desperately wanted to know what subject you studied. He wanted to know your name and how your voice sounded when you finally said his. He wondered what music you liked and what your shampoo would smell like if he ever had the chance to press his nose into your hair.

And then one fateful day when he’d been at the library working on research for a class, he’d caught the scent of you unexpectedly. His mouth had gone dry and his mind had momentarily gone blank in surprise. You were there. In the library. With him.

It had sounded like you were on your phone and making your way towards him. Matt had panicked, unsure in the moment how to actually catch your attention and strike up a conversation. In his haste to make sure his chance hadn’t disappeared on him, he’d abruptly stepped out of the aisle he was in, arms laden with books, and accidentally miscalculated how far away you were. You’d ran right into him and startled him in return, causing him to drop his books on the ground and your toe. He felt awful when he’d heard you shout but then he couldn’t resist the laugh at your strange outburst.

But when you’d actually looked at who you’d run into, Matt had instantly picked up on all the telltale signs of your physical attraction to him. The increase in your pheromones had driven him crazy and his nerves completely disappeared, that confidence he had with every other young woman he’d flirted with on campus quickly taking over.

He thought he’d had you that day. It seemed a sure thing when he’d asked for your number and you’d given it to him. But then he invited you over to his dorm a few days later on Saturday night. He had every intention to take you out on a date and bring you back to an empty dorm room–if he was lucky enough and you’d wanted that. Because God he had certainly been thinking about you in very sinful ways over those few days. His thoughts had been driving him wild and he desperately hoped sex with you would help ease those persistent and nagging desires. If he could just experience it, maybe you wouldn’t be clouding his damn senses and taking up so much space in his thoughts. Though he worried if he got a taste he’d just want more, like you were some sort of drug to him.

But you’d shown up early that night, and Matt hadn’t technically called it a date. He’d asked for you to ‘hang out’, which admittedly was what he always called it. Usually the women he spent time with knew what he meant, but you’d shown up early and Foggy hadn’t left yet. He’d inevitably introduced the pair of you, hoping to segue into you and him leaving–but you and Foggy had instantly hit it off.

You’d both bonded over a Red Hot Chili Peppers song Foggy was playing, apparently it being both of yours’ favorite song by them. And then that turned into a long discussion about music and the bands you’d both seen, which had led to jokes being shared. Your laughter had sounded amazing to Matt’s ears, but he’d sat there on the end of his bed dumbfounded. You and Fog had almost identical interests. You so quickly warmed up to him. And he could read your body’s reaction that night–you were eliciting all of the signs of attraction.

To Foggy.

While Matt was just sitting there on his bed, you were beside Foggy displaying every sign to Matt that you were interested in Foggy . Not him.

It had crushed him. All of those weeks of trying to find you, all of those nights of you plaguing his mind, and you liked Foggy . He hadn't even told Fog you were the White Whale ahead of time, hoping not to jinx things, but in the end things had wound up going awry for Matt anyway.

He’d tried to remain hopeful that he’d gotten it wrong, but then the pair of you began Saturday nights as a weekly thing. Both of you were always texting after that. And you always seemed so eager to come over to see him. Always spending so much time with him. And every time you showed up, you’d be giving off every damn clue that you were attracted to him. It only took a couple of weeks before Matt gave up and went back to what he’d been doing–sleeping around. He couldn’t have you, so he figured he’d have whoever else he could. And when Foggy had asked him about his White Whale again, he’d sadly told him it hadn’t worked out. He’d never mentioned the White Whale again.

Though it was always strange to Matt that you’d never done anything more with Foggy. Anytime Matt hadn’t been around for the Saturday nights the pair of you spent together and he had occasionally popped back in, you often reacted like he’d interrupted something, your body going into overdrive. But you were always studying or hanging out, never anything more.

It didn’t make sense until he’d finally gotten something like an answer out of you that one night he’d upset you at the bar. He’d had a brief moment of hope when he heard your body reacting as you were looking at him, wondering if it was actually him you were reacting to like that first time in the library. He’d somehow hoped in that moment that he’d gotten everything all wrong, that it was him that you somehow liked all this time, and in his haste to say the right thing, he’d said the wrong thing. Especially with that stupid comment about being your wingman. And he’d really upset you to the point that you’d left the bar early near tears. He wanted to chase after you but he had no reason to realistically do so–he wasn’t supposed to be able to know you were crying as you walked back to your dorm, but he did. So when Foggy had spotted Marci, he’d been thrilled to have an excuse to leave, dodging some woman who’d tried to sleep with him before hurrying after you.

But then you’d broke his heart again because you were upset over Fog. He couldn’t deny it after you’d admitted to only being seen as a friend by the person you had feelings for and then breaking down crying on him. Because Matt had been too thoughtless with his words and told you Foggy was chatting with Marci–the girl you both knew he’d been talking about recently. Why else would you have started crying? If you’d had feelings for him he was certain you’d have said something then and there with how he’d been trying to talk you up all night. Telling you any guy would be lucky to take you on a date–which obviously included him.

That night had cemented it for him. You were in love with Foggy. As much as Matt hated seeing how hurt you were sitting in the friend zone with him, he selfishly didn’t want to bring it to Foggy’s attention because he knew it would absolutely kill him to watch Foggy with you . The one he could never get out of his head. He did his best to ignore it as the months and years went by, intentionally trying to ignore whatever your body was doing because it hurt too fucking much to listen to it.

When Elektra had come into his life, she’d certainly been the first one to come close enough to shaking you from his mind. He’d fallen for her fast and hard, especially when she saw every single dark part about him and still never turned him away. She saw him for everything he was–including his heightened senses that neither you nor Fog had any clue about–and she loved him for it. Or, he thought she had. And even she had pointed out how crazy you seemed about Foggy. How you were attached to his hip like a lovesick puppy she’d said. How you always spent all your time with him. Her words only further cemented it in his mind that he would never have you. Not as anything more than his best friend.

That knowledge broke him twice as hard when Elektra left. Because you’d been there for him, encouraging him. Being the absolutely wonderful, beautiful person you were. He didn’t deserve it, either. He’d been an asshole to you when he’d been with Elektra. He was still being an asshole to you when he continued to keep his mouth shut to Fog about your feelings–because he was selfish and never wanted to see you with him. Instead he’d eventually gone back to burying himself in a different girl when he had the chance, especially the closer it had gotten to graduation. He was afraid he’d lose you after the three of you graduated from Columbia, the dark thought constantly lingering in his mind.

He’d almost kissed you that night, too. That night it was just you and him cuddled together on his bed after graduation. The last night in your dorms. He’d been overcome with the urge to just tell you everything and kiss you, but then he’d caught the feeling of your panic when he’d so carefully cradled your face in the palm of his hand, desperate to finally feel your lips on his. To hear you tell him you cared for him, too. But all he’d felt was your fear in that moment instead. You must’ve realized he was about to say something, that he’d been about to possibly kiss you, and you panicked at the thought of it. Because Foggy was asleep in the bed across from both of you and you loved him . So he’d bit the words back and said the first thing that came to his mind instead of what he really wanted to. And it fucking killed him to do so.

Now, here you all were getting together months later, and you were bringing your boyfriend. Clearly you’d tried to move on from Fog, but that didn’t make things hurt any less for Matt. He hadn’t moved on from you. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be able to at this rate. And he certainly tried–he’d fucked a few interns at Landman and Zack, but none of them made him forget how it felt to wake up beside you that morning he had after Elektra had left him.

“Oh hey, I think that’s them!” Foggy said excitedly.

His words drew Matt back to this miserable moment, the sound of Foggy’s hand waving the pair of you over only deepening the frown on his face. He didn’t want this asshole here with his arm around you. Probably kissing you in front of him. He wanted to be the one doing that. Not this random guy who’d recently popped into your life and didn’t know you like Matt did. It felt wrong .

“Hey guys!” your cheery voice greeted the pair of them.

Matt quickly did his best to tune out the sound of your body and ignore the faint scent of your arousal that abruptly hit him when you’d reached the table. His hand tightened around his bottle of beer again. Your boyfriend’s scent was mixed with yours and it didn’t sit right with Matt. It pissed him off, actually. For some reason he really wanted to hit this guy.

Foggy greeted you brightly with your name and then he felt your eyes land on him expectantly. The smile noticeably faltered on your face, he could hear it in the way your muscles shifted. Raising his head from the table, he forced a smile onto his mouth and greeted you with your name in return.

“Guys this is Liam,” you said, introducing your boyfriend.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Foggy exclaimed, reaching out a hand. “I’m Foggy.”

Liam reached out, accepting the handshake in return. Matt ground his teeth together as he listened to the interaction.

“I’ve heard so many stories about you both,” Liam was saying, his attention turning to Matt as Foggy released his hand. “You must be Matt, right?”

Matt knew Liam was extending a hand out towards him, he heard the air shift in front of him when he did. He also knew it was usually the polite thing to do to at least extend his own hand out when he introduced himself, allowing the other person to reach out and shake his hand. But he didn’t want to shake Liam’s hand. He didn’t want to be his friend. He didn’t want him here .

“Yeah, that’s me,” Matt replied.

He heard the way Liam’s hand awkwardly lowered back to his side after a few uncomfortable seconds. He could practically feel the three sets of eyes on him. That had been rude, but he didn’t care.

“How about I get us a drink?” Liam asked, turning to you.

“Sure, that’d be great!” you responded. “A beer would be good.”

When Liam leaned towards you and kissed you, Matt thought he was going to break the beer bottle with how hard he was gripping the neck of it. He even caught the light tap to your ass before he’d sauntered off to the bar, wishing he could’ve been as oblivious to that as Foggy was. Or to the way it’d made you blush.

“You seem happy,” Foggy said, reaching across the table and playfully slapping your shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

“Good!” you answered, your tone bright. “The job’s gotten a lot better now that the stress of being the newbie is past. How’ve you guys been? How’s the internship going? Still busy?”

Foggy blew out an exaggerated breath. “ Exhausting . We’ve been drowning in paperwork and menial tasks, but there’s apparently two positions opening up in a few months and I think Matt and I are in line for it.”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, your attention turning towards Matt. “That’s awesome! You guys deserve it!”

Matt’s heart might have skipped a beat at the sound of your excitement for them. He noticed your eyes lingering on him. Probably because he was being uncharacteristically silent tonight. And rude.

“So how’d you meet Liam? How long have you both been together?” Foggy asked, bringing his beer to his mouth for a drink.

Matt could tell you’d nervously ducked your head at the question, tucking some hair behind your ear. It was cute. You were cute. He wished you acted like that when asked about him instead of Liam .

“Just a couple of weeks,” you admitted. “It’s still new. I actually met him at a coffee shop–or, technically outside of it. We sort of grabbed each others’ drinks on accident. He was the one who’d noticed, I was just hurrying to get back home for work. He’d had to chase me down a block.”

You laughed and the sound was like a knife to Matt’s heart. You liked this guy. And that fucking hurt.

“He was sweet and had some terrible jokes,” you continued. “For some reason he asked me out to dinner and then, well–” you shrugged, “–here we are now.”

You cleared your throat, your attention nervously darting to Foggy and then back to himself before you ducked your head again. Matt’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses curiously, wondering what that had been about until you spoke again.

“So uh, are you two seeing anyone?” you asked.

Your tone was pitched higher than usual and Matt instantly guessed the reasoning. His eyes closed behind his glasses, his heart further sinking in his chest.

You still liked Foggy, didn’t you? He’d never have a chance with you.

“Well it turns out Marci is actually interning at Landman and Zack, too,” Foggy replied. “But uh, she still isn’t too interested in being serious. But I’m working on her!”

Your attention shifted to him, your heart having sped up at Foggy’s words. Probably upset because he was still pursuing Marci instead of you. He could sympathize with your heartache.

“And…what about you, Matt?” you asked, voice suddenly quieter.

He focused on you standing directly across from him at the table. You were gripping it firmly in both of your hands, your heart still beating a little faster after Foggy’s admission. He swallowed hard, trying to hide his emotions behind his glasses.

Still hopelessly in love with you.

“Ever the bachelor,” he said with a tense smile. “You know me.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond, but Liam had appeared at your side, cutting you off. He handed you your beer and you’d smiled when he’d kissed you on the cheek. Matt’s attention dropped back down on the table, his jaw clenched yet again. This was going to be a long night, he could already tell.

Maybe he could find an excuse to head out early. Claim he wasn’t feeling well or something. There was something he was thinking about doing tonight, something he’d recently picked up. The thought of it was sounding better and better the lower Liam slid his hand down your back. And it’d certainly be a better outlet beating an asshole who truly deserved it than your boyfriend. Plus if Foggy wasn’t at the apartment, well, then it’d be all the easier for him to slip in and out. Though he really needed to focus on getting his own place soon so he could keep his nightly activities private. He certainly couldn’t tell either of you what he got up to in the evenings. Maybe he’d just use the excuse to Fog that he needed his own place to bring women back to without having to constantly worry about a roommate. He’d surely buy that line. He already thought he was often out sleeping around as it was.

For the next half hour, Matt quietly drank down his beer, barely adding much to the conversation unless you or Foggy had directly acknowledged him. Shortly after he’d finished his drink, he’d made up an excuse about a bad headache. Despite the boisterous round of protests from you and Foggy, he’d departed the bar and made his way back to the apartment. When he’d gotten there, he’d wasted no time quickly dressing in the all black outfit he kept hidden in the false bottom of his father’s steamer trunk at the foot of his bed. Pulling the fabric of a mask over the majority of his face, he slipped out of his bedroom window, landing on the fire escape almost soundlessly. And then he was off scouring the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, ready to loose the anger he’d kept inside of himself tonight on someone who truly deserved it.

[END NOTES--which are always on my AO3 fics and give more insight & I figured some of you might want it for this installment]

Reader has a boyfriend in here! And we find out Matt has had feelings for Reader long before that interaction at the library. And he's been repeatedly misinterpreting her body to think that it's Foggy she's reacting to instead of him (even if he's aware of the physical attraction she has to him), especially with the knowledge that she has feelings for a friend. Doesn't help that Elektra intentionally fed him lies to further push that idea into his mind. Not to mention, Reader does panic when Matt is about to kiss her on graduation night, and Matt completely misreads the reasoning behind her body's reaction. And these idiots both keep saying that they're each other's 'friend' repeatedly. Plus it probably doesn't help that Matt intentionally tries to ignore her body so he doesn't have to hear it reacting to Fog (when really its him). And clearly Reader is often misinterpreting Matt's reactions to things (and he's also hiding it).

There you have it folks. They're both hopelessly in love with each other and have been for years. But no one is opening their damn mouth. Now Reader is dating someone else.

Oh, and Matt is now becoming the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, if you didn't catch that. But Foggy thinks he's out sleeping around. And therefore Reader probably does, too.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock

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gatitties · 9 months

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The end?

─Yandere!bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: You're sick of all the chasing and you want to put an end to this whole game of cat and dog

─Warnings: toxic behavior, blood, obsession, stalking, suicide attempt, violence, yandere stuff

@epitios here you go!, and for everyone who was waiting for a third part too😌

Part One / Part Two

You collapsed on the floor of your apartment, your breathing quickening and gasping, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears so loud you thought your eardrum was going to explode at that very moment. You covered your mouth as you moved slowly to the closet, the front door opening.

"Dammit, you said this was the exact location, you useless Sanzu."

"Shut up, at least I've gotten enough clues to find something solid."

Rindou rolled his eyes inspecting your apartment, you swallowed dryly, trying to calm your panic attack, you slowly pushed a lever inside the small space, a small door opened next to you, you crouched down to enter through the narrow secret passage, closing behind you just as the closet doors opened.

"Nothing around here…"

"Look at this, at least we know someone has fled from here."

Rin smiled when he saw the almost cold food in the kitchen, a maniacal smile on the drug addict's face when he saw that he had hit the nail on the head, he supposed that you had escaped from them in time, but how much longer would you hold out? They were already too close. They both warned the others to search the surroundings but they couldn't find you, Mikey was starting to get impatient with this search.

You narrowly missed their radar since the guy with the stupid braid, as you knew Mochizuki, almost caught you sneaking through the alleys of the city. It was stressful, you were on the brink of collapse right now, you had spent five months playing hide-and-seek with this stupid mafia, you had practically given up the dirty jobs underground just to survive the Bonten executives. They pushed you over the edge because you never seemed to have more than a couple of days to have to find a new place or personality to adopt to throw them off, you had frequent nightmares, anxiety attacks, your life was turned upside down right now and you wanted to end all this shit.

You were young, definitely many years of life ahead, but you already felt rotten inside, you had experienced many things, pleasant and unpleasant, all this 'game' with Bonten only made what little sanity you had kept go overboard, your work wasn't a pleasant thing to do and now they've got your mind blown.

"Well, this will be the final point, I don't care about anything anymore, they won't need to look for me anymore, damn stalker psychopaths."

You looked at your figure in the mirror one last time with dead eyes, your favorite clothes on, all you had on you was a gun with a bullet in it, you left a note for the guy you rented the apartment from earlier that day, apologizing for give him so much trouble, you sent your parents one last message even though they didn't deserve a look from you, you felt that the fairest thing was for them to know that at least you wouldn't see them again even if they wanted to.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the imposing building, it's not like it was the first time you've infiltrated, the truth is that if you could go back in time you would choose not to have come that day and threaten those men to leave you alone, you only made things worse, but today you would put an end to it.

As you infiltrated like last time, everyone was gathered, confused by the message they had found while tracking you down, Kokonoi left the crumpled note on the round table after reading it.

"It doesn't make sense, run away and now ask to see each other? isn't that weird?"

Takeomi nodded, no one would be stupid enough to want to meet their potential kidnappers and stalkers on their own turf, but anyway, they were all prepared and armed depending on what happened.

"And if it is only a decoy?"

Ran straightened up in his seat, fiddling with his braids, Kakucho got up to look through the vents, where you came in the other time.

"Whatever it is we can only wait, it's not like she can go very far, we have contacts everywhere."

Mikey remained silent the entire time, the others talked creating theories of your next move, he just stared blankly, fleeting memories of you in his mind, you were just a whim, but he wanted you to bow down to him, no one had ever had the courage to threaten him so openly and escape for so long, you would be like a trophy to him, what happened next, he didn't care much.

His eyes moved slightly towards the restored window that you broke, remembering how your body rushed into the void falling into the darkness of the night, he narrowed his eyes when he thought he saw something strange move near the window, like a reflection of someone who didn't was in the room.

"The window…"

His murmur almost goes unnoticed if it weren't for the fact that everyone fell silent at the right moment, they almost broke their necks to look at the window, at that very moment they all covered themselves because the glass exploded, falling all over the place, again, you positioned yourself on top of the table with a dominant stance, even though your mind was thinking that in this situation you were anything but the one dominating the stupid game you've been playing for months.

"Catch her!"

"Don't touch me!"

You kicked Kakucho, moving to avoid Mochizuki's arms, holding everyone at bay until Mikey rose from his seat, ordering everyone to stay put, your chest heaving from the short but intense fight, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze of all those men.

"I think you came here to make a deal, right? We hear you."

The boss smiled when he saw that you lowered your guard, he knew that whatever you said he was not going to accept, right now, on his 'land', you had no say, you were under their control at this moment, he thought that you had abandoned, that you you were going to surrender before them like everyone else, they had succeeded, they had hunted you.

"Yes… I came to say some last words to the people who have finished ruining my life, it's something very important! so listen carefully, I won't repeat it again…" you waited a few seconds to give tension, everyone held their breath waiting for your words, almost anticipating a victory because they caught you in their clutches and that you would have given yourself up "Fuck you! If anyone is going to ruin my life it will be me! I hope we don't meet in hell, whores!"

You quickly moved your hand to reach for your pistol, clamped it to your jaw and fired, blood splattering on the faces of Mikey, Kokonoi and Sanzu, your body falling into the arms of the Haitani brothers, who carefully grabbed you.

"Fuck… that was close."

Rindou muttered seeing how you had only fainted, his brother had managed to reach you before you tried to take your life in front of everyone, he moved your body enough so that the bullet that threatened to dethrone part of your face and skull, only grazed your right cheek and ear, you would surely lose some hearing and you would have a new scar much more visible from now on.

They all looked at each other in silence, Takeomi had taken it upon himself to call a doctor to treat your injuries, they had already done it, there was no way for you to get out of their control easily, you had no way out, you were brave enough to face them a second time and attempting suicide in front of them, Sanzu was delighted by your performance, he couldn't wait to have you with him and all the things he could do, the others having a similar feeling, unlike you, waking up and finding yourself in that situation was not what did you imagine, being trapped with a group of psychopaths, you needed to get out of there no matter what, maybe your attempt to end everything was unsuccessful, but you can always have second chances, you don't care about the cost, you wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing you bow down to them.

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scremogirl · 6 months

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☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

#yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere! serial killer #✧✩🜚𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐂 🜸𖤐✰#☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

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wormdebut · 1 year

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The universe expands. Part One | Part Three | Part Four

The Daily Grind was Wayne’s baby and Eddie had spent many an evening in the industrial lobby as he got used to living with his uncle at age thirteen. Somewhere over the years, Saturday nights became open mic nights and Eddie would usually just drag out his acoustic, but occasionally his buddy from school, Gareth would join him and bang on whatever planted pot he could pull onto the little corner platform until he finally got a cajon.

Wayne had thrown him an apron at sixteen and he’d been working at the shop ever since. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had been roped into running the whole damn thing by 23 but here he was, and Wayne was somewhere in Indiana opening a fourth location, Eddie was happy for his uncle he really was, but he didn’t have a shred of patience for a customer who was out of line.

Yell at him? Sure, Eddie was a loud (both verbally and aesthetically) kinsey six gay man, that stood at 6’2 (without his boots, thank you) with a penchant for attention of any form; but yell at any of his coffee kiddos? You’ve got another thing comin’ Brenda. No one speaks to his little beans that way, especially not the smallest. Erica Sinclair, sure as hell could handle herself but Eddie was also rearing for an opportunity to kick someone the fuck out of his hallowed little coffee shop, specifically ‘medium single shot soy cappuccino absolutely no foam—no I don’t want a latte you dumbass can you hear correctly from down there’ Brenda.

Eddie had heard the woman from the backroom while he was dolling out pastries from the freezer. She was that fucking shrill, he was already rearing up, as Dustin popped his shocked head back through the door, “Um, Eddie?”

“Yeah Henderson, I heard it I’m on my way.” Eddie threw his long hair up in a messy bun on top of his head, having had taken it down while he was alone in the back and marched straight out to the lobby. God dammit, Brenda it was 7am and there were other guests to serve, “Brenda Brenda Brenda.” He shove his way between Erica and the counter top that Brenda was grossly leaning over to try and get into her face, and shut her up good and quick with a displeased stare that would scare the biggest of the bads.

“We’ve been over this sweetheart, I gave you one last chance, one,” he threw his finger up at her both to illustrate his point and cut off her response, “I’ve been making you your bullshit cappuccino for two years darling, and you know my kids are trained by me. They make the thing better then I do, and—nope I’m talking,” he cut her off again as she made to fight back. Eddie wasn’t looking anywhere but at this bitch of a women, however he knew there were people crowding in the lobby now. He didn’t care, “you can come at me all you want, but you will not ever speak to my staff that way. Get the fuck out and do not come back.”

Brenda huffed in exasperation, “I want the manager, Edward!”

Eddie’s laugh in that moment was pointed as he looked at Erica tucked behind his back and Dustin making drinks dutifully but watching from his side view, “Did you hear that squad? She’s wants the manager!” He snapped his gaze back to the angry ugly little stout woman in front of him, “I’ll do you one better, babe,” He sneered at here, “My names Eddie and I own the place,” Wayne would forgive him, “Get. The Fuck. Out.”

Brenda huffed as she turned on her stubby little heel, “I’m calling the city board!” She yelled as the crowd of coffee customers applauded her exit. Eddie laughed under his breath at that, Chicago didn’t give a shit about a bitch and her coffee vendettas.

“You good E?” He turned to his coworker and she looked up at him with her hands on her hips.

“You know I had it handled right?” He nodded, told her of course she did, but it never hurts to have support, and she kept up her confidence but muttered a quiet “Thanks Eddie”, as she turned around and joined Dustin on the second machine.

“Sorry about that guys, who’s next?” Eddie flashed a thousand watt smiled and whipped through the lobby of guests. Max was due in any second so he knew they would get the early morning rush cleared out fairly quickly regardless of the ridiculous interruption.

Eddie’s smile brightened at a duo he knew he hadn’t met yet, the lanky girl looked nice sure but damn he would’ve remember a boy that looked like this one, “Well hello Gorgeous.”

The boy who had a head of hair that truly rivaled Eddie’s own, and freckles splashed across his cheeks, flushed red and oh, Eddie wanted to devour him. His big brown eyes widened at Eddie’s forwardness and immediatley dropped to the floor. Eddie couldn’t hide the playful smirk on his face. The girl couldn’t help but let out a laugh, whether it was in solidarity or out of awkward tension Eddie couldn’t tell.

“I’m Robin and this is,” she gestures at the blushing mess of the boy that still had his eyes trained to the floor, “well this is just embarrassing, but he goes by Steve.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure. My apologies for the shit show earlier, why don’t I get you guys whatever on me yeah?”

Eddie was a sucker for a pretty boy, and he could tell they were both good people. She basically dragged Steve with her as they waited for their iced oat milk lavender lattes. (Eddie swears by them.) Eddie made sure to deliver them directly to the two and shy boy Steve managed a soft smile and a breathy “Thanks” and Eddie wanted to bite him, dammit. “

Bye, new friends have a safe day wherever your headed!” Eddie flashed them a grin and a wave as they left the shop, just as a flash of red hair zoomed past them.

“What did I miss, besties?” Max asked as she tied her fiery hair up in a messy bun to match Eddie’s.

“Oh you know,” Dustin spoke from the espresso machine, “Eddie kicked out ‘No Foam Cappuccino Brenda’, pulled the “I am the manager” card to defend Erica and I’m pretty sure he fell in love with a shy pretty boy?” He ends on a question and Eddie just tsks at him as he makes his way back to the backroom.

“Ah,” Max breathes, “Just another bright morning at The Grind.”

Taglist - @gay-stranger-things @savory-babby @trashpocket if you wanna be added or removed just let me know ✨

#I don’t know man Steve is very Bi but he is also very shy you get me?#eddie is neither Bi not shy #Eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #steddie #st4 fanfic #stranger things #Robin Buckley #worm brain #the daily grind au #I’m a tall eddie truther and I will die that way #Robin is an icon honestly #okay anyway enjoy whatever this is

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Yoongi

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. | Homesick

He's not sure what's worse- the fact that he now knows what's wrong, or the fact that he now knows he can't do anything to help you.

Tags/Warnings: Spin off, Doctor!Yoongi, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of hospitals, Mentions of a coma, major angst, slight fluff?, a lot of hurt, it's your daily dose of angst you masochists

Length: Drabble

There is no taglist for this fic

-> Masterlist

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There's not much Yoongi truly regrets. After all, he's a firm believer that even the bad things in life happen for a reason- it's all somewhat connected. It all leads you to the next step in life.

But if that's the case, then why did the world gift him you, just to have you taken away like this?

He knows it's only a matter of time until your body gives up. It's already happening, after all- your breathing has become less regulated, blood pressure steadily declining. He knows it's unrealistic to think that you'll forever stay in this state. You won't.

Even if you wake up now, you won't be the same. You'll probably have to fight the aftereffects and impact on your brain for months if not years. And that's a very optimistic prognosis.

The more realistic one would be to assume that you'll be a case of permanent full on care. If you ever wake up.

He dreads the question soon to be asked. What does he want to do?

Can he let you go?

In times like these, when being at home makes him homesick to the point of nausea, he tends to visit you, no matter how late. It's how he finds himself at your bedside again, steady tune of your bpm monitor reassuring him that for now, you're still here.

No matter how much of you.

Watching you sleep like this makes it hard to really comprehend that there's not much to do here at all. There's nothing he can do to help you recover because, at the end of the day, the diagnosis is still being studied.

He can't help. He can only hope.

Holding your hand has begun to feel odd now. Like a tune not played quite right, it feels off to just cling to your body like this, when your soul might've very well already left you long ago. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do.." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Or maybe he's just at the end of his hope.

Maybe he's the one losing this battle now.

"I know I have to let you go, but I don't want to." He shakes his head. "I didn't even get to experience anything with you." He sighs to himself. "Fuck.." the doctor wipes his face with his free hand.

He sighs again, and gets up to leave-

But your fingers cling to his own, holding a lot more tightly than usual. Maybe a simple muscle memory response- nothing to be excited about. He's learned to keep those feelings in check by now, after having been disappointed time and time again.

So he gently pulls your fingers away from his hand.

And you.. whine?

Your bpm is rising a little, machine complaining with a chime about the change in tempo, and he looks at you a bit more focused, noticing the way your breathing doesn't seem as calm as it usually is.

"No, you're not-!" He curses, turning the lights of the room back on. "You're not fucking taking her from me yet-!" He argues to no one.

When your fingers wrap around his wrist where his hand is pushing down on the hospital bed to gain better leverage to look at your monitor.

"No way.." he breathes out, leaning closer to you as he watches the tears run down your cheeks. It's not new that you're able to cry- you've randomly done that in the past, but during post comatose wakefulness, that's not unusual.

But he hopes. He wants to hope.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asks. "Is that it? Come on, you know how it works, give me an answer-" he begs in a whispered tone,

But nothing happens.

"God dammit what am I supposed to do?!" He breaks down, falling back into the chair next to your bed, finally breaking as he cries into the sheets.

And your hand is suddenly moving around again, as if searching for something, before it settles in his hair, on his head.

And as he lifts it to look at you, your eyes are open. But not just open- because that's what they've done for weeks now, time and time again, hurting him with every empty gaze.

Because this time, albeit a bit tearful-

They're not just open.

They're looking at him.

You're looking at him.

You're back.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #bts yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc

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naruto-imagines-and-headcanons · 9 months

Text

Naruto Love Languages (Akatsuki)

Pein/Nagato - Physical Touch

Nagato struggles with his public image and personal image. When he is around others he is a god, a highly power who will bring peace. He is held to such a high standard and that comes with a lot of pressure. Inside he feels like just another person, but knows he has to keep up the persona to execute his plan. When you join him in public he boosts you up as his equal, an equal god to rule with him. But when you two get away from others and back into solitude, Nagato just collapses into your arms and wants to stay there all day. Sure he was tons of paperwork to do, but god dammit have you see the state his body is in? He deserves ONE day off. Loves it when you let him lay down on your lap and you play with his hair. While he is definitely more touchy in private, you do notice that in public he will quietly snake his hand into yours and not let go the whole meeting

Konan - Gift Giving

Konan is stoic but very sweet. She's been hurt quite a bit and is afraid to reach out again. Even when dating you for awhile she occasionally catches herself getting comfortable and retreats a bit. You know she means well and understand her struggles, but it does get sad sometimes. Something that doesn't go away though is her gifts to you. Konan loves to make origami for you, and larger paper creations as well. Your favorite animals, your favorite anime characters, she even makes statues of you two together. Seeing your smile when you recieve these makes her heart soar. Giving you gifts is her one way to confidently express her love, and will bring out the most genuine smiles she ever gives

Itachi Uchiha - Acts of Service

Itachi has some issues showing his emotions more directly. He's a man of few words. But what he doesn't say in words he says in actions. He adores taking care of you. He misses taking care of a younger sibling, or just family in general, it makes him feel important. So caring for you feels just as good, even better since you guys get to kiss and cuddle and stuff. Itachi will always be cooking meals for you and picking up around the house. If you ever get sick this man will be at your side the whole time, I'm talking fresh soup and blankets. Sure he may be a full time Akatsuki member, but with you he's like a housewife. And he wouldn't have it any other way!

Kisame Hoshigaki - Quality Time

Kisame is the definition of loyalty. He is already loyal to his friends and teammates, but to you he is unwavering. He'll never lie to you, sell you out, cheat on you, nothing. You're the only one for him. You're so special and are so interesting to him. Spending time with you is bliss for him, even when you just sit around and casually chat. Kisame could listen to your voice and stare at your beautiful face for hours on end. You'll often find him just staring at you smiling sweetly (much to your embarrassment). He'll back off if you tell him to, but will be back at it the next day

Sasori - Quality Time

Sasori values eternity over everything, that's why he turned himself into a puppet. The passage of time won't affect him, and he doesn't want it to affect your relationship either. He's not big on talking or touching, it's more just existing with you that makes him happy. Whenever he works on his puppets he likes to have you in his studio doing your own thing (with the occasional small talk if you catch him on a good day). Sasori thinks in the long term as well, not worrying if you guys just spend a day doing nothing. You have years and years ahead of you, you can spend a day just doing nothing and relaxing. Just be aware he will consistantly try to convince you to become a puppet so you guys can really live for eternity forever

Deidara - Gift Giving

When you and Deidara started dating, he definitely was showing off awkwardly. I'm talking bragging about his achievements, hyping up his fighting skills, stuff like that. He's lucky he's cute cause he could kinda be insufferable lol. But once he got comfortable around you he mellowed out a lot. More genuine conversations, wider range of emotions and vulnerability, and more confident touches as well. Now he can hold your hand without freaking out. Deidara adores giving you gifts most of all though. His art is obviously the best, and you're the best, so you are worthy of it! His gifts range from tiny little birds that tweet your favorite song before poofing into smoke, or a whole giant dragon doing a show and exploding into colorful fireworks. All of Deidara's creations have tons of time and effort put into them to make sure they are the highest quality for you. Everytime there is a new surprise in his clay, and you look forward to it every day

Hidan - Physical Touch

...Are you surprised? Come on let's be real here. Hidan appreciates the more sinful things in life, and that includes your body. He's kind of a douchebag and you each piss each other off alot, but he DOES care for you. He wouldn't want any other partner, you're his favorite little shit and he couldn't dream of losing you. Not to mention this man worships your body. Everything about you is just perfectly carved by Jashin just for him. Pretty much anything you do will turn him on, you're just that sexy to him. Hidan has no shame and will actively start making out and feeling you up in public. Why should he have to wait to get home to ravish you, you look so good right here right now! And he isn't ashamed to show the world how much he loves you, fuck them all. If you manage to hold him off till you get home, the moment you walk in the door he is throwing you over his shoulder and parading to the bedroom

Kakuzu - Quality Time

Kakuzu isn't the most... romantic person in the world. He's a bit difficult to deal with, even in a relationship. Sometimes you wonder why you fell for this guy in the first place. But then he'll ask you to stay with him while he counts money and talk. The whole time he is attentive and engaged, surprising you with his sincerity. He likes to have you around him a lot and will sometimes drag you into the same room as him with no words. Just sit next to him and he's satisfied. Kakuzu is also protective of you more than anyone in his life. Most people he gives no shits about, just ask his previous teammates. But you don't annoy him as much and he found himself genuinely caring for you. So in return he will kill anyone who dares to threaten or hurt you. News flash though, you will always play second fiddle to money

Tobi/Obito - Words of Affirmation

Either persona he chooses uses words to show his affection, just in drastically different ways. As Tobi, he is waaaaaaay more open and extravagent about it. He is gushing about you all the time in front of everyone, constantly bragging about you during meetings, he will not shut the fuck up. The world will KNOW how cool and funny and hot you are. But when he is back to regular Obito, he definitely calms down. He is still very affectionate and vocal, but in a more private way. He saves this sincerity for alone time and very rare outings. These times he feels open to be vulnerable with you and enjoys telling you all the things he holds inside. So no matter what side of Obito you have, you are gonna be treated like a national treasure (Oh but uh, another problem with Tobi is that uh... nothing you guys do will be private. Everything is gonna be broadcasted to the rest of the Akatsuki, so get used to the group knowing what color panties you were wearing)

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Konoha 12 + Sand Siblings | Shinobi & Founders | Akatsuki

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #Pein #Nagato #Konan #Itachi Uchiha #Kisame Hoshigaki #Sasori #Deidara #Hidan #Kakuzu #Tobi #Obito Uchiha

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

Request: actor Steve??? Singer Eddie at the grammy's??? Eddie's band winning a Grammy & Eddie proposing to Steve accidentally in his speech???? & Steve crying and nodding yes but he is in tears & can't stand up??? Ok but then at the Oscars Steve actually proposes on stage because he had broken his leg & Eddie helped him on stage. But his proposal is the same as Eddie's because he also asks during his speech & Eddie cries and they get engaged again ❤️❤️❤️❤️

BABYYYYYY!!! NOT ONE, BUT TWO MARRIAGE PROPOSALS?! YES! PLEASE! I love the idea of Steve being prepared to propose to Eddie, has a whole plan, and then Eddie gets so emotional when he wins a Grammy that he does it before Steve gets a chance. Steve CANNOT be outdone, so obviously he does it too. We love love! - Mickala ❤️

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Somehow, against every odd, Eddie Munson made it.

Corroded Coffin, through hard work and a pinch of luck, were nominated for a Grammy.

They’d spent years climbing their way to the top (hard work) and finally got signed to a huge record deal when an agent saw them opening for a metal band at a festival (pinch of luck).

Their first album broke records in ways that hadn’t been seen since Metallica stepped onto the scene.

Their first tour sold out in minutes.

Their second album had a lot of hype to live up to, and according to the Grammy nomination, it far surpassed the expectations.

He hated that Steve couldn’t walk the carpet with him, but he was happy he was waiting inside with all the significant others of the band.

Probably already drinking wine and champagne. Maybe even shots.

Dammit, Eddie hated walking the carpet.

Steve was a fun drunk, but he was even more fun when he’d only had a couple. His filter shut off, but he wasn’t quite at the point of bitchy. He was silly.

Steve was rarely silly.

Fun, funny, happy.

But never really silly.

Not like Eddie was.

But after a couple drinks? Downright clownish.

Eddie tried to rush through the remaining interviews, and the guys could tell, throwing him shocked looks. Eddie loved the spotlight, so it probably was a little shocking.

When they got inside, they were stopped by just about everyone who lived on planet Earth.

Eddie was ready to grab Steve and run.

Fuck the Grammy.

But he couldn’t do that. This was a possibly once in a lifetime thing. Wayne was watching at home even though he “doesn’t have time to watch those stupid awards.”

If they did win, Eddie had to give a speech, they had to go to afterparties, he had to fuck Steve against the window in their hotel room.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of any of those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time.

He walked into the main room, suddenly overwhelmed by the crowd and the vast expanse of tables and seating and stage area in front of him.

He caught a glimpse of Steve at a table not too far away, laughing at something Jeff’s wife, Amy, was saying. She’d almost skipped tonight, her pregnancy far enough along that getting all dressed up didn’t sound remotely appealing. But then she’d heard Steve was going, and she’d called her sister to alter her dress immediately.

Gareth’s fiancé, Sam, was sitting away from everyone, still not sure of her place in the group. They’d had a bit of a whirlwind romance, and Eddie would be more worried if Sam wasn’t completely head over heels in love with Gareth in high school first. But she’d only just met everyone a month ago, and this was the first public event she attended with everyone. She was visibly nervous.

Grant’s wife, Savannah, was clearly trying to make conversation with everyone.

And Eddie knew that Steve and Amy weren’t purposefully making it harder, but they certainly weren’t making things easy for her.

They were laughing so much, he couldn’t even be sure they were laughing at something.

He sidled up to Steve’s side, plopping down in the empty chair to his right.

“Eddie! Amy’s here!” Steve smacked his arm excitedly.

He was at least three wines in.

“I see that, sweetheart. Hi, Amy.”

“Hey, Eddie. He’s drinking for two,” Amy smiled fondly as Steve took another sip of wine.

“And she’s eating for two!” Steve said as he reached out to touch her belly. “I can’t believe I don’t get to have your babies, Eds.”

Eddie snorted. Amy let out a loud laugh.

“I’m sure we can give it our best shot later tonight,” Eddie whispered in his ear, smirking to himself when he saw Steve shiver.

They all continued chatting, occasionally getting interrupted by guests: producers, musicians, agents, even some kids who were big fans.

When the show started, Steve was drifting. He’d had maybe one too many, and he’d reached the sleepy part of wine drunk a lot sooner than he should’ve. Maybe because he barely slept last night. Maybe because Eddie fucked him in the shower and the couch and the bed, and then woke him up early to fuck him on the counter before he had to leave for an interview with Good Morning America. He was tired.

Eddie was tired too, but he was used to a lot of late nights and early mornings over the last couple of years.

Plus, he was running on so much adrenaline at the thought of winning a Grammy, he was pretty sure he could stay awake for another 12 hours.

Steve’s head rested against Eddie’s shoulder, his hand entangled in Eddie’s.

For seven years, Steve’s been his biggest fan, his person, his everything.

And for three years before that, he was his best friend.

He was there at grungy bars, outdoor festivals in rain or shine, that one fundraising event at the mall that was a total disaster. He was front row at their first opening gig for a Midwest metal band, and front row at their opening gig for Ghost. He was backstage for their first headlining tour, in the studio when they recorded their first and second albums, and on the tour bus when he could miss work.

It only made sense that he was here for this.

He wanted him here for everything.

This wasn’t the first time he’d thought that, probably not even the hundredth. He’d wanted to marry Steve for years.

But Steve was focused on building his own career, and Eddie insisted that he do what he wanted to do no matter what Eddie did with his career.

It meant a lot of time apart, a lot of FaceTiming at weird hours of the day or night because it’s the only time their schedules would sync up, a lot of missing each other.

But they believed in their relationship the same way they believed in each other, and they kept making it work.

He had a ring. He bought it years ago. Wayne had it so Steve wouldn’t find it, but they’d already planned on him taking it with him on his next stop in Hawkins.

He let himself relax a bit. Had a glass of wine, then champagne, and a beer. Their category was almost the last of the night, so they were able to relax for a while.

Steve knew a lot of people in the industry because of his acting career, but he’d made it very clear tonight was about Eddie to anyone who tried to talk to him.

The night was long, longer than Eddie could really handle.

His nerves were through the roof and Steve had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

When their category was announced, Eddie nudged him awake gently.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m either about to be a Grammy winner or get a lot of great sympathy sex from you,” Eddie whispered in his ear as a camera guy settled in front of their table to get their reactions.

Steve was suddenly wide awake, the realization that this could be one of the biggest moments of their lives making him grip Eddie’s hand like a lifeline.

“And the winner for Best Metal Album is…” the announcer paused for dramatic effect. “Corroded Coffin with Reanimate!”

The whole room was cheering, but their table was going wild.

Steve jumped up the moment they said Corroded Coffin, jumping up and down and pulling Eddie up on his feet.

The next minute was a blur as they made their way to the stage, his boys surrounding him and clapping each other on the back excitedly.

They’d all worked hard for this, dealt with endless bullying in high school because their music was different, fought through the struggle of trying to appease bar owners and small town festival organizers with “softer” music so they could get in front of the right people. They spent thousands of dollars they realistically didn’t have to travel to places where metal was more welcome.

They had to take out personal loans to get studio time to record a demo and send it in to every record company they could think of.

Steve gave them 25% of his inheritance to buy their first tour bus because “it’s a good investment, and it’ll save money on hotels and eating out.”

When they got to the stage, Eddie realized that he’d have to speak.

Shit.

He’d kind of prepared a speech, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up too much so he’d just let it go.

“Uh, wow. Okay. Thank you guys so much!” He started. He could just barely see the faces of everyone at their table, but Steve’s beaming smile was enough. “I didn’t prepare much other than that because I just didn’t think we would win. I know we’re talented and we work hard, but this is the biggest award you can win in the music industry and we still have a long way to go to really feel like we can even be in the same room as most of these talented musicians.”

He was killing it!

“I need to thank these guys up here with me, all the guys who work with us in the studio, everyone who makes tour possible, my Uncle Wayne, who probably is crying but won’t admit it when I talk to him later.” Everyone laughed. “But I have to thank Steve more than anything. I think the guys would agree he’s been the guy there for us through everything. He’s not just my boyfriend, he’s our first and biggest fan. Sorry to all the wives and future wife at our table.” More laughter. “I don’t know where we’d be without him, but I really don’t think I’d be who I am if not for the way he loves me, the way he’s always loved me. Even when it’s hard, even when we go months without being able to see each other, we find ways to make us work. We keep doing the damn thing even when the damn thing is hard. I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and Wayne is gonna kill me, but Stevie, sweetheart, I can’t go another day without knowing. Will you marry me?”

The room erupted into cheers, the guys on stage jumping up and down. He saw the camera guy zooming in on Steve’s reaction as they broadcast it on a screen by the stage.

But Eddie didn’t need the screen. He could see the tears streaming down Steve’s face as he cried, his smile bigger than life as he nodded.

“He said yes!” Jeff yelled.

The crowd cheered louder as Eddie handed the Grammy award to Gareth and ran down the stairs back to his table.

Steve jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist.

Eddie’s hands immediately went to his thighs to support him, and Steve’s hands cupped his face.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Steve sobbed out.

“I can’t believe I haven’t done it earlier,” Eddie responded.

They kissed in front of the hundreds of people here and the possibly millions watching at home.

It was one of the best kisses they’d ever shared. The room around them went quiet, at least to them, as their lips moved against each other passionately, but with a gentleness they rarely had with each other anymore.

They pulled apart after a few more seconds, foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath.

Eddie gently let Steve down, using his thumbs to wipe away some of his tears and giving him a beaming smile.

“Wayne’s got the ring. I have a feeling he’ll be making us come for a visit very soon so I’ll put it on you then,” Eddie whispered.

The rest of the band had trickled back to the table to collect him for post-win interviews backstage, but he couldn’t go without one more kiss.

Steve gave it willingly, always giving love in whatever way he could.

“Okay, I gotta go answer some questions. We’ll be quick,” he said with one more kiss to Steve’s forehead.

“Love you. So proud of you,” Steve said as he pulled away.

“Love you so much!”

—---------------------------------------

Steve’s engagement ring glistened in the spotlight hitting their table at the Oscars.

The Oscars.

Steve Harrington, almost Munson, was sitting at the Oscars because he was nominated for two awards: Best Actor in a Drama and Best Actor in a Comedy.

Eddie was sitting next to him, somehow more nervous here than he was at the Grammys.

His leg hadn’t stopped bouncing up and down since they sat down 20 minutes ago. The other people at the table were luckily good friends and didn’t think anything of his anxiety.

Eddie never got nervous before shows, or interviews, or photoshoots, or even his award shows. But when it came to Steve, he was a nervous wreck.

Before auditions, before appearances, before red carpets. He was on edge whether he was with him or not.

Tonight was no different.

They’d had incredibly busy schedules after the Grammys, only seeing each once over the last three months. But Eddie had told his manager nearly six months ago that he would not miss this for any reason, that Steve supported him at all of his big events, and he wasn’t going to ask permission to support his fiance, he just was.

Except it turned into more of Steve supporting him as the night wore on, the realization that Steve could very well win both categories keeping Eddie strung out.

It was actually a little cute.

The comedy category was first, and he had tough competition. Anytime you’re going against people like Jonah Hill and the people at Disney you have to be ready to lose.

And he did lose. Well, Eddie kept saying “it’s not a loss, it’s just not a win”, which was really the same thing.

But Steve wasn’t as upset as he expected to be. Comedy wasn’t really his forte, he’d only done a handful of comedy movies and shows over the last few years, and none of them were major roles.

It was the drama he cared about.

He’d put his heart and soul into this film. It was regarded as the breakthrough queer film of the year, up for enough awards tonight to be considered an Oscar Sweep.

He never would have gotten here if not for the man next to him, so he could handle his nerves easily.

“Drama is next,” Eddie breathed out, his hand squeezing Steve’s knee.

“I know, baby.”

“What if you win? Oh my god, what if you don’t? No, no. You’ll win. This is your best work. Seriously, don’t know why I would ever think you wouldn’t.”

Steve smirked as the announcer started saying all the nominees’ names.

The camera focused on him was probably capturing a lot of Eddie’s mumbling under his breath, but luckily they weren’t mic’d up so it would be easy to explain away.

“The winner for Best Actor in a Drama…Steve Harrington!”

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Steve I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel them. Or my arms. I think I might black out, oh my god,” Eddie immediately turned to him with tears in his eyes.

“Baby, I need you to help me on stage. My leg’s broken, remember?”

And that was a pain in the ass. His last role required some stunts and Steve was an idiot and insisted on trying one for himself. It didn’t go well and he’s lucky it was just a broken leg.

Steve kissed Eddie’s lips softly, quickly, to get him to focus.

“Right! Okay,” Eddie stood up and held his arm out for Steve, who was using a single crutch to get around this evening instead of two. “Off we go!”

Steve giggled, and nodded at people clapping as they passed them on their way to the stage. Eddie was so busy looking ahead, trying to get him to the final destination safely, he missed the announcer making a joke about Steve earning the drama award by breaking his leg.

When they got on stage, Steve stood at the mic while Eddie stood at the side of the stage. He was crying, much like Steve had when he got his Grammy award.

“Sorry for taking my sweet time. As you can see, I thought I was able to do what stunt actors do and forgot that they’re actually very in shape and talented.” The room laughed. “Hey, no laughing, I didn’t win in comedy.” More laughter, louder this time. “I have to thank everyone who worked on this film; It’s truly one of those films that will continue to change lives. It was the most difficult job I have ever had, and I am so grateful for everyone who gave me the chance to prove that I could do it. I’d like to thank all my kiddos, who aren’t kiddos anymore, for all yelling at me in the group chat when I almost turned this down because I didn’t think I could do it. My agent, who goes through a lot of amazing opportunities but always manages to find the perfect one.” Steve looked over at Eddie and let himself finally tear up a little. “And Eddie. Can’t forget that guy. My support, literally.” He saw Eddie snort out a laugh between his tears. “Would not be standing here without him and not just because he had to walk me up here. Every time I thought about giving up, he made me go to one more audition or read one more script. Every time I’ve not gotten an offer I really wanted, he’s been there to remind me that there’s something better coming along. Like this one. I’d been turned down for a show I really wanted the same day I sent in the audition tapes for this role. I cried for hours on the phone with Eddie and he told me, I’ll never forget his exact words, ‘You’re meant for better and better will find you.’ And it did. But the best is you, baby. You’re the better that is at the beginning and end of all my days. I could never work again and I’d still be the happiest guy in the world because you’re mine and you want me just as much as I want you. Eight years ago, I was closeted, telling myself that the way I felt when my best friend hugged me was just because he was my best friend. Now, I’m winning an Oscar for playing a queer man in a deeply moving film about finding love for yourself even when love from others isn’t an option. I’m marrying you, that best friend who probably knew exactly what he was doing when he hugged me. And I know I’m wearing your engagement ring, and we’ve already set a date and picked the cake, but I feel like I should ask. Eddie, you’re the only one who gets me at my best, and you also get me at my worst and still love me anyway. Will you marry me?”

He watched as Eddie’s brain ran through a million options at once, finally settling on joining him at the microphone.

He pulled him against his chest, hand against the back of his head.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a yes. Fuck, yes,” Eddie sobbed out.

The crowd was cheering, and the cameras were circling around the stage getting every angle of the moment that they could.

“Next time you’re on this stage accepting an award, you’ll be Steve Munson,” Eddie teased.

“It’s got a nice ring to it,” Steve said against his shoulder.

They pulled apart enough to kiss, much like they did at the Grammys: soft, passionate, but slow.

“Do you have a secret ring hiding at Wayne’s too?”

“No, no ring. Just wanted to show the world I love you as much as you love me.”

“Oh, so it’s to show off. Got it,” Eddie poked him in the side, smirking when he laughed. “Get your trophy before they kick us off the stage.”

Steve grabbed his award, waved to the crowd with one final thank you, and let Eddie help him off the stage.

They were getting married in three months, honeymooning in four. They’d just bought their first house together, spent the last seven years renting apartments wherever life took them. They started talking about taking a break after Corroded Coffin’s next tour and Steve’s next movie so they could start a family.

They had so much to look forward to.

But most importantly, they had the backseat of a limo entirely to themselves on the way back to the hotel.

If they left a $500 tip for cleaning after, it was their business.

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