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#i get so panicky when i have to make phone calls like
fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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This week has really been one of those that has me straight up not wanting to leave my house or contact anyone or do anything because something seems to go wrong with everything I do
#in fairness i have managed to fix most of the things that went wrong. but not all! my god#it all started when i interviewed to get onto a course and they said they’d send the enrollment email within the day#*john mulaney voice* and then they DIDN’T#literally as i was drafting an email to be like ‘hi can i sign some forms now please’ they sent the forms#that was 4 days later. which is not bad at all. but then they demanded i have the forms back to them within 3 working days???#bitch you didn’t even get them TO me within 3 working days. monday-friday is 4 working days#i mean i signed them that night but it’s the principle of the thing#then there was the laptop debacle. i basically dropped off a laptop at an electronics shop to be sold and then never returned#because i didn’t know i needed to return. i thought they were going to call me. ended up sending a panicky message to support#i now have my £200 and they get to sell it for twice that 🫠 but w/e. at least i have money and no laptop#when i had the laptop i was like ‘i wish i had 200 money and no laptop’. and now i do so mission accomplished#THEN last but not fucking least; my boss reminded me to claim my hours for the month and i was like ‘oh shit yeah’#and managed to ✨lock myself out of my sharepoint account✨ because my keychain decided to just not save my new password#and i don’t know what the fuck it is. so now i have to go physically to work to call IT and be like ‘hi can i have a temporary password’#because they’ll only accept internal communications. which i cannot do. because i can’t get into my account and i don’t have a work phone#it seems very fitting somehow that on my first day at that job i spent an hour on hold with IT and on my last day i will probably once again#spend an hour on hold with IT. great#i’m hoping this’ll be fairly routine for them and that i won’t have to explain how i locked myself out because i honestly don’t understand#i’m also annoyed that i’ll have to text my boss like ‘hey can i come in and use a laptop’ because then she’ll have to Locate a laptop#also my walking pad is making disturbing noises. i feel like maybe i should oil it idk. i’ve literally only had it 2 weeks#but if they didn’t oil it before they sent it out i guess i can see how this would happen#i’m quite a bit under the weight limit so i don’t think it’s anything to do with my fat ass lol#that’s about it i think. OH and my sims 2 game keeps glitching but that’s a tale as old as time honestly#it was kind of funny earlier when i was like ‘i need a mod that stops people relaxing constantly’ and then i realised the house#had exactly 2 seats and 6 beds for a 6 person house. plus nothing to do apart from one tv; the phone and the worst bookcase#they’re GOING to lie down lmao#personal
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judasofsuburbia · 1 year
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“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.
“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.
steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”
a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.
“eds. eds, can you hear me?”
“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”
“who’s crying?” steve asks.
“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”
more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.
“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”
“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”
“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.
“got it.”
steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.
steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.
eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.
“help me,” eddie mouths.
“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.
“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.
“give her here,” steve says.
eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.
“what’s her name?” steve asks.
“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.
“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”
she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.
“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”
“probably,” eddie mutters.
“i’m going to anyway.”
steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.
eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“
“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”
eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.
cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.
so he decides to do it scared.
the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.
“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”
cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”
cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.
“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”
cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.
“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“
cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.
it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.
steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.
“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.
eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”
“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.
“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.
“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.
“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.
they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.
“you're magical,” eddie whispers.
“please,” steve scoffs.
“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.
”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.
”do what?“
”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.
steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“
eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.
”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“
”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.
eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.
”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“
”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.
”maybe but it wasn't enough.“
”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“
eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“
steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“
”i'm getting it.“
they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.
”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.
“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.
“thank you again,” eddie whispers.
“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.
eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.
“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”
“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.
”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“
eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“
”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”
eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.
“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.
that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.
when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”
(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)
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glorismorningstar · 7 months
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IMAGINE: YOU'RE LATE TO THE VEES' HEADQUARTERS ON EXTERMINATION DAY
"Four calls," VELVETTE said as she paced around the living room, running a hand through her hair as she tried to keep herself in check. She had given you a strict schedule to adhere to for today, and the worse has happened. You're late. "Four fucking calls and she hasn't picked up. Where the fuck is she?"
"Y/N's a big girl, Velvette. She's ten minutes late, it's not the end of the world." Vox thought he was doing good, but it only made her more agitated.
She turned on her heels to face Vox, hands firmly on her hips in an attempt to calm herself. "What the actual fuck are you saying? Do you know what time it is?! We have exactly one minute before the angels get here, and I swear to God that if she's not in here by then, I'll go out there and fetch her myself!"
"Before you make any rash decisions-" he couldn't even finish the sentence before the cries of terrified sinners and demons reached their ears. Velvette jogged to the clear window and smushed her face against the glass to look for you in the midst of the chaos.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She gritted in frustration as she felt her breath shudder and stutter, eyes desperately scouring the streets for any sign of you.
Her phone rang and she scrambled to pick up the call, relieved to read your name on the screen. "Where the fuck are you?!"
"Velvette, I'm- ah!" You yelped as you dodged an angel, running through the crowd to blend in and hide. You could see the Headquarters from where you stood. "I'm almost there!"
"Tell me where you are right now!" She demanded, her thick accented voice didn't leave any room for argument or mirth in such a situation. If something were to happen to you, she didn't know what she'd do.
"I'm in the crowd!" You spoke loudly to make sure she heard you through the phone in the middle of all the chaos.
Velvette ran over to the stairs and walked down as fast as possible, hoping to find you and drag you to safety. You could hear her yelling for Vox to find you with his cameras and her frantic stomps down God knows how many flights of stairs.
"Y/N?" She called out, standing on her tip toes to spot you.
You could see her standing behind the glass door, panicky red eyes combing through the giant hoard of sinners running for their lives. She hung up the phone and walked into the crowd, looking for you.
Your heart almost stopped beating when your eyes caught the blue, pink and white flash of her hair. It was dangerous, what the hell was she doing? "Velvette!"
You squeezed through the stampeding sinners and took hold of her hand. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be inside!"
"So should you!" She retorted, leading you back to the building. The way she grasped your hand like a lifeline, posture so tense and eyes wide with alarm as she pulled you to the Headquarters made you feel that she loved you more than she let on.
She tripped on a pebble and dropped to the ground, which made you instinctively shield her from the exorcists with your body. Heaven would never murder one of the Vees and you knew, but with the way the sinner were stepping over you, you couldn't have her getting hurt, especially with how her small stature made her susceptible to trampling. She had also given you clothes that she designed herself with her signature style, yet another of her favourite ways of marking you as hers, so that the angels would see you're with her.
In a moment of bravery, you picked her tiny body up in your arms and rushed towards the door of the Headquarters.
Velvette gasped as you slammed the door open and shut it tightly, pressing your back flush against the cold glass with a sigh of relief. You dropped to your knees in exhaustion and she soon follows, hands flying to cup your cheeks. "Darling, are you alright? Did they get you? Are you hurt? Are yo-"
"My love," you interrupted her rambling, resting a hand on top of hers. "I'm okay. I promise."
She sighed and pulled you into her arms, burying her face in your neck. "Don't do that ever again. You scared the shit out of me."
You press a soft kiss to the top of her head, carding your fingers through her tricolour hair. The pads of your fingers rubbed on her scalp, trying to ground her to reality. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't be late next time."
She smiled and rested her forehead on yours, then planted a kiss on your lips out of relief. She had no idea what she would have done with herself if the exorcists had gotten to you first. She pushed such thoughts away and hugged you tightly.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
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coquettetoji · 6 months
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i need more bf armin if you can please🥹🥹
i’m such a hoe for this man so like
QUESTIONS WITH BF ARMIN 🎀
warnings: literally just gonna make you hate couples in love, i’m nauseous reading my own writing bc i want this so bad. a little suggestive but doesn’t get into it much
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context: y/n, as armin’s lovely girlfriend, asks him a series of questions in her own little interview that she records on her phone.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
it was your average Tuesday night, and you with your ever so spontaneous ideas wanted to sit down with your boyfriend of 2 years— Armin, to put him to the test on a multitude of semi-serious but mostly ridiculous questions.
you take in a deep overdramatic sigh, staring at your boyfriend with a dead-set look in your eyes “so, armin.” you cross your arms in front of you as you sit criss cross apple sauce straddled in his lap, with a small stack of flash cards held in your hands. your phone was stood up by a box of paper tissues off to the side, showing both you and your boyfriend in the phone screen recording.
“yes, baby?” he answers you with a soft dazed smile, his pupils dilated staring at you intently, hands on your waist drawing small circles waiting for you to ask him the oh-so-serious questions, he shouldn’t be scared. after all, they’re just some questions, right?
you stare at him with a glare trying to look intimidating, “question one…” you trail off dramatically.
Armin stares at you with a stifled smile, trying to remain serious just for your sake and to make you happy for this little TikTok trend you want to participate in again. He leans slightly forward to place a small chaste kiss on your cheek.
“that was not part of the question, i told you to be serious.” you huff jokingly but he just smiles brightly up at you.
“i can’t help it, you’re right here in my reach and you’re just so- ugh..” he emphasizes with a fake swoon and a chuckle.
“okay, AGHEM-”
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 1:
“what pet names do you call me the most? n’ what’s the favorite name that I call you?” you say sweetly. your eyes bore into his awaiting his answers while clutching onto your flash cards.
his fingers lightly tapped the sides of your legs, occasionally tracing small circles dazedly as he thought about it.
“i call you baby the most. i dunno what else. there’s sweetheart, angel, honey. momm-” he trails before you cut him off and stare at the camera with wide eyes. you clear your throat slightly side eyeing the camera before returning your view to him and his stupidly adorable dazed smile.
“OKAY! and what’s your favorite name that i call you, minnie?” you ask him with a tilt of your head, reaching a hand out to play with the tufts of his blonde hair.
he huffs, softly dropping his head onto your chest while wrapping his arms around you tighter, squeezing gently.
“mmm, i like everything you call me. but i think that one time i was uh like panicky and stressed and you called me baby, my heart kinda j-just like.. skipped. ya know? like what are they called— heart palpitations? in that situation it just made me feel really good.” he tilts his head up at you, his chin propped up, slightly rambling.
in this moment he really just looked like the embodiment of the cutest golden retriever ever.
you smile at him, “you’re just adorable aren’t you?” he reacts to this with a small blush forming on his cheeks shaking his head side to side slightly.
“y/n/n you have to cut off some parts of this video. i ramble too much when it comes to you i just start rapid firing shit out like i’m rapping.”
“it’s for comedic purposes. shush.”
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 2:
“if you would rather have me with the personality of your ex, or your ex with my body. who would you choose to date? choose carefully and think about what you say before you say it.” you tease him.
his eyes widen slightly as if you had just asked him the most life threatening question ever (honestly to him it could be).
“w-well..” he buffers. he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought or as if it’s gonna have an answer written out on it.
“i would remain single until you return back to normal.” he nods, seemingly assured that his answer was the right one.
you stare blankly at him, then at the camera, then back to him. “the audience is going to have to decide on that one.” you assert.
at this armin’s eyebrows furrow confusedly and his arms wrap around you tighter. “w-what? baby i don’t have much to work with here for an answer.” he sasses.
“you could’ve just said you would- you could like- well in the sense that.. yeah you’re lowkey right.” you shrug sheepishly.
he rolls his eyes jokingly, “can i ask you a question now?”
“if this is another question like gay son or thot daughter im not answering it.”
he laughs slightly, “no no no. it’s something different.”
you nod for him to continue, “what is it then?”
“uhhh can we turn off the camera for this one?” he looks at the camera quickly before returning his eyes back to you.
your eyebrows raised at his shy question, his gaze adverting from you and staring down at your his shirt that you are wearing.
“whisper it to me.”
pst pst pst whisper whisper whisper
you stare blankly at him after pulling the side of your head away from his face with a rosy pink blush now surfacing on your cheeks.
“s-so you see.. i can not answer that…?” you buffer just as he did earlier.
he giggled softly at your confuzzled expression and he squeezed your leg gently with his hand.
“mm see how you can’t answer that one either, angel?” he grinned smugly tilting his chin up at you slightly.
“oh shut up.”
(news flash: he asked you what position he hits it best in 😸)
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 3:
you grab your phone, quickly clicking the .5 button as the phone camera zooms out in view, now causing armin in the view of the camera to look a bit—stretched?
he stares up at the camera, the angle making his puppy eyes just like that much larger and cuter in the process.
“can we not film me from this angle, baby? i don’t get to look at you properly with the phone in the way.” he huffs slightly.
“no.”
“yes ma’am.”
“anyways, next question and i want you to think about this in depth.” you nudge him
he hums along, “i’m listening.”
“what made you realize you loved me?” you ask him deeply.
this question causes armins mind to suddenly blank over a tad bit just to reminisce about the first moments he met you.
he stares up into the camera as you try and withhold a laugh at how stupidly cute the .5 angle is making him look.
flashback:
it was junior year of high school, and at your lovely age of 17.
the teacher was passing back the recent scores from your latest exams. high school was definitely hard but you always seemed to manage with your high grades, expectations, and your extremely competitive nature.
the only person who seemed to have always come close to you or beat you was Armin Arlert.
*insert sparkle noises here*
yeah, he was a little infuriating when it came to competitive aspects but his pretty face lets him get away with it—but definitely not when it comes to you right?
the teacher came around the corner and placed your paper upside down on the surface of your desk. feeling confident with the results, you flip it over to reveal the high score of 98 percent on the white parchment. with a giddy smile, you turn directly behind you in your chair to come face to face with Armin.
only to see him already staring directly at you with a dimpled smile.
“98. what did you get, arlert?” you boast to him while holding up your paper.
“really? i can’t believe it after your poor performance last time.” he teased still grinning at you.
“i got a 90 last time, that’s not even poor.” you roll your ey at him with your mouth slightly agape. “what did you get if you’re so smart?” you huff.
he hummed, his glasses shifting slightly down the bridge of his nose as he leaned slightly forward closer to you in his seat, “a 94, y/n/n.” however his paper remained flipped over and his forearm rested on top of it.
you glanced down at his desk where his veiny arms lay upon the paper, your tried to squint to see some type of number in red but his arms covered it.
you brushed this off, instead focusing on how you scored higher than him as an even bigger smile now appeared on your face. “hm, better catch up next time, arlert.” you nudge him.
“you already know i will, princess.” he nods as his he leaned his head on his left hand looking into your eyes.
you turn around in your seat and face back towards your desk as the school bell rings to signal the next period of the school day. “i’ll see you tomorrow, might wanna get back to studying a little more.”
you pack up your bags, proudly stuffing the 98% exam in your bag. zipping up your backup, you smile, happily leaving the classroom oblivious to Armin’s lovingly proud gaze, as well as his now-flipped-over exam on his desk that revealed a 100%.
flashback over
armin looked up into your eyes with you still in his lap, disregarding the camera shoved into his face.
“i think the moment i realized i would do anything to make you happy, even lie and make myself look worse, is when i just knew i would do absolutely anything for you.” he gushed.
“like you didn’t even know i lied about half my scores until like a year ago. i just loved seeing you smile because you’re so just— ahh.” he hums as he throws his head back slightly and dramatically with a toothy grin.
you cup his cheeks in your hands as you trail your eyes over all his features. “i’m honored that if anyone was my academic rival, it was you, blondie.”
“oh stop it.” he gushed. “but yeah, i just knew when i just felt that weird feeling in my chest every time i saw you happy.”
your heart felt as if it was going to explode, sure you’ve been with armin for a solid 2 years. but this has never really ever been brought up.
“and i also realized when i had the urge to throw jean against a wall when he was flirting with you.”
“okay well atleast chivalry isn’t dead.” you sigh, armin laughs before reaching up slightly to place a gentle peck on your lips.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
let’s just say the peck led to other things because your lips now were noticeably swollen and your hair was messy from armin’s hands running through it.
you pick up your phone camera that was absentmindedly discarded when the two of your guys’ small peck definitely did NOT escalate into a make-out session **blame armin.
“so g-guys.” you take a second to collect your breath. “that’s some questions that my boyfriend answered. this definitely will get me banned if i post all the clips but they will be edited so..” you glance at armin who drags his eyes from up and down your body.
“yeah. i gotta go.” you quickly blurt before clicking the end record button then immediately drop your phone back onto the couch, crawling back into armin’s lap and continuing where you left off.
“love you, love you, love you.” armin mumbles against your lips, clutching his arms tighter around your middle.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
notes —
hi guys!! lets just pretend it hasn’t been 2 months since i last posted. i’m reading requests and im gonna try and put out as much as i can before spring break ends. thank you for all the love and support <3
also armin as a hot nerd is just everything i’ll ever need.
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purpleseven-7 · 2 months
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Jungkook Headcannons
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Boyfriend Jungkook Headcannons
— Easily the MOST clingy boyfriend ever!! But in a good way ofcourse
— It was a love at first sight thing with you.
— His favorite thing to do is merely lay in bed, either you laying on his chest or the other way around as you both chat about everything and nothing.
— He takes you EVERYWHERE. When I said he’s clingy I mean it. You go anywhere he does
— He loves showering with you, sex or not, he loves it.
— He knew he wanted to marry you and already has the ring and everything.
— He calls you ‘darling’ and ‘baby’ the most.
— On that note, he won’t allow you to call him by his name. You HAVE to use pet names or he will NOT respond
— He constantly brags to the band, his family and even Army about you.
— The boys absolutely ADORE the way he loves you and the way you love him the same right back!!
— J-Hope is your best friend
— On the times Jungkook leaves your side (which is barely) he feels panicky and anxious.
— Armies absolutely adore you as well!!
— You are Jungkooks lock screen and home screen on his phone but he also steals yours all the time and makes himself your lock and home screen.
— With the way he dresses you two look like Hades and Persephone
— He brings you flowers every single Monday morning, wanting you to start your week off with a smile
— Since being with him you haven’t touched a door handle and he will literally SHOVE you out of the way to make sure you don’t open your own door.
— He also adores feeding you as well as letting you feed him.
— Baths together happen once a week. He will prepare them perfectly for you.
— Most importantly he’s extremely protective.
— In public his hand is holding yours or his arm is around you.
— He notices your getting uncomfortable? Instantly taking you to the car and heading home. So what that was a party??
— You’re his EVERYTHING. No one but Army comes before you.
THE END
——————————
Do you want a part two?? An actual fic?? Or how about headcannons on one of the other members?? Just request!!!
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socialkid · 10 months
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Imagine…
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It’s a casual Saturday afternoon in the middle of June. The sun is out with mild wind, it was the perfect weather. And when the weather is nice like this, everyone knows to watch out for you. Because around this time, you’re shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping. You run from store to store buying everything in sight. Most of the time with your money, which makes your boyfriend mad. He likes to pay for you.
You boyfriend: Bakugou who knows you love shopping. The days when you have free time, what are you doing? Shopping. The nights where Bakugou’s pacing up and down your apartment because you won’t answer the phone then suddenly, you come bursting through the front door with a bunch of shopping bags. He knows. If anyone knows it’s him.
This morning Bakugou had gotten a call and he was reminded that he had a day off from the agency he worked at. So when he woke you up to ask what you wanted to do today, he wondered why he asked, already knowing your answer.
Now you and Bakugou were walking through the strip mall, him holding two of your bags in one hand and his other holding yours.
“Are we done yet? I wanna take you dinner and we can’t be here all day.” Bakugou asked, grunting as he readjusted your bags.
“Not even close babe,” you said with a quickness as he groaned, “Besides, it’s only two o’clock. You don’t want to just sit around till dinner do you?” You asked him.
“Yea yeah.” He said.
You looked through the windows of the stores as they went by. Preppy, pink and frilly stores, tomboy stores, casual clothing stores, toy stores, and so much more.
“Where we goin’ next huh?” Bakugou asked, looking through some of the bags he was holding. “Hmmm probably Spencer’s, then we could hit up the food court for Auntie Anne’s, and then Foreve-” you stopped in your tracks at a merch store. The window displayed, shirts and hats of merchandise by well known creators.
Bakugou looked at you as you made googly eyes at the coryxkenshien merch, worn by a mannequin. “Y/n…don’t start-” your boyfriend was interrupted by you squealing and jumping. “Just go in the damn store already.” Bakugou sighed as you rushed in. Bakugou made his way in behind you slowly after. Not even 15 seconds later and he had already lost you.
He made his way around the store looking for you, and calling your name every once in a while. He got the idea to check by the Cory section. No sign of you. He checked the sections of your favorite artists and creators, still no sign of you.
He had actually started to become a little panicky. “Y/n? Where are you?” He raised his voice. He knew you were smart, the complete opposite of vulnerable. You could help yourself if you needed to. Even without using your quirk, you can handle anyone. But still, Bakugou wanted to make sure you were safe.
Bakugou had checked almost every area of the store and he had continued to worry. Before resorting to shouting your name he saw a section under a sign that wrote “Heroes”.
As soon as he entered, your voice began to fade in, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my goshhh!” Bakugou walked past all the merchandise: Earser Head, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and more. He finally stopped when he saw you gazing at a triple layered table, sitting under a sign labeled “Dynamite”.
There on the table was a clear representation of Katsuki himself. The black and orange shirts and pants, hoodies labeled ‘Dynamite’ in black and orange letters, and miniature sized Dynamite plushies.
Bakugou couldn’t help but grin a little bit when you turned around to face him, already wearing a baseball cap with his named labeled onto it. “Babe! Look! It’s you! Everywhere! Oh my gosh!” You said smiling from ear to ear. “I can see that y/n.” He said sarcastically, chuckling a bit, “Calm down, you can get what you want I’ll pay for it.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up everything that had his name on it. Hoodies, tank tops, hats, water bottles, stuffed plushies, fake tattoos, etc. You also stashed a few items by Shoto, Red Riot, and even one or two Deku items.
You were so excited for your items. So excited you didn’t pay attention to the shocked face of the cashier ringing up all the Dynamite merchandise, as she looked at Dynamite behind you.
After that nothing else in the mall seemed interesting. At this point you were ready to go home before dinner and check out your man’s merch.
After that day, you made sure to put your items to use. You were always flaunting your boyfriend and you made sure everybody knew it.
One night your boyfriend had called you up and asked if he could sleepover at your apartment. And when he arrived he was meet with you, wearing an oversized Dynamite shirt. He couldn’t help his intentions that night. And when everything was done, you cuddled up next to your Dynamite plushie and your life sized Dynamite.
“You love me don’t you?” Bakugou asked, you could practically hear his grin.
“Yup, both of you.”
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hearts-hunger · 8 months
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january blue || josh kiszka x reader
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Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist
Summary: You're sick, and Josh takes good care of you.
Pairings: Josh x Reader | Genre: fluff, h/c, sickfic | Word Count: 2k | Warnings: none!
A/N: Here's another one of those self-serving fics that I hope you like :) Also this is lowkey an ad for Netflix's “The Greatest Night in Pop” because that was a great documentary. Anyhoopla I hope you like it! ♡
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“Sweet baby, when is your birthday again?”
You pulled your blank gaze from the waiting room wall, frowning a little as you looked over at Josh. It took you a second to think of a response; the fluorescents overhead were harsh, and everything seemed unnaturally bright under them. Josh held the pen poised and ready above the intake form, waiting for you to tell him your birthdate.
The uncomfortable vinyl chair creaked when you turned towards him. “You don't know my birthday?” you asked, unsure if you should be surprised by that. You were surprised, but you were also rather disoriented, so maybe it was a normal question for an attentive boyfriend to ask.
He cracked a smile, a welcome bit of tenderness in the cold, stark doctor’s office. 
“I do,” he said. “I was only teasing.” He jotted it down along with your other details, taking care of the task for you as you sat in the waiting room together. It was sweet of him to do it and try to take your mind off things while he did, and it made the appointment seem a little less daunting.
“What are your symptoms?” he asked, writing down the ones he already knew. “Earache, sore throat, congestion?”
You nodded, covering your ear with your hand, careful of pressing too hard. “Dizziness, too. And a headache.”
“My poor baby,” he said sympathetically. He finished up the intake form. “Okay, honey. You’re all set.” He returned the clipboard to the front desk, taking your hand when he came back to sit next to you.
“What do you think?” he asked. His hair was a golden halo of soft curls, and it didn’t surprise you that even the awful atmosphere of the doctor’s office didn’t dim his warmth and cheerfulness. “Do you wanna read one of these magazines that have been here since the eighties? There’s probably some older ones if that sounds too modern.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’m okay, thanks.”
He smiled. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
He pulled out his phone to answer a text from Danny; you rested your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the persistent ache and the vaguely panicky feeling you always got at the doctor. 
Josh gave you a quick smooch on your forehead. You smiled.
“What was that for?” you asked.
“Danny said to give you a get-well kiss,” he said. “So there you go.”
You cuddled closer to him. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Of course, baby.” He pocketed his phone. “Thanks for asking me. I would have been sad to find out you went without me.”
You raised your head to look at him, a bemused smile crossing your face. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I know you don’t like the doctor, and I like to be with you for things that make you nervous, if I can. I’m glad you know you can ask me for help.”
Your smile was wobbly, then. “Aw, Joshy. I love you, you know.”
He gave you a sweet smile. “I love you too, baby. Hopefully we’ll be in and out, and then we can spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch. Sound good?”
“Sounds wonderful,” you said with a sigh. 
You lost track of time in the waiting room, sucked into the weird vortex of discomfort and the smell of antiseptic, but eventually your name was called. Josh went with you, and though you might have felt a little embarrassed to be a grown woman with a personal escort to the doctor, you just didn’t have the energy to care. Besides, there was nothing wrong with having Josh with you, and you were glad you didn’t have to do it alone.
He waited patiently while you got your vitals checked, making jokes about your pulse being a little high with white coat syndrome. When the nurse left you alone in the room again, he gave you a thumbs up.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he said with a sweet smile. “I bet you’re the best patient they’ve had all day.”
“I do my best,” you said. You fidgeted on the table, the paper crinkling under you. “Can we get coffee after this?”
“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”
You gave him a teasing smile. “Whatever I want, huh? Could you strip naked right now and do the hula for me?”
He laughed, and the warm sound of it took the edge off the chill of the sterile room.
“Maybe not whatever you want,” he corrected. He stood and came over to the exam table, giving your thigh a comforting pat. “But I think I can handle coffee.”
You winced and tilted your head as you felt a sharp pain go from your ear all the way down your neck. Josh gently covered the spot with his warm hand, and you leaned into his touch.
“There’s this new documentary on Netflix,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the ache. “About the night they got the supergroup together for ‘We Are The World’.”
“I saw the trailer,” he agreed. He slowly ran his fingers over your fevered skin. “You want to watch that when we get home?”
“Sure. We can make a roster of who should be in the next version with you guys.”
He smiled. “Okay, baby. I’d like that.” A sympathetic frown tugged at his features when you grimaced again.
“I'm sorry you don't feel good, honey,” he said. “I know a jacked up ear isn't very fun.”
You breathed a laugh. “I shouldn't complain. Your whole eardrum exploded, so mine’s easy in comparison.”
He chuckled. “Are we in a competition for worst ear injury? That's kinda weird, even for us.”
You leaned your head against his, thankful for the way he comforted you and made you smile without even trying. 
He pulled back when the door handle turned, and gave your hand a squeeze before he took his seat again. The doctor gave you a quick exam, confirming an ear infection secondary to a sinus infection, and prescribed you a round of antibiotics. 
Josh got you squared away at the desk before you left, and you were content to let him do the talking as the pain started to catch up with you. He led you out to the car, getting you settled in the passenger seat before he got in himself.
“Still feel up for coffee?” he asked.
You curled up in a pitiful little ball. “Yes, please. But maybe I’ll get the Medicine Ball instead.”
He kept one hand on your thigh as he drove, and you half dozed with your hands wrapped around the wonderfully warm Starbucks cup. He ran into the store to pick up your prescription and a few other things, and though he’d promised to be quick, he was gone longer than you’d expected.
“Where did you go?” you said, an irritated, petulant tone creeping into your voice. “The Bermuda Triangle?”
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said sincerely, putting the bags in the back of the Jeep. “The pharmacy line was super long. I guess I should have taken you home and come back out for your medicine.”
You softened, feeling a little guilty. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be grumpy with you when you're running around doing everything for me.”
He touched a hand to your cheek. “You don’t have to apologize, baby. I know you don't feel good. I understand if you’re grumpy.”
You held his hand and kept it pressed to your cheek for a moment. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”
At home, he got your medicine and some painkillers into you before he ran you a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub, brushing your hair back from your face.
“I think you’ll feel better if you have a nap, baby,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Do you want to eat something before you lay down?”
You shook your head. “I don’t really have an appetite.”
“I understand. I’d like you to try and eat a little something, though, just so the medicine doesn't make you sick. How about some soup?”
You looked up at him. “Can you do the spinach and rice one Jake makes?”
He nodded slowly. “Uh... yes. I think so.” You laughed when he pulled out his phone to ask his brother for the recipe.
He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Let me go get it cooking,” he said. “You enjoy your bath.”
You gratefully sank into the warm water, letting it soothe your aches until you felt all jellied and tired. Still, you were reaching the edge of your tolerance for the consistent pain; you knew the Tylenol had to be kicking in soon, but until it did, you were steadily getting more outdone with feeling so miserable. You hardly spoke when Josh came to help you out and brought you warm pajamas, and he watched you with worry as he steered you to the couch.
You winced when the pain spiked suddenly. “Oh my god, ow.”
Josh pulled back from you. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No. My stupid ear.” You gingerly pressed your hand to it, close to tears with frustration and discomfort. You looked pitifully up at him. “It hurts, Joshy.”
“I know, baby,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”
You shook your head, unable to think of anything, even if there was anything he could do. He just pulled you close and held you in a safe, steady hug, and it was exactly what you needed.
“My sweet baby,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”
A few tears spilled over, and you buried your face against his chest.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said in a small voice.
“Honey,” he soothed. “You’re welcome. You don't have to thank me. I wish I could do more to help.”
You hugged him tighter, resting in his warmth and closeness. “You’re perfect, Josh.”
He rested his head against yours and rocked you gently. “I love you, my sweet girl.”
When the uptick in pain finally subsided, maybe because the medicine had finally kicked in, you let yourself be settled on the couch in a nest of pillows. Josh covered you with every fuzzy blanket he could find until you were practically buried in them.
“Joshy,” you giggled. 
He smiled. “There’s that sweet laugh,” he said tenderly. “I missed it. What’s got you so tickled?”
You tried to lift your arms under the blankets. “I’m gonna be trapped in here.”
He chuckled. “It’s my master plan. Keep you wrapped up in blankets so you can never escape me.”
“I don’t want to escape you.”
“Just making sure.” He held your face in his hands and gave you kiss after kiss after kiss, each one sweet and gentle and joyful. “I love you very much, you know.”
You gave him a bashful smile. “Yeah, I know.”
You had dinner — Josh had replicated Jake’s recipe perfectly, which he insisted was thanks to his twin’s detailed instructions — and watched the documentary about the recording of ‘We Are The World’. The two of you spent a while listing people you wanted in your supergroup to play with Greta Van Fleet.
“I want Noah Kahan and Gregory Alan Isakov,” you said.
Josh nodded sagely. “I see the vision. We should get Labi Siffre too.”
“Can we go back in time and get John Denver?” you asked.
He smiled. “Yes. I’m making that executive decision. Because I want to grab the original lineup of Fairport Convention.”
“So... we’re doing a folk rock version, then?”
He hummed in agreement. “And we make friends with everybody, and it’s the number one single in the world, and it’s your favorite song that we’ve ever done.”
You laughed and cuddled against him when he pulled you close.
He ran his hand up and down your arm. “I'm glad you’re feeling a little better, honey.”
You gave a contented sigh. “Me too.”
It had started to rain when you got home, and there was still a gentle, steady drumbeat on the roof that matched the hazy blue wash against your windows. Josh held you close and told you about what they’d worked on in the studio, and before long, the warmth of his voice and the sound of the rain worked as surely as a lullaby to pull you towards sleep.
Josh brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said softly.
You tilted your face up for a kiss, and he obliged you. He was all love and gentleness and warmth, as he always was, and you melted into his touch.
“You love me lots, don’t you?” you asked.
“Yes, baby. Lots and lots.”
“Oh good,” you said, cosy and sleepy and content in the safety of his arms. “I love you lots too.”
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gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama@honeyandsweettae@mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister@eraofstardustchords@sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream@serendipiti@demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny@iluvjoshkiszka@jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf @jazzyfigz @musicspeaks @amythestars @missharvestmoon @readyforthegarden
@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit @hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold@lostoverseer@catharu77@mackalah@jaketlove@haileygvf@blacksoul-27@ur-m0ms-blog@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf@madneedshelp@dreamsingxld
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chocotonez · 2 years
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skz reaction to their s/o feeling nauseous
a/n: I think this is months late so I’m so incredibly sorry and I hope you’re not still feeling nauseous anon!!
warnings/genre: mentions of throwing up, sickness, no reason stated for feeling sick, g/n reader, lmk if anything else should be tagged!
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chan
-so incredibly worried immediately
-if you’re outside he’ll immediately be like “need to go home?? Should we go home?”
-calls you his “poor baby” while cradling you dramatically
-“food? water? cold?? hot??? fever??? chills?!?!?”
-strokes your hair while trying to ease it in anyway he knows possible, even looks up quick ways to help you
-he’s more of a healer and fixer, so he wouldn’t just want to distract you but fix the problem entirely
-lots of kisses until you feel better!!
lee know
-immediately has you in bed with a damp towel over your forehead and fanning you while also making chicken noodle soup and giving you the best of the best treatment
-probably the type to drop “is it because you’re on your phone all the time?” and scold you even if that’s not the reason at all 😭
-he’s devoted to taking care of you but also he hates seeing you in pain, which is why he can seem like he’s scolding u or smth like that
-babies you a bit to make you laugh, pinches your cheeks but his giggles are softer and he tries to relax so he doesn’t make you feel even more sick LOL
-“I’ll always be here to take care of you”
changbin
-notices but he doesn’t want you to feel super duper scrutinized especially if it’s something you can handle yourself
-like dizzy spells and whatnot, but once it hits that your head is spinning and your vision is getting spotty he panics
-“hey let’s get you some water? do you wanna go home? wanna go lay down?” and is dropping a lot of suggestions because you know ur body best!
-but he’ll obviously swoop into take care of you if you’re alright with it, kissing your cheek and trying to comfort you and smother u with love because love is the best medicine
-brushes your hair out of your face and lets you lay on his chest, he wants to remind you that he’s here for you always
hyunjin
-very relaxed about it, not in the way he doesn’t care but in the way he’s confident that he can take care of you !
-he makes sure to ask what you’d like to do though, he’s not really the type to be insistent on getting you to rest but he’ll gladly carry you to bed and get you some water and an advil
-cuddles you non stop and tries to take your mind off of it by telling stories about his day, tries to get you to doze off
-respects your space a lot and understands how it can get overbearing to have someone huddling you when you feel sick
-but no matter if you want him a thousand feet away or holding onto you like a koala bear he’ll be there for you with warm soup and a damp cloth
han
-has a flare for dramatics
-it’s a dizzy spell and you’re nauseous, and obviously he loves you and cares for you but unless there’s a more prominent issue he’ll just take care of you as per usual but with some theatrics to make you smile
-he’s a big distractor unlike Chan, he knows you can get over a nausea episode but he wants to help you get through it through methods other than painkillers and gallon bottles of water
-“oh woe is me, the love of my life has fallen ill to some treacherous curse! fortunately their handsome prince is here to save them with true love’s kiss…” “please just give me the Tylenol”
-pokes your cheek to make sure you’re still alive if you start dozing off because it makes him nervous
-takes funny photos to commemorate the occasion (you don’t think it’s that funny)
felix
-I think he’s much more insistent on you getting rest and taking it easy
-I think that he takes your health very seriously, as he knows personally that it’s best to take care of yourself and he just doesn’t ever want you to be hurt/in pain/uncomfortable
-he might seem a little panicky and rushed with trying to get you feel better but that’s because he really does but want to see you happy and okay again!
-you know those big water bottles that have little inspirational messages encouraging you to drink water?? he gets those for you while you rest up
-if it’s just a short dizzy spell he’ll immediately sit you down with a damp cloth and get you some food
-honestly he’s just the sweetest ever and very attentive to you no matter how minor or fleeting your nausea is
seungmin
-“I’m gonna throw up on you” “don’t you dare”
-has fun with it LOL, but not because he doesn’t care but entirely because he wants to see you smile and distract you from your head spinning
-“heeeeyyyy i brought you some noddle soup but if you throw up I’m gonna call my mom to take care of you because that’s really gross and I don’t wanna deal with that!! xoxo love you so much!”
-but that’s entirely a joke because the second you’re seriously discomforted and hurt he’s on the verge of tears and tending to you
-he’s gonna make it fun so you don’t just…feel nasty and gross and bad, because if you’re stuck with a dizzy spell then he’s gonna make you smile somehow
-sings “you make me feel…better!” to the tune of twice’s feel special while getting you some painkillers
jeongin
-takes it very seriously because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you
-I think that every time he faces a boyfriend scenario (you’re upset, nauseous, you need a ride somewhere…) he really pushes himself to be the best he can be for you
-but also it’s embarrassing if he gets all cheesy on you and he gets flustered if he has to take your temperature or if you start leaning on him because you’re still his super pretty significant other and you always make his heart beat fast
-doesnt really know how to approach on comforting you so he’ll just try to find a solution (i.e nearly calls emergency services)
-“it’s okay! everything’s a-okay!!” and he’s more worried than you are (mainly because the world is spinning and you are this close to leaning over the nearest trash can, so you don’t really have the energy to be as anxious about this as he is)
-“jeongin, babe, can we just go home?? I don’t think you need to take me to the hospital…” “but like…are you sure??”
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intothedysphoria · 11 days
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Steve was aware of the irony of the fact that he was hiding in a literal closet instead of messaging a hot man he’d met at work. That didn’t stop him from doing it though.
Searching “how to make gay thoughts go away” had just lead him to conversion therapy websites and that made Steve run out of the tab at the speed of sound. He wasn’t trying to repress anything. He just needed these inconvenient feelings to become a little more manageable.
Billy from work was beautiful, granted. He kind of looked like a bad boy, with the motorcycle and the leather jacket and the whole 1980s rebel aesthetic. That really was very in right now. But he also was fussy about the way he took his tea and read obscure French sci-fi and apparently owned like six cats.
Telling Billy his dream of having six kids was probably coming on a little strong. Then again, Steve wasn’t very good at doing things casually.
He’d told a first date he loved them. Twice. Who knows where he’d be if it hadn’t been Carol?
It was utterly humiliating. So Steve decided that he was going to hide in his closet, with his iPad and a bowl of grapes until it went away.
The plan was foolproof. It really was. Except Billy had given Steve his number, presumably in the assumption that Steve would actually text him.
That was a big assumption. Steve’s only real experience texting a guy in a way that wasn’t platonic was Tommy Hagan in high school. Most of the time he’d just text “what’s up man” then they’d give each other sad, repressed handjobs in Tommy’s attic bedroom.
“What’s up man” probably wasn’t going to work on Billy. He couldn’t really panic and use a straight persona on someone who’d presumably shared his number in the hopes of a hookup. Date. Anything.
Babe felt a bit strong. Did gay men call each other babe? Maybe the closet was getting to Steve’s head because his breathing had started to come out quick and panicky. Fucking shit.
He was going to text Billy, then hide from his phone for the next four hours. Yes, that was a good plan. Hide from the feelings Steve.
He rambled something out about Billy being hot, Steve being a hot mess and pressed send before he could think about it too much. Then he put his phone on silent and went to wash the dust out of his hair.
Billy hadn’t texted back by the time Steve had gotten out of the shower. Texting again would make him seem clingy and fucking weird. He put on Legally Blonde, the comfort film he’d resolved to tell nobody about and decided to forget about it.
The hours ticked away and Steve slowly went about his daily routine, phone sitting forgotten on the counter. Dustin visited, Steve endured a lengthy conversation about Dungeons and Dragons, and he finally made pizza without burning it to a crisp.
Then he remembered.
Shit.
Running to check his phone and cursing the fact that his hands were still sticky from the pizza, Steve stumbled through unlocking the passcode and found five new messages. All from Billy. Some slightly panicked.
Steve was not the only clingy one it seemed. So he phoned.
Billy still sounded kind of breathless when he picked up which made Steve kick himself. The poor guy had been waiting for a message back for six hours and Steve had been hiding from his phone.
They managed to establish some stuff.
Both of them were attracted to each other. Neither were good at doing casual. And both of their Fridays were free.
Perfect.
Steve did awkward finger guns at Billy when they stepped into the restaurant but considering Billy managed to trip over his motorcycle helmet, he thought that wouldn’t be an issue.
And he managed not to say I love you when Billy took his hand on the way out, which was progress.
Maybe on the next date then.
For the lovely @shieldofiron who as much as she loves angst also loves some cheesy fluff
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a/n: i’m normally an islanders girly, but i have a soft spot for svech, especially after the horrible news of his acl injury 🥺 honestly have no idea where this came from except i saw one of @ryanpulock ‘s anons mention taking care of svech after an injury, so here we go! entirely unedited because i hate rereading my own work lol
tw: smut, gratuitous and potentially wrong use of russian terms of endearment
summary: you want to take care of andrei a little after he gets a cut on his thigh.
The text from Jordan - “Don’t worry, he’s fine” - would be concerning on it’s own, but when it’s followed-up approximately ten minutes later with a text from Andrei - “Don’t worry, I am fine” - you’re heading quickly into a panicky state. Ignoring the fact that you’re out with friends, you open up Twitter and navigate to the Canes’ hashtag, scrolling anxiously until you spot the familiar last name.
A tweet from Cory Lavalette: Svechnikov is down and hurt.
Another one from Cory: Svechnikov did the splits while getting checked and was holding his left inner thigh.
Three minutes later: Further review, it looks like Kevin Hayes' skate caught Svechnikov in the thigh.
You feel like you might throw up. A cut from a skate blade is no joke. Depending on where on his thigh the blade caught him - you force yourself to stop that line of thinking and keep scrolling, breathing a sigh of relief when you see that Andrei was back on the ice a minute or so later. It’s solidly thirty minutes after the game’s ended (you didn’t realize it had gotten so late!), so he must be okay, if his and Jordan’s texts are the only ones about the whole thing. “Sorry, guys,” you sigh, gathering your jacket and purse, pushing away from the table. “I have to go. Just Venmo request me what I owe.”
Your best friend looks up, surprised, but then after she checks her phone, a sly grin stretches across her face and she teases, “going to get the benefits of those post-game endorphins?”
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you smirk, trying to hide your anxiety and worry about Andrei.
That gets the whole table jeering and heckling you, with your best friend laughing and proclaiming, “you’re sure as hell not a lady. Or do I need to bring out the keg stand video again?”
Waving her off with a snort of laughter and a vaguely rude gesture, you head for the door, blowing a kiss and slipping your arms into your jacket. The sounds of your friends’ voices follow you out of the restaurant, finally quieting once the door shuts behind you. You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes briefly. He’s fine - Jordan said so and Jordan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Even still, you’re nervous for the entire fifteen minute drive back to yours and Andrei’s apartment.
“Drei?” You call out his name when you push open the front door, kicking off your boots and dropping your house keys in the little bowl on the front hall table.
“In here,” his deep, accented voice echoes from the back of the apartment - your bedroom.
Shedding your jacket and draping it and your purse over the back of the couch - a bad habit that you’ve been trying to kick - you hurry down the hall towards him, needing to see him in one piece.
You freeze in the doorway when you finally lay eyes on him. He’s stretched out on the king-sized bed, shirtless and damp from his shower, clad only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he’s got one hand tucked behind his head, making his tricep bulge.
“Damn,” you mutter. It’s unfair how good-looking he is. And then your gaze lights on the thick white bandage wrapped around his left thigh, making the well-muscled bulk look even thicker. For some reason, the sight of the bandage makes his injury all the more real and tears prick at your eyes. “Andrei…” you whisper his name, hand pressing against your mouth to keep your emotions inside.
He shakes his head and smiles a little at you, a shadow of his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Ah, solnyshka, I’m fine. Just small scratch,” he says, voice warm and soaking over you like a blanket.
“But you got cut with a skate blade! A really sharp skate blade!” Your voice cracks a little. “It could’ve been really bad.”
Andrei gestures you forward with one hand and you obey instantly, not even thinking about it. His hand is warm on your wrist and he lifts your hand to his mouth to press a kiss to your palm. Your knees tremble. “But it was not,” he mumbles against your palm. “A few stitches, a bandage, and I’m good as new.”
“Stitches?” Your eyebrows lift and you look down at the bandage as if you’ve developed x-ray vision in the last thirty seconds.
“Two, three maybe. It is nothing,” he tugs at your wrist again, the dimple deepening on his cheek. His eyes twinkle. “But I think maybe I’m going to need a nurse to bring me back to 100%.”
His voice is low and you look up at his face, taking in the slow smirk that’s forming. “Oh a nurse, huh?” you murmur, warmth flooding your stomach from the way he’s looking at you.
“Mhm,” he hums, a deep rumble in his chest. His thumb is tracing an arc over your wrist, liquid heat crawling through your veins. “Now that I think about it, maybe it does hurt a little,” his lower lip pokes out in a small pout.
“Poor baby,” you whisper, licking your lower lip. Your throat feels dry. “I’ll have to be very gentle…”
Andrei’s eyes are dark, the tips of his ears are growing pink, and you can see the bulge in his boxer-briefs practically growing by the second. “What if I am a bad patient?” He lifts one eyebrow. “Will you be gentle then?”
You giggle. “Now, Mister Svechnikov, I know you can behave,” you dart forward and ghost a kiss over his lips. “When you want to.”
He tries to pull you down onto the bed, but you dance away quickly. “Solnyshka,” he pouts, “I’m not supposed to move. You have to come to me.”
“Let me change,” you reply, already pulling your sweater over your head. “These clothes are dirty.” The sweater gets tossed onto the chair in the corner and you kick off your jeans, leaning one knee on the bed. Andrei’s hands reach for you, the right one close enough to rest on your hip. He slides warm fingers around the curve of your ass and tries to pull you closer.
“Please,” he says. His accent is thick, vibrating around your brain and melting your heart. You love his voice. “I will be a good patient, I promise.”
You crawl closer to him, both of his hands on your hips now. One thick finger brushes under the waistband of your panties, sending a shiver down your spine. “Well, if you promise….” you trail off, dipping your head to press a kiss to inside of his bicep. One of your hands rests on his knee, fingers brushing over warm skin. He twitches, a little ticklish at your light touch. You grin at him, dragging your fingertips up the inside of his good thigh. The hair on his leg raises with goosebumps and the bulge of his cock grows. “You relax,” you murmur, “let me do the work.”
With a groan, Andrei drops back against the pillows he had propped behind his back, watching you with blown pupils as you climb in between his legs. He widens the space, offering you room to work. You lean back on your thighs, resting your hands lightly on Andrei’s shins. “You’ve got to tell me if you start hurting or it’s uncomfortable, okay?” you say, massaging your fingers into his calves. “I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”
“Maylshka,” Andrei groans the term of endearment, his hand stroking at himself through the fabric of his boxer-briefs, “you’re hurting me more by taking so much time.”
A snort of laughter leaves your nose involuntarily and you scoot up the bed, scraping your nails over his legs. “So impatient,” you mutter affectionately, a weird twist in your stomach when your gaze lands on the bandage again. A reminder that he was hurt. That it could’ve been more serious. Swallowing heavily, you duck your head and press a kiss to the inside of his right knee, scraping teeth over skin as you move up his inner thigh, kissing and biting gently as you go.
Andrei shifts under you, the bed dipping and swaying as he adjusts. One of his large hands twist in your hair, tangling the strands between his fingers and tugging, just this side of painful. The other hand bumps against the top of your head as he wraps it around his growing cock, stroking himself firmly. The steady movement of his hand makes his body move, in turn making your own body jostle. You bite into the corded muscle of his inner thigh and Andrei hisses, hand jerking out of rhythm.
“I thought I was taking care of you?” you mumble against his heated skin, leaning back and angling so your shoulder doesn’t bump against his wrapped thigh. Your fingers curl in the waistband of his underwear, the fabric already stretched to its limits between Andrei’s hand and erection. “You can take care of yourself on the road.”
His voice is raspy when he replies, “just helping you along, malyshka. Don’t want you to get tired.” He groans when you slide your hand over his and squeeze.
“I’m wide awake, Drei,” you murmur, knocking his hand aside and replacing it with your own. He’s hot and hard in your hand, a familiar weight. Your thumb brushes over the red, weeping tip of him and his hips buck involuntarily. A slow smirk spreads across your lips. Before you can bend your head, Andrei uses the hand that’s still tangled in your hand to force your face up to his. He cups your chin in his free hand and slants his lips over yours in a hungry kiss. You return it in kind, leaning into him, enjoying the groan he lets loose into your mouth when your hand twists around his cock.
He pulls back from the kiss, dropping his head against the headboard with a thunk. “I want to flip you over on your back and make you come until you cry,” he mutters, stretching out his left leg a little.
You laugh and kiss the side of his neck, licking at a bead of water that’s dripped down from his hair. He shivers. “Give yourself a little time to heal and then you can have me any way you want,” you promise. “Just let me take care of you tonight.”
Without giving him a chance to answer, you slide down his body, pressing soft kisses to his chest as you go and flicking one flat nipple with your tongue, drawing a strained laugh from Andrei’s throat. He murmurs your name and you kiss his stomach, just under his belly button, “lift,” you command, hooking your fingers in the elastic waist of his underwear and tugging them down. His erection jumps free, curving up to his stomach, thick and red and waiting for you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you dart your tongue out and lick the tip of him delicately.
“Fuck!” he curses, hand tightening in your hair. You press down on his good thigh with your free hand to keep him in place, not that you have a chance in hell of holding Andrei down if he really wants to move. But your fingers curl against his skin and you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth and you shift on your knees to change the angle, taking him deeper. Andrei groans and moans above you, vocalizing his approval. He’s too big to take all of him in your mouth, so you wrap your hand around the remaining inches and squeeze, knowing he loves the pressure. His hand pushes your face down and your nose bumps his lower stomach. His hold on your head is loose though, and you could pull back if you wanted. You don’t want to.
Bracing yourself on his thigh, you lean forward, taking him deeper. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, making a mess of Andrei and the sheets below him. He bucks his hips, trying to restrain himself so he doesn’t hurt you, but when you him around him, flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock, he shouts and pushes further down your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You breathe sharply through your nose, trying to stave off a gag, and inhale Andrei’s familiar musk mixed with the lavender-citrus body wash you’d bought for yourself but had been sneakily stolen by your boyfriend. You press your thighs together, pressure to help the throbbing between your legs. Andrei moves, like he wants to reach down and touch you, but you squeak a little when your head gets trapped between his pelvis and his stomach.
“Sorry,” he rumbles, “sorry.” His free hand strokes at your cheeks, your forehead, the back of your neck, and you shiver. You him around him again, sucking hard. Andrei groans your name, barely resisting the urge to thrust into your mouth. You encourage him, squeezing his shaft.
He tenses under your touch and comes in your mouth with a shouted string of Russian curses. You swallow quickly, a little overwhelmed, and Andrei’s grip on your hair loosens. He looks down at you with glazed eyes as you release him with a wet pop. a string of saliva connects your lips and his softening cock and you swipe at it quickly. “You are….” he mumbles, chuckling, speechless.
“I know,” you grin at him, wiping at the corners of your mouth. You wiggle up the mattress, rest your wrists on his shoulders, and kiss him sweetly. Andrei’s hands are heavy on your hips, sliding down the curve of your ass.
He yawns a little, blushing and mumbling an apology. “It’s not you,” he rushes to say and you giggle, kissing his cheek.
“You’ve had a long day, baby,” you reply, sliding out from between his legs and climbing off the bed. “Get comfy, I’m going to shower really quick and rinse the day off.”
Andrei catches your hand as you turn for the bathroom, a pout on his lips and a furrow between his brows. “But I didn’t get to have my way way you,” he whines.
“Tomorrow, big boy,” you promise, ignoring the throbbing between your legs. “I wanted to take care of you tonight.” You slip from his grip and dance off to the bathroom, loving that he wants to make sure you’re satisfied too. You take the world’s shortest shower, soaping up and shampooing in record time. You skip conditioner, willing to pay the price of slightly dry hair in order to cuddle with Andrei sooner.
By the time you pad back into the bedroom, clad in one of Andrei’s old shirts, he’s flat on his back, eye shut, and snoring softly. You smile softly at him, heart filling with even more love for your boyfriend. He looks even younger when he’s sleeping. Carefully, you climb into bed and tuck yourself against Andrei’s right side. His mouth hangs open a bit and his left arm is thrown over his forehead. As soon as you touch his side, he stirs a little, blinking and scrunching his face. “Mmm,” he hums, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you close. You go easily, draping your arm over his stomach and resting your head on his chest.
“Night, Drei,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his skin.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he mumbles, breathing evening out again.
When you wake up in the morning, Andrei’s head is pillowed on your chest and he has both arms wrapped around you, holding you like a teddy bear. You blink sleepily and rest your cheek against the top of his head. Your legs are tangled with his, the bandage brushing against your thigh. You comb your fingers through Andrei’s hair gently, easing him awake.
“Hi, sleeping beauty,” you giggle as he blinks awake.
“Ditto,” Andrei says, voice hoarse with sleep. He buries his face into your chest. “Stay in bed.”
“I wish, but someone has to work so we can afford this life we’ve become accustomed to,” you joke, laughing even harder when Andrei’s fingers dig into your side, tickling you now that he’s wide awake.
This is absolutely your favorite way to wake up.
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devilat-thedoor · 1 year
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Hands to Yourself Pt8
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ok bbys🤍
I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible, so if there’s any mistakes as far as that goes, please forgive me? I don’t think this one is my best work, but I hope you all still enjoy it. Thank you for the love and support you’ve been pouring in thus far, it means the world💖💖 btw, special credit to @gvfpal for a particularly heartbreaking scene🥺
Part 7
Word Count: 10.5k
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Warnings: 18+ as always, Minors DNI. TW!! Trauma/Injuries/Mentions of death.
Jake POV
“Odessa, can you just- I need you to tell me what happened.” You tried to keep yourself calm despite the rising pace of your heart rate. The nurses and doctors wouldn’t let you be with her. You begged and pleaded to just see her, if only for confirmation that she was still alive, still breathing like they said she was, but with no luck, you searched for anything to occupy your mind.
Odessa looked up from the hard plastic chair she was sitting in and wiped her teary eyes. “It all happened too fast, Jake. I-”
“From the beginning.” You cut her off. All you wanted was an understanding of how this happened. “She was supposed to be at your house. Why was she driving in the city? How did Sage even know where she would be?” You watched as she tried to collect herself, taking a few breaths before she could speak.
She dug her hands into her eyes as she started a play by play, “We were just looking for a movie to watch and talking about her ring, the proposal. I asked why you guys left the bar in such a rush and s-she showed me the text from Sage and…” She paused, stuttering through her words, “Y/N just wanted a chance to talk to her, face to face, so I asked Sage to come over and I was gonna have her t-take a pregnancy test. Then Y/N…she- well I-” Odessa pushed her hands into her hair, attempting to stifle her sobs. You knew she was having a hard time.
You took a seat beside her, rubbing your hand down her back, “Dess, I’m sure this has gotta be hard for you, but whatever you’re feeling… just know that I’m feeling it a million times worse. I need to know how this happened. Just take your time, take a few breaths and tell me. Please.” She nodded as tears continued to slide her puffy cheeks.
After a minute or so, she was composed enough to continue, “I asked her if she was pregnant, it was just as a joke, but then she kind of freaked out…”
“Wha- wait, why did she freak out?”
Odessa gave you a sympathetic look, “She was scared at how you’d react… Scared that you wouldn’t want her anymore.” You looked away from her, you’re conversation with Y/N from earlier coming back. Had you really reacted so terribly that she was afraid to even bring up the possibility to you? She kept speaking, unaware of your internal turmoil. “I had her take a test and then Sage showed up and it just turned into a blowout. Y/N showed her the positive test and she- Jake, she’s so obsessed with you that she refused to believe it, said it was probably Sam’s…Things got a little physical and then Sage left and everything calmed down after a bit.”
You stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to finish but she was looking around as if she was putting pieces together. “Okay, but then Y/N left? Why did she leave?” It didn’t make sense. If she was on her way home, she wouldn’t have been that far into the city.
“Uhh…” Odessa shook her head as though she was trying to wrangle a herd of scrambled thoughts. “She went to get her phone to see if you’d called but when she came back downstairs… She was panicky? I came out of the kitchen and she was rushing to put her shoes on to leave, said that the garage was on fire and she had to get down there…” She turned to face you with a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. “Now that I think about it… Jake, I drove by the garage on my way here and there was no sign of a fire. No fire trucks or police. Not even a remnant of smoke.”
As you soaked in what she was saying, the realization hit you. This girl was even more diabolical than you thought. Sage knew Y/N was pregnant. Whether she believed it or not, she knew. “Sage fucking set it all up. She’s been stalking her, she knew exactly how to lure Y/N to the garage and the exact route she was gonna take to get there…”
Odessa was finishing your thought before you could, “She wanted her out of the picture… both of them.” She stood up and began rushing away from the area, “I’m gonna be sick…” Danny got up and went after her. You watched them disappear down the hallway before a woman was coming up to you.
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*beep…beep…beep…beep…beep*
The steady blips echoed inside of your head, bouncing around in the fogginess of your consciousness. Wake up. You tried to force your eyes to open, but they felt too heavy. Everything was too heavy. Your body felt like it was weighed down by some invisible force. Were you sleeping? You had to be. Open your eyes. It was almost like you were dreaming but there were no vivid pictures or scenes that you could see, just darkness. What happened? Other sounds began to rise over the beeping but you couldn’t pinpoint what they were. You focused harder through the clouding in your brain. The blips. An EKG? A heart monitor? The air held a vaguely recognizable scent. Sterile, like industrial cleaner and antibacterial hand soap. Am I in the hospital? There were voices surrounding you. You didn’t recognize them, but you tried to listen, only picking up bits and pieces.
“The impact caused… medically induced… matter of patience…”
You can hear him. Jake. He sounds so far away yet so close. “A coma? How long…”
“….Until she’s stable enough… “
It was quiet, only the rhythmic beeps remaining. You were left alone. At least you thought… But then you felt his hand, trembling, but warm and familiar, grasping onto yours. “Baby, I need you to come back to me.” You willed your eyes to open again. I’m here, Jake. I’m with you. You could hear him crying as you screamed at yourself to just wake up. “Please, God. Don’t let it end like this. I need her.” He wasn’t speaking to you anymore. “You leave her alone, I’ll do anything. Just let them stay with me… Please…It’s not her time.” He was praying. I’m not leaving. I’m right here…  You tried to squeeze his hand, even just the tiniest bit, to prove it to him, but you remained motionless. It all came back in a frenzy, flashing in freeze frames in your mind. Odessa’s bathroom, the pregnancy test… Sage in the kitchen… The headlights and the intense, shooting pain right before it all went black. A collision. That’s how you ended up in the hospital. But the baby. Was the baby still in there? Is it safe? Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP. The blips were becoming more frequent, speeding up their tempo. It felt like you were in an endless skyfall, plummeting into an abyss. Jake was yelling, he sounded panicked. “Something’s wrong! Somebody help her!”
Another voice, “She’s going into v tach.” Jake was still frantic, but his voice was drifting further away. “Sir, I need you to wait outside, you can’t be in here..”
A woman, “Pushing beta blockers…”
There were more voices, but as your body went calm, so did your consciousness as the bleak darkness swallowed you up.
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Jake POV
Eight minutes. Eight fucking minutes. That was all you got with her before the jagged line that simulated her heart lit up, bouncing around in a berserk fashion. A man was pushing you out of the room, while a woman fed things into her I.V. You tried to fight your way back in, to just hold onto her hand a little longer, but it was no use. You were forced to stand there, watching as they frantically moved around her bed, shouting terms that you didn’t understand. And then they were rolling her out, down the hallway and away from you.
A doctor, the one handling her care, allowed you into her room to see her while he explained the condition she was in. “We ordered an MRI the minute the EMTs brought her in and it did reveal some swelling in the brain. Now, we’ve caught it early enough that we should be able to resolve it without surgery.” You tried to focus on what he was saying but as his lips moved, your eyes stayed trained on her. Laying limp in the bed, wires filtering out of the thin blue hospital gown she was draped in. Of the small bit of her skin that was visible, you could see deep purple bruises and drying blood littering it. She had a few small cuts on her face that you could only assume was from the glass shattering out of the window. “Ms. Y/L/N did suffer a minor fracture to her left arm. We reset the bone and we’ll apply a cast once the swelling is reduced.” He took a second to look down at the tablet in his hand, “There is also a break to her clavicle and a few broken ribs. It’s not ideal, but they don’t require surgery either. The better news is, we don’t believe the impact caused any internal bleeding, we’re not seeing signs of that.” He paused and you finally gave him your full attention as he cleared his throat, “We have placed her in a medically induced coma.” He held his hand up to stop the questions that were about to pour from your mouth. “I know how scary that sounds, but it’s for her own good. Her body will be working overtime to heal itself and it could damage her brain in the process. Keeping her comatose will ensure that doesn’t happen and allow the swelling to go down without a problem. It’s all just a matter of patience, I assure you.”
“You’re forcing her into a coma?” You were shaking your head, unable to wrap your mind around anything. “Wha- How long will she have to stay like that?”
The doctor glanced at her before turning back to you, “It’s unpredictable right now, Mr. Kiszka. We’re going to keep a close eye on her and the edema, but until she’s stable enough, this is the safest option.” He was scanning through his tablet again for a moment, “There is the matter of her pregnancy…”
The baby. Your eyes went wide with panic, “Is it- Did- She didn’t lose-“ Dread consumed you at the worst possibility.
His voice was calm but hesitant as he spoke, “I can assure you, both mom and baby are safe… There is a small risk to the pregnancy with her being comatose, but we will do everything we can to make sure they’re both taken care of.” He dropped his tablet to his side and placed a hand on your shoulder, “A nurse will be in to clean her up in a few minutes. You can stay with her as long as you want. Try talking to her, holding her hand… It’s been proven to bring physical and psychological comfort for patients in a coma and that could be extremely helpful for her healing process.” You watched him leave her room without another word.
Taking his advice, you pulled a chair up to her bed and sat down, grasping her limp hand and speaking to her. You prayed to God for her to come back to you and then you were dragged from the room. Now you were in the waiting area, unable to stand still, unable to form a single thought that didn’t revolve around her. Was she okay? Where did they take her? Nobody was telling you anything, you felt like you were going mad.
“Jake, sit down.” Your little brother had his hand on you, “The pacing isn’t helping anything, man.”
Your head dropped into your hands as he pushed you into an uncomfortable waiting room chair. “I feel like I- I c-can’t br-breathe.” The air was too thick, every choppy inhale felt like sticky tar coating your lungs.
“I think you might be having a panic attack.” Sam sat beside you, rubbing his hand across your back. “Talk to me. What happened, Jake? Is she okay?” He tried to keep his tone even, but you could hear how his voice shook.
“I don’t know.” Your hands slid into your hair, pulling at the strands. “She just started- or- I don’t- They made me leave and th- they wheeled h- her bed out…” This was all so wrong, she doesn’t deserve this.
“She’s gonna be alright, brother.” Danny was holding Odessa against his chest while she cried softly into his shirt. “It’s Y/N. She’s strong, she’ll pull through.” He was trying to be comforting, as usual, but you couldn’t take it anymore, the empty promises that she would be fine. She wasn’t fine. None of this was alright.
“She shouldn’t have to fucking pull through! This shouldn’t-“ You stood up, clenching your fists at your sides. “She should be at home, in our bed. Safe… Not fighting for her life in a fucking hospital bed because of some goddamn psychopath!” Turning back to Danny, you directed your attention at his girlfriend. “Did you know, Odessa?”
She pulled away from Danny to look at you, “Know what?” She sniffled, wiping at her nose.
The anger was bubbling out of you and you let it all loose on her, “Sage is your best friend. You brought her into our lives, introduced her to us.” Your voice was growing louder, “You can’t tell me that you didn’t know what kind of fucking person she was. You knew. You fucking knew and you still let her in…” Her eyes were wide with horror as you dropped your tone to a whisper, gritting your teeth, “Y/N being here…stuck in a fucking coma… This is just as much your fault as it is Sage’s.”
“Jake, cut it the fuck out!” Danny yelled at you now, “We all get that you’re scared and hurting and we might not understand exactly how you’re feeling, but Y/N is important to all of us.” You stared at him, your gaze flicking to Odessa who was now shaking with violent sobs as he held her. “Every one of us is here for her. For you. Don’t place blame where it doesn’t belong, you know who’s responsible for this.” The drummer turned and walked away with his girlfriend before you could say anything.
You wanted to hit your head against a wall for how you’d just acted. Odessa didn’t deserve that and you didn’t mean it, but the weight on your chest was crushing and it felt like the only way to ease the pressure was to release your anxiety. Unfortunately, it came in the form of unkempt rage that you’d unleashed upon Danny’s poor girlfriend. Everything felt like it was imploding and you bent over, placing your hands on your knees, trying to catch a breath.
Josh was coming down the hallway, giving you a look that said he knew you were about to have a meltdown, “I left her brother a voicemail, let him know what’s going on.” He draped his arm around your back, “Come take a walk with me, let’s get some air.” He attempted to pull you away from the waiting area, but you yanked yourself from his hold. “Jake, you need to calm down and take a few minutes… We’ll just go outside and get some fresh air for a bit or we can go down to the cafeteria and grab some coffee.” His hand curled around your wrist but you pried it away.
“I wish people would stop telling me to fucking calm down. None of you get it!” They may have all been scared too, but there was no possible way they could even begin to imagine how hard this was for you. “I’m not leaving. I’m gonna stay planted, right in this fucking waiting room, until somebody tells me that she’s okay…and then I’m gonna be by her side until she wakes up.” Josh opened his mouth to argue, but you stopped him. “If you want to get some air, then go Josh. Take everybody with you, I don’t give a fuck. I’m not going anywhere. Her doctor could come out at any second.” As if on cue, you heard your name being spoken. You turned around, hoping it was the doctor, but you were met by a nurse. The one that came into her room to clean the blood from her body before she was taken away. The woman had a clear plastic bag in her hand and you could see the torn, bloody clothing inside of it.
She held it out to you, “Mr. Kiszka, you are Ms. Y/L/N’s next of kin, correct?”
Your eyes went from her face to the clear bag in her hands as you reached out to take it, “What is this? Why are you giving me this?” You watched as she held up something else, a small, sealed baggie with a large orange label on it. Biohazard. A slight glare caught on the fluorescent lights when you took it from her. “No…” You fought back the bile rising in your throat, looking down at the teardrop diamond in the tiny bag, smeared with deep red streaks. Your mind went to the worst. Why would they give you her things, unless… “This isn’t… She’s not-.” Josh was beside you, taking the bag of her clothing from the nurse while you stood, frozen, staring at the ring. “Please tell me she’s not…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence as the tears started pooling in your eyes.
The nurse stopped you with a sympathetic look, “She’s not, honey.” Her hand wrapped around your arm, giving a gentle squeeze. “She’s in surgery now, the doctor will be out to talk with you as soon as he’s finished up.” She pulled her hand back before offering a small explanation, “We just figured her things would be safer with family, rather than strewn about her room.”
“Surgery? But she was…” He told you that she didn’t need surgery. Was her condition worse than they thought? Did they miss something? You looked up at her before she could turn to leave, “What happened? They said-”
“After the V tach scare, they ordered a CT scan to make sure they didn’t miss anything…” She paused for a moment, taking a breath, “Mr. Kiszka, her doctor will be out to brief you as soon as possible.”
“But th-“
She cut you off before you could speak, “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Kiszka. That’s all I know right now.”
You stared blankly as she walked off before your eyes fell back to the small bag in your left hand. “Alright, let’s sit down, Jakey.” Josh’s voice broke through, pulling you out of your head, “I’ll send Sammy for some coffee while we wait for the doctor.” He shuffled you back into a chair while he leaned in to talk to your little brother. In a moment, Sam was up and walking towards the elevators and you were left alone with your twin, the engagement ring and the looming feeling that bad news was on its way.
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Hospitals always made the concept of time weird. You could be sitting in a stiff chair for hours and it would feel like seconds, but minutes could feel like days. You refused to look at the clock because it only made your nerves worse. When the nurse came out to give you her things, it was just after midnight. The last time you checked the clock, it was 1:36am and you still hadn’t heard anything about her or the surgery she was receiving. You didn’t even know what the surgery was for. Nobody would tell you anything despite your desperate attempts to pry for information. Every minute that ticked by only made your anxiety grow. You looked around at your family, all of them still here with you, waiting for a shred of good news. Josh was still beside you, occasionally reaching over to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. As chaotic as he usually was, you could always count on him to be a grounding and comforting presence when it counted. Sammy was across from you, on the other side of the waiting room, chewing on his fingernails. Next to you, he was probably handling this the hardest. He loved her like she was his own blood. They all did, but her and your little brother had a strong bond that, admittedly, you were a little jealous of sometimes. She’d always say, ‘He’s got a special light to him.’ You never knew what she meant by it, but now, the way his glistening eyes would meet yours every so often and he’d give a soft, compassionate tilt to his mouth, you understood her perfectly. Your eyes drifted to Danny and Odessa. Her small frame stretched across the vinyl loveseat with her head resting on your chosen brother’s lap. He ran his fingers over her hair while she slept. Guilt crept over you at how you’d spoken to her. How you accused her of having anything to do with this. Y/N would tear you apart if she’d have heard how awful you were. You could almost hear her scolding you, ‘Jacob Thomas, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re being a dickhead.’ Picturing her standing in front of you with her hands on her hips and her left eyebrow raised, it made you chuckle quietly to yourself. Danny caught your gaze, pulling you out of your thoughts, and you opened your mouth, ready to spill an apology, but he just shook his head and mouthed at you, ‘It’s okay.’ You knew it wasn’t okay, not even close, but you made a mental note to give Dess a full apology when she was awake. Turning to your twin, you tapped his leg, “I’m gonna stretch my legs. Be right back.”
As you stood up, Josh followed, “You want me to come with you?” Before you could open your mouth to turn him down, you were interrupted.
“We’re looking for a Jacob Kiszka.” You all turned in unison to find two men, in suits, standing behind you. Glancing back at your brothers, they were all alert. Sam came to stand with you and Josh, and Danny was shaking Odessa awake.
“Uh. Jake.” Stepping forward, you held your hand out as a formality, unsure of what was about to unfold.
One of the men grasped your trembling hand in a firm shake, “Mr. Kiszka, I’m Detective Walsh, this is Detective Dawson.” He nodded towards the other man before pulling his hand away and opening up a notepad. “I first wanna say, we’re very sorry for what you’re dealing with right now. We don’t want to cause any more stress to you or your family in a time like this, but we received a call from a nurse, Mrs. Alvez.” He paused, reading over his page of notes, “She says that you were making a pretty serious accusation about the car accident that your girlfriend was involved in.”
“She’s my fiancee…” You corrected him, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “And it’s not an accusation, it’s the truth. Sage did this.”
Det. Walsh held his hand up, “I meant no offense, son. I just need you to understand how consequential this claim could be if it is the truth. Mr. Kiszka, this woman could be facing an attempted murder charge and…” He was hesitant on what he wanted to say next, but the other man, Det. Dawson finished his thought.
“If things go south, she’ll be looking at involuntary manslaughter or, worst case, first degree.” He scratched his chin and you couldn’t help but feel his lack of compassion. “Now, Mr. Kiszka, you’re going to have to fill us in here because right now, it’s just a big ol’ ‘He said/She said.’ What makes you think the collision was on purpose?”
The look of disgust on your face must have been evident, “Worst case? Are you fucking kidding me? What th-” Your mouth hung on the last syllable as you looked behind Dawson to see her doctor coming towards you, pulling a mask from his face. You stepped around the detectives to meet the doctor, questions pouring from your mouth before you could process them. “Is she okay? I want to see her. Why did she need surgery? You said that she-”
“She’s alright, Mr. Kiszka. We have her stabilized… We took her for a CT scan and it showed that her spleen had been punctured by one of the broken ribs.” He took a few seconds to let you process the information before continuing, “We were able to get in and repair the spleen using electrocauterization. The procedure was quick, we didn’t face any complica-”
“It went quick? I’ve been waiting for hours to hear something. Where is she?” You tried to move past him, but he grabbed your shoulder, stopping you.
He waited for you to face him again, “We needed to keep a close watch on her to make sure that there was no more damage. I do have good news for you, Mr. Kiszka… The edema was a lot more mild than we had initially thought and the swelling has already decreased substantially.” Your brows were drawn together, trying to understand what he was saying. He simplified the best he could, “There’s no longer a need to keep her in the induced coma.” His lips lifted into a small smile, “Once the anesthesia wears off, it won’t be long before she wakes up and I’m sure she would love to have you there when she does.”
“I can see- She’s gonna wake up? I- Can I go to her now?” Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. 
“Yes, I’ll take you to her room. Now, I will warn you, when she does wake up, there might be some confusion… Things are going to be foggy for her, but it’s important not to overload her with a ton of details at once. She’s not completely out of the woods yet. She’s got a long healing process ahead of her and it’s best for her and the baby to keep stress at a minimum.”
You were nodding fast, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do anything. I just- Can I-”
The doctor let out a quiet chuckle, “Come on.” He turned around to walk you to her room but as you went to follow him, a hand stopped you.
You turned to see Det. Dawson, gripping your arm. “We’re not finished yet, Mr. Kiszka.” Pulling yourself from his grasp, you were ready to raise hell, but the other detective stopped you.
Det. Walsh pulled the other man behind him and met you with an empathetic look, “Go ahead and see your girl, son. We’ll talk later.” As you fell into step behind the doctor, you could hear him scolding his partner. “Give the kid a break, Dawson. He almost lost his pregnant girlfriend, you asshole.”
When you entered her room, you stopped inside the doorway. A woman was standing over her, wiping at the cuts on her face. She looked up with a polite smile on her face, “Oh. Dr. Brooks, I was just finishing up with some more antiseptic. I will be out of your hair in just a second.” She went back to her task and you waited patiently until she was done.
Once the woman stepped out of the room, Dr. Brooks took a moment to look over her vitals before he exited too, leaving you alone with her. You pulled a chair up to her bed, your whole body shaking at the memory of the last time you were here, just hours ago. She looked like she was in a peaceful slumber, a hard contrast from how lifeless she looked before. Reaching up, you brushed the tangled hair from her face, letting your thumb graze over one of the shallow scrapes on her cheek as you whispered to her. “Hey, pretty girl… You really had me scared for a while there.” You pulled your hand away to wipe the single tear that fell from your eye and grasped her hand. “Wake up, my love. I just need to hear your voice. I need you to tell me that you love me and that you’re never gonna try to leave me again.” You brought her hand to your lips, pressing them to her knuckles. You kept talking to her, willing her to wake up, for what felt like hours until you finally leaned back, falling asleep in the chair while your fingers stayed laced with hers.
___________________________________________________
Her POV
Your eyes opened briefly before drooping closed again. You tried to bring your hand up to rub away the sleep that laid heavy on your lids, but something was weighing on it. As you made a move to sit up, you were met with a stabbing pain in your left side. You dropped back into the pillow with a hiss as your eyes shot open. You glanced around, trying to get a feel for your surroundings when your ears picked up on the familiar blips. Hospital. You looked down at your hand, still stuck against the bed as something laid over it. “Jake?” Your voice croaked out through your dry throat. His even breaths gave away the fact that he was sleeping, using your right hand as a pillow. Your attention went to your left arm, nestled snug inside of a sling. Every small movement was coupled with an almost unbearable amount of pain. Quiet whimpers fell from your mouth as you attempted to pull your hand free again and this time it woke Jake.
He lifted his head and turned to face you, running his hands over his face. When his eyes found you yours, he stood up abruptly and leaned over you. “Baby… You’re awake, you’re actually…” He trailed off and dropped to hug you but when you sucked in a sharp breath, wincing from the pain, he took his hands off of you. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? I didn’t-“
Finally able to lift your right hand, riddled with pins and needles, you held it up to silence him, “You didn’t hurt me, Jake.” It was a lie, but the terrified look on his face made your heart ache and you couldn’t bring yourself to be completely honest. “There is a good bit of pain though…What happened?” You tried to sit up again but he stopped you.
Jake had his hand on your shoulder, “Take it easy, love. Here.” He knelt down to the panel that controlled the bed positions and clicked the button that raised the top of the bed. 
“S-stop. Jake, stop.” Your face was twisted into a grimace, “It hurts, I- Please, I can’t.” Tears were dripping down your face as you gripped your side. Each breath felt like somebody was piercing your lungs with a branding iron. He straightened back up and reached to hit the call button for a nurse. His hands were shaking hard, like he was scared, and the expression on his face was showing the same emotion. You grabbed his hand before he could pull it away from the bed and brought it up to your face, pressing a single kiss to his palm. He moved his hand to cup your cheek with the gentlest touch, wiping away your stream of tears. His own eyes were shining and you placed your hand over his, “Baby, what happened? Why am I here?” His lip trembled but as he opened his mouth, two people were coming into the room.
Jake turned away from you to greet them, “Dr. Brooks, she just woke up but she’s in a lot of pain.” You watched as a woman, your nurse, stepped around the bed to your I.V. stand.
“That’s to be expected, Mr. Kiszka.” He patted Jake’s shoulder and moved past him to stand beside the nurse. “We’re gonna give you something for the pain now, you should feel better in a few minutes.” The woman connected a syringe to the access port on the I.V. tubing and began feeding the liquid through it. “Ms. Y/L/N, we haven’t officially met,” The doctor held his hand out to you, “But, I’m Dr. Brooks. Me and my team have been working really hard to make sure Mr. Kiszka would be able to take you home in one piece.” You slid your hand into his as he nodded towards Jake.
There was a dull throbbing in the back of your head and your mouth was too dry, “Can I have some water, please?” The nurse looked up, giving you a kind smile and left the room, only to return a few seconds later with a small cup and a plastic pitcher. She poured a bit into the cup and offered it to you and you wasted no time in gulping it all down. Jake took the cup from you and grasped your hand again. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Your gaze went from your boyfriend to Dr. Brooks, pleading for an explanation.
The two men shared a look before your doctor spoke up, “You were in a car accident, Ms. Y/L/N. EMTs brought you into the emergency room last night and you were in pretty rough shape.” You listened intently as he ran down, what felt like, a never ending list of injuries and complications and procedures. “Can you remember anything at all?” His brows were pinched as he studied you. “Take your time, I’m just going to look you over.”
Your doctor was maneuvering around your thin gown, lifting it to get a glimpse at how you were healing. You thought back, trying to pull the last memory that you could recover while he continued to examine each bruise and stitch, one by one. As pieces started to fall into place, you retracted your hand from Jake’s with a gasp and flattened it across your belly, “Jake, I-” Panic began to consume you as you remembered the night prior at Odessa’s. The positive test. Did Jake know? Were you still even pregnant? You couldn’t bring yourself to ask that question out of fear at what the answer might be.
“Hey… Look at me.” Jake’s voice was soft, but you were startled by his hand sliding over yours and resting on your stomach. When your eyes traveled up to his face, you were met with the warmest smile he’d even given you. “You’re okay. Both of you.” He knew. Your eyes widened and he gave a gentle nod, lacing his fingers between your own, “My loves.”
You bit down on your lip to keep it from shaking but you couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over your lashes. Dr. Brooks cleared his throat as he put your gown back in place and took a step away from you. “Everything is looking good. I’ll give you two some time, but I will back in a bit to get a cast on this arm.” He pointed to the sling before making a move to leave, stopping in the doorway to turn back to you, “I’m sure your family is eager to visit with you, but keep the excitement to a minimum. It’s very important that you get your rest.”
Jake broke away from you to shake the man’s hand, “Thank you so much, Dr. Brooks. For everything.”  The doctor extended his own hand, giving a firm squeeze, and then he was gone. Jake was back at your side in a blink, wiping at your wet cheeks. “Baby, don’t cry.” He carefully sat on the edge of your bed.
Short bursts of memory flashed through your mind, some more vague than others, but some extremely vivid. “Jake, I heard you…” He gave you a questioning look. “You were praying… Asking God to let me stay. To let us stay.” You reached up to brush his hair away from his face, “I thought you would be so mad.”
“Y/N, when Odessa called me about the accident and then told me about- That you were pregnant…” He hesitated, unsure of what he wanted to say, “I know what I said before, but the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach at what could’ve happened, how badly this could’ve turned out… Love, I didn’t expect the relief I got when the doctor told me that you were both safe and now all I can think about is the future. Our future.”
A smile cracked across your face, “I love you, Jacob.” The way his face lit up made your heart swell and you pulled him down by his shirt. Once he was close enough, your hand went to the back of his neck, guiding his lips to yours.
When he pulled back, just a few inches from your face, his eyes were still closed but his brows were creased. “I’ve been waiting forever to hear you say that… I almost thought I’d never hear it again.”
Pushing his hair behind his ear, you cupped his cheek, “Baby, I-.” You were cut off by a few taps on the door, both of you looking in that direction at the same time.
“Jake, we brought you some coff-.” Sammy’s mouth hung open as he and Josh came into the room. “She’s- You’re awake.” You giggled at his observation.
Josh was closing the distance to you, moving across the room at hyper speed, “Ahh, Y/N, as beautiful as ever!” Jake stood from the bed, giving his twin the space to hug you while mumbling a warning to be careful. “It’s so good to see you awake, mama.” His lips curled into his famous, beaming grin as he poked at your lower belly, “I guess that takes on a pretty literal meaning now, huh?”
You swatted his hand away, unable to hold back your smile. “Yeah, I guesso…” You cupped your hand around your mouth, whispering loud enough for him and Jake to both hear, “Don’t worry, Joshy. We’ll definitely name it after you.” You shot him a wink.
“Yeah, over my dead body.” Jake deadpanned, shoving his twin’s shoulder. The two of them began their playful bickering and your eyes flashed to the youngest Kiszka, just a few steps inside of the room, looking at anything but you.
“Sammy?” You waited for him to give you his attention, “I can’t say that I don’t bite, but that’s never made you keep your distance before. C’mere.” Your joke would usually have made him laugh, but he stayed planted and silent. You held your hand out to him, beckoning him to come closer. He was hesitant and you could tell, but he finally started walking towards you. He was picking at his cuticles like he didn’t know what else to do with himself so you reached out and took one of his hands in yours. You looked up at him, but he refused to meet your eyes. You squeezed his hand, forcing him to turn to you, and saw his eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Sammy, why are you upset? I’m the one with the broken bones here.” It was your second attempt at getting a laugh out of him, but he remained quiet. “Hey…”
“You almost died, Y/N…” His lip quivered, something very uncharacteristic for him, and it broke your heart.
You sat up fully with a wince. The pain meds had kicked in, leaving you with just a mild cramping where your ribs were fractured. You yanked on Sam’s arm, pulling him down to sit on the bed. “But, I didn’t die, Sammy. You couldn’t get rid of me that easily.” You smiled again, nudging his shoulder.
“It’s not funny.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “You were gonna leave me to fend for myself with those two idiots.” He gestured to his older brothers who were standing by. There he is. That’s the Sammy you know. But he was gone too soon as he looked back to you, a heavy sadness in his deep brown eyes. “This was really fucking scary, Y/N.”
“Oh, Sammy…” You pulled him into a hug with your only functioning arm, holding him tight, but he didn’t make a move to hug you back. “I’m okay, honey. I’m not going anywhere, promise.” You felt him nod against you as he brought one arm around you, staying far from the left half of your body. “Okay, sappy Sam. You’re gonna make me cry, asshole.” You playfully pushed him away.
He stood up from your bed with a quip, “Ahh. So you do have a heart then?”
Jake stepped in before you could return a smart remark, “Alright, guys. She needs to rest a bit before they come to put her cast on.” His brothers tried to protest but he stood his ground. “You can both come back later or tomorrow. I really appreciate you guys being here, but go home and get some sleep or a shower. I want some time to myself with her.”
Joshy was coming forward to give you a parting hug, “That’s awfully selfish of you. Mom would be disappointed that you aren’t sharing.” He bent down to press a kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be back as soon as your guard dog says it’s okay, sweetheart.”
“Fuck off, Josh.” Jake pulled his twin into a hug before moving to his younger brother and repeating the gesture, “Send Danny and Odessa back for a visit on your way out.”
Sam broke away from the hug, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced at you, “Uhh…They left a couple hours ago… After Dess woke up, she wanted to go. She tried to make Daniel stay, but he- I’m sure they’ll be back.” He was holding something back and you looked to Jake to see his lips pressed in a thin line, staring at the floor. His guilty face.
“Okay.” Josh clasped his hands together, “We’re gonna go…” He patted his little brother on the back and led him out of the room with a final wave goodbye.
After they were gone, you directed your attention to Jake, “What did you do?” He lifted his head to look at you, a shocked expression over his face as he mumbled that he had no idea what you were talking about. “Jacob, you have that look. The one that says ‘oh shit, I fucked up.’ So what did you do?”
“I did fuck up, Y/N…” You waited for him to elaborate but he steered the conversation down another path. “Love, what- Do you remember anything from the accident? Like how you ended up there or who the other driver was?”
You laid back against the bed, scouring your mind for anything you could find. “I can’t- There’s flashes of scenes, but nothing is super clear.”
He came to sit on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on your leg, “You went to watch movies with Odessa and Sage showed up and then-”
“No, I remember all of that. She was acting insane, saying that you wanted to be with her and I was just in the way.” You shook your head as it all started to slowly come back into view. “Dess ripped into her, I’ve never seen her get mad like that. I slapped Sage, she pushed me and then she left.”
“Can you remember anything past that? Anything between being at Odessa’s to waking up here?” Jake was studying your face, waiting for any indication that you knew. “Take your time, baby. If you can’t remember, don’t force it.”
Things were blurry, but you could still vaguely picture it. The phone call about the garage. The fear you felt on your way there, worried about your business being destroyed. “The garage… Jake, the food truck. There was a fire, I was going to the garage. Dess was following me there, she was right behind me. I remember looking in the rearview mirror to see her and then there were other headlights coming at me. Everything is blank after that, but the truck… I need to-”
“The truck is fine, Y/N. There was never a fire.” He was clenching his jaw and you could feel the anger radiating from him, “Sage made it all up. She came up with some crazy scheme to get you downtown. She was the one that hit you, on purpose.” No way she was that crazy to not only inflict harm on you, risk killing you, knowing that you were pregnant, but to also risk her own life? “Odessa was there, love. She saw the whole thing. It was Sage.”
You were at a loss for words. How had things gotten this fucked up? The throbbing in your head was back and you just wanted to go to sleep in the hopes that you would wake up at home, in your bed, next to Jake. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore… I’m tired.” You brought your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose.
Jake’s face softened from the scowl he’d been wearing, “Is the pain back? Is it your head?”
“I’m fine. I think this has just been a lot and I need rest like the doctor said.” You didn’t want to think about Sage or the wreck.
“Okay, I’ll put the bed flat so you can lay down.” He went to stand up but you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
You scooted over in your small bed and pulled on his arm, “You too.” He shook his head, arguing that the bed wasn’t big enough and he didn’t want to hurt you. “Jacob, sit down and let me lay my head on you. You don’t even have to touch me, I just want to be near you, please.” You pouted your lip at him and watched as he tried to fight the smile curling his lip. He huffed out a breath and climbed back onto the bed, shuffling up to sit beside you. Once situated, he lifted his arm and let you tuck into him. His hand rested just barely on your shoulder. You could tell he was afraid to cause you any pain or discomfort, but this was the most comfortable you’ve felt all day. Your fingers were on his leg, pulling as the threads of a tear in his jeans. He kissed the top of your head as you leaned against him, slowly dozing off. The last thing you felt before sleep consumed you was his lips in your hair while he whispered that he loved you and his palm, laying gently over your lower tummy.
_______________________________________________________
You awoke to the chattering of voices. Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the fluorescent lights above you. You blinked a few times, forcing your eyes to adjust to the lighting and looked to the window. It was dark outside so you must have slept for a while. The first thing you noticed was the plain white cast on your left arm, the second thing was that Jake was gone. You looked around the room before catching sight of him. He was standing in the hallway, just outside the door, talking with someone out of your view. “Baby?” Your voice was raspy as you called out to him. For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you, but he was stalking into the room in an instant, two men in suits trailing behind him. Once he was at your side, pushing the hair from your forehead, you lifted your left arm, “How did they put this on without me waking up?” He let out a soft chuckle but there was a hint of annoyance in his demeanor. You looked behind him to the men who followed him into your room. “What’s going on?”
One of the men stepped around Jake, offering you his hand, “Ms. Y/LN, I am Detective Walsh, this is my partner, Det. Dawson. We just have a few questions to ask you, if that’s okay?” He had a deep, gravelly voice with a twang just like a cowboy from an old western film. You let him shake your hand and gave a small nod. “Thank you, I really appreciate it, ma’am. Now, we-”
He was cut off by the other man, “We’ve already heard from your boyfriend that this other girl, Sage, she’s been stalking you? If that’s the case, why haven’t you filed a report or gotten a restraining order?” You were taken aback, but Jake was fuming. You could see it in the way he rolled his eyes, flared his nostrils. He was clenching his jaw so hard you were sure his teeth would shatter at any second.
You took his hand in yours and gave him a soft smile, willing him to relax, before turning your attention back to Dawson. “She has been stalking me. I have proof and she admitted it to me before the accident.”
He shook his head with a laugh like he didn’t believe anything you were saying. “You’re gonna have to forgive me, but some things just aren’t adding up. You say she’s a crazy stalker, but this woman tells us that she was in an intimate relationship with the both of you.” You started to speak but he held his hand up, effectively silencing you. “I’m not finished… She is saying that she and Mr. Kiszka here started to grow closer and you didn’t like that very much. You were jealous and now you’re making up these wild stories to ruin her life. So you can see why I’m confused?”
“What is your fucking problem, man?” Jake was in front of him, their faces inches apart. “Sage is a basketcase! Any decent cop would see straight through her fucking lies.” His voice took on a terrifyingly calm tone. “Makes me wonder how you got this job…”
Suddenly Jake was stumbling backwards as the detective shoved his chest, “You’re a cocky little shit, you know that?”
“Dawson, that’s enough! Get the hell out of here, I’ll finish this myself!” Det. Walsh was pushing his partner towards the door, “You’re done here. You can go back and tell the Captain what the hell you just did.” He waited for Dawson to leave the room before turning back to you. “I can’t apologize on his behalf, but I am sorry that you kids just had to endure that with everything that you’re already dealing with.”
Surely this was some wild fever dream you were stuck in. “Did I just witness a real life good cop/bad cop situation?” You huffed in disbelief. “What is that guy’s issue?”
“Well, ma’am, I don’t know that I’d call myself a good cop, but he is a real piece of work.” He dragged his hand down his face, clearly exasperated, and looked at Jake, “I didn’t intend on any of that to happen. We already have multiple witnesses that corroborated your claims and that little redheaded girl gave some pretty specific details when we talked to her, including information on an assault…” He didn’t need to elaborate any further on that, you and Jake both knew what he was talking about.
“If you guys had all of this knowledge already, why was he acting like we were lying? Why are you here right now? You should be putting her in handcuffs.” Jake was pacing, something you’re sure he’d probably spent 20 of the last 36 hours doing.
Walsh took a deep breath, “Look kid, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” He took a couple steps towards Jake, holding his notepad out, “I just need you both to write statements. Recount every single piece of information you can that will help seal this deal.” He turned to you after Jake took the pad, “You said you have proof of her stalking you? If you can get me that proof, that’s even better.”
“I do, it’s on my phone. I’m just not sure where my phone is…” You maneuvered your body to the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the pain as you placed your feet on the ground. “Baby, where’s all my stuff?” Using the I.V. stand for leverage, you pulled yourself up to stand.
Jake was at your side in an instant, “Hey, I have it in my jacket. I’ll get it, just sit back down.” His hand was on your hip as he tried to gently force you back into the bed.
Your legs were a bit shaky and you grabbed onto his shoulder to hold yourself up. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you leaned into him, “Jake, I have to go pee…Can you help me to the bathroom?” He let out a quiet laugh, hooking your good arm over his shoulder, and led you towards the small bathroom in the corner of your room. The detective stepped aside as you passed him and Jake mumbled that he’d get the phone in a minute. Dragging your I.V. stand along, you pushed it inside before breaking away from Jake.
He was hesitant to let go of you, “Are you okay by yourself?”
“I’m using the bathroom, Jacob, not going into war…I’ll be fine.” You flashed him a smile as you closed the door between the two of you. Admittedly, it was a little difficult trying to pull your underwear down with the cast on your left arm limiting your movement. Sitting on the toilet was a task on its own with the sharp pain in your side, but it was even worse standing back up. After flushing the toilet, you shuffled to the sink to wash your hands, careful not to get the cast wet. When you lifted your head to the mirror in front of you, a small gasp left your mouth. Your face was adorned with tiny cuts and a dark purple bruise, high on your left cheekbone. Your finger traced over a cut on your forehead and then one in the center of the bruise, decorated with 3 thin pieces of medical tape. Taking a couple steps backward, you carefully gathered the bottom of your gown, bunching it up and lifting it to view the rest of your body. Your mouth hung open as you saw the bruising over your ribcage, coupled with the few stitches from where they went in to repair your spleen. It started to sink in, how bad this was. How much worse it could’ve been. Your eyes drifted to your belly and you placed your palm over it, as an unwarranted flood of emotions came crashing down on you. The burning tears began to fall, accompanied by choppy sobs as you realized how quickly this could have ended before it really even began. The pregnancy was unexpected and definitely unplanned, but the thought of something taking it all away from you made the sobbing worse. You put your hand over your mouth to mute your cries, not wanting Jake to hear you. After a minute, you had calmed down and dried your face, trying to make it look like you didn’t just have a mental breakdown. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror and moved to exit the bathroom.
When you emerged, Jake was shaking Walsh’s hand. His eyes flicked to you and his face dropped slightly before he returned his attention to the detective. He knew you’d been crying… You took a deep breath to prepare for his concerned inquisition just as Det. Walsh was coming towards you, his hand extended, “Ms. Y/L/N, it’s been a pleasure, despite the circumstances.” You accepted his hand with a polite smile. “We should be able to get an IP address from those messages you two received. If they lead back to her, paired with the statements from your friends and family, it should be more than enough to handle this situation. I’ll leave you to heal up and I’ll be in touch within the next few days.”
“Thank you for this…These past few weeks have been a nightmare and I just want to put it all behind us.” He released your hand and with a final nod to Jake, he was gone.
“What’s wrong?” You turned your back to Jake and shuffled back to your bed, refusing to answer his question. “Why were you crying?” He grabbed your arm, stepping in front of you with concern etched over his face. “Is the pain getting worse?”
You shook your head and forced a smile, “It’s nothing, baby. I wasn’t even crying.” You moved around him and crawled onto the stiff mattress. He didn’t respond, but when you looked up at him once you were settled on the bed, he had a look that said he knew you were lying. You let out a sigh and held your hand out to him. “Okay, I was crying…I just- I saw the bruises and the stitches and I-.” You squeezed your eyes shut, chewing on your trembling lip. Jake grasped your hand, sitting down beside you. “So much could’ve gone wrong, Jake. I know it’s already bad, but what if…” Your voice trailed off.
“I know, love.” He cupped your face with the softest touch. “I spent too many hours imagining the worst in that waiting room right down the hall… But you’re here and you’re healing and you’re both gonna be fine.” You leaned into his hand with a quiet hum as he continued, “There’s no more ‘what ifs.’ Not right now, anyways. And all I wanna focus on, is right now.” His lips curled into a smile as he threw his arm out in a sweeping gesture, speaking in his british accent, “Cast your worries to the open sea and let the waves carry them to far horizons at the edge of the world…”
A laugh shook your chest as you pulled him towards you and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “Make me a promise?” He pulled back far enough to look at you, a slight raise to his eyebrow as he waited to hear your request. “The nursery isn’t gonna be pirate themed…” Your giggle returned at the look of hurt on his face.
“Now that’s just plain mean.” Jake tried to fight his smile but failed miserably as he stared at your wide grin. He cupped your face again, catching you off guard and leaned forward, “I love you, Y/N.” It was the last thing he said before he graced you with the sweetest kiss.
_______________________________________________________
After nine long days of being stuck in the hospital, you were finally on your way home. You couldn’t have been happier to leave. The doctors and nurses were wonderful, but the food was horrible. There were a few times you’d convinced Sammy to smuggle you in snacks. The breathing exercises they had you doing everyday were helping your ribs heal and the pain was already a lot better than it had been. Dr. Brooks was adamant about keeping up with the exercises and he demanded lots of bed rest, but you were sick of being in bed. You knew you still had a long road to recovery, but with the swelling in your head completely gone, the doctor was confident in his decision to send you home. When he came into your room the night before with the news, you wanted to leap around with excitement, but you refrained.
You stared out the window with the same smile you’ve had since you woke up, knowing today was the day you got to go home. It was coasting into the early evening and Jake glanced at you before looking back to the road ahead, “What’s the first thing you wanna do when we get back, love?” His hand was holding onto yours over the center console.
“Take a blistering hot shower.” You answered without the slightest hesitation, causing Jake to chuckle. It was the truth though. The hospital showers never got hot enough, the water pressure sucked and there was always a nurse in the bathroom with you, forcing you to sit on the hard plastic bathing chair while you cleansed yourself. ‘It’s just a safety precaution, dear.’ That’s what she would always say. Jake had barely been at home in those nine days. You had to force him to leave on day three to get a change of clothes. He tried to argue that Josh could just pick them up and drop them off for him, but you refused and told him that you needed a few things that his twin just simply wouldn’t be able to find. On day seven, it wasn’t as hard to get him to make a trip home. You were both going a little stir-crazy being cooped up in the small room without much to do. Tv was boring, there were only so many card games to play and your mood swings were back in full force. Between the changing hormones in your body and bland beige walls you were forced to stare at 24/7, you could’ve sworn you were going insane. But now, as Jake pulled into the driveway, you’d never felt more calm. “I can’t wait to sleep in my bed.”
“I think that’s what I missed most.” He put the car in park and killed the engine, “Squeezing in that hospital bed did a number on my back.” Your body was buzzing as you pushed the car door open. Jake hopped out and came around to help you, even though you didn’t need it. You let him take your hand and close the door before leading you up the path.
He unlocked the front door and waited for you to step inside. You kicked your shoes off and went into the living room, “Not even a welcome home party?” Turning back to Jake, you crossed your arms over your chest with a disapproving look.
He came up, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you against him carefully, “Odessa and Sammy wanted to throw one, but I selfishly told them no…” You let your arms snake around his neck, twirling his hair in your fingers. “They were all there every single day. I just wanted you to myself today.” He kissed your forehead and began walking you backwards. “Now about that hot shower?” His hand slid from your hip to your ass, giving it a pinch.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him, “Hmm… You better be careful Mr. Kiszka, doc says no strenuous activities.” You gave an innocent smile before breaking away from him and padding down the hallway. Stopping right inside of the bathroom door, you turned back to Jake, looking him dead in the eye with a mischievous smirk, “But maybe you can help me practice my breathing?”
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Text
Anytime (bangchan)
"HEARTS ON FIRE TONIGHT FEEL MY BOOONES IGNITE LOVE FEELS LIKE WAAR WAAR FEELS LIKE WAAAR WAA-". You abruptly stop your tone deaf singing over old all time low songs and gasp when your car suddenly starts slowing down by itself, all the little warning lights on your dashboard turn on simultaneously and a screeching sound starts blaring out of nowhere.
You act in no time. Slamming your foot hard on the break you turn on your right blinker and veer your vehicle on the side of the desolated road by using pure engine inertia until the car just shuts down on its own, leaving you in a stunned silence, bleary eyed and slightly panicky as to whatever the fuck just happened.
You look in your rear view mirror and make sure the road is actually empty and thank whatever god up there for allowing you to pull to the side relatively safely, considering you could have just caused a mass chain rear end collision if it wasn't for your fast instincts. And just the general desolation of this side road you always drive down on your way back home from work when avoiding the worst of traffic is your main priority. Except that it is quite a dark, scarcely illuminated, less than safe road. And you are alone. And your car has most definitely just broken down. And it's almost 9pm on a winter night. Crap.
You swallow down that slimy, unsettling felling creeping up in your throat and try to revive the engine a few more times to no avail. OK. It's fine. It's going to be fine. I'm definitely not just stranded here in the middle of nowhere am I? You talk to yourself out loud, desperately trying to keep your sanity as you finally decide to fish your phone out of your bag and dial up the emergency tow truck number. After a couple rings a dispatcher picks up and you try your best to remain calm and explain the situation you are in as thoroughly as you can: "right, an operator is on its way but it might take up to an hour and half m'am, we suggest you keep safe and display the emergency triangle tripod roadside while you wait".
Once the dispatcher hangs up you sigh in frustration, "now what", you mumble, a shiver already trailing down your back from both the cold and the slight panic threatening to build up in your belly. You do as instructed and then quickly get back in your car, now fully shivering from the cold: how the hell am I gonna wait here in the cold for an hour and not freeze or get robbed in the mean time? Acting merely on impulse you unlock your phone once again and click on the emergency contact icon, silently praying Chan is not currently wearing his thousands dollars noise cancelling headphones in the studio.
"Hello? Y/n what's up?". You exhale loudly, a little silver of hope twinkling in the progressively darker night, "hey Channie… Sorry to call you at this hour…", Chan giggles on the other end of the line and you can almost imagine the way his eyes are crinkling and his dimples are showing, "I've literally just started working, not even 30 minutes ago. I'm a night owl you know", "hahaha yeah… So I uh… I'm kinda stranded on the side of the road? I'm like.. I think I'm like a little under 15 miles away from home but my car broke down… And the emergency truck won't be here for another hour or so", "WHAT? oh my god are you okay?".
You can basically hear Chan springing to his feet so fast his spinning chair rolls away from beneath him, the concern and slight alarm in his voice something you rarely get to hear from him. Chan is and has always been your rock. Through heaven and high water, you knew you could rely on him ever since second grade when one day you had forgotten your lunch box at home and found yourself sitting alone in the school canteen, your stomach grumbling as you watched all the kids eating their meals so enthusiastically, and this little boy with short dark hair and the cutest dimples stepped away from his friends table and offered you half of his sandwich and half of his apple.
That simple, kind gesture had become the start of your almost 2 decade long friendship, he went from always stuffing his lunchbox with extra food for you just in case you forgot again to holding your hand in the ER at 15 when you had the most painful appendicitis to helping you move in into your first big girl apartment, carrying all the heavy boxes for you without you even asking, him being the true gentleman he was. No wonder you loved him to pieces.
"I'm okay, just a little cold", you mumble, trying to mask the uncertainty and panic in your voice, "I'll be right there. Please send me your location. And lock yourself inside. Is the engine totally dead? Can you turn on the radio without starting the ignition?", Chan asks, his voice now more even and calm, his natural care taker mode activating instantly once he assessed the situation.
You try to turn on the radio as he suggested, and to your surprise, it works just fine judging by the sudden blasting of guitar riffs on the very same Love Like War track you were listening to earlier, you flinch at the volume that seems ridiculously too loud now that your basically parked and alone in the dead of the road, and press your button down to lower it a bit.
"Yeah the radio is working fine", "okay, great. Keep it on until I get there, and turn on your mainlights and all four of your blinkers as well". Once again, you do as you're told, you quickly send him your geolocalisation and double check all the lights are still fully functioning while you hear Chan scrambling to grab his keys and jacket and heading out the door, "done. I'm twinkling like a Christmas tree right now", you joke half heartedly, your breath starting to condense from the cold when you speak, "great, santa is coming!", he giggles and the pauses, "do you want me to stay on the line with you?", he asks more seriously, and something pleasant, unexpectedly warm settles in your heart and you smile to yourself, "it's okay. I don't want to risk distracting you while you drive. I'll be here, listening to my emo playlist, you drive safely please", "that's a good idea. It's going to be alright ye? Just hang in there".
You think 15 minutes cannot last an eternity. But that's exactly how long it feels like you've been freezing in the cold for until you see Chan's car pull up. As soon as you see him turning off his headlights you leap out of your car and fly into his open wide arms, instantly crashing into his chest as he lifts you off the ground, hands already vigorously rubbing your back, trying to warm you up:"I don't think I've ever been so relieved, I'm so happy to see you oh my god", you chuckle, your teeth chattering as Chan envelopes you into his arms, even unzipping his jacket and pulling it over your arms to warm you up, and you have to admit…. His jacket smells divine. He smells divine. Signature vanilla and musk and… Manly.
It's inexplicable but Chan has been smelling the same, musky but sweet, fresh, manly scent ever since he was like 19 or so. "Likewise, I'm so happy you're safe", he giggles, patting your hair, "now get in my car and warm yourself up a bit, I turned up the ac and left an extra jacket on the passanger seat for you". There it is. Again. That fuzzy, warm feeling in your heart that makes your cheeks flash red for no reason. "What about you? Are you not going to wait in there for the tow truck with me?", you ask confusedly and he giggles, his deep dimples on full show as he squeaks, "of course I am, I just want to check your car real quick. Maybe push it slightly to the very edge of the road some more so it'll be out of the way should cars drive down here".
You let Chan do his thing and quickly get in his car, just eager to warm yourself up, to finally feel like you have hands again. The night feels so cold your fingers had slowly started to become numb from the low temperatures. Once you're wrapped up in your best friend's spare jacket and huddled close to the air vent, you take a deep breath and stretch out your hands, allowing yourself to relax and soak up the relief running through your veins.
Chan had this power, this ability to make everything feel fine again. You had know him basically your whole life and could recall each and every time he managed to make everything better, each and every time he was there for you, reliable and strong and supportive like no one else you had ever met.
"Ffuck it's cold!". As soon as Chan climbs back in the car he lurches for the air vent, turning up the warm air setting to the maximum and you giggle at his poor state, offering your arms the same way he did for you just a few minutes ago, "aww thank you, sweetheart", he says over your shoulder, thick aussie accent and giggles and all as he squeezes you, a thin layer of sweat from the exertion of having to manually push your car to the side, his still persistent, scent travelling up your nostrils.
You swallow down whatever stupid funny feeling in your throat and sigh happily, "thank YOU for rescuing me, as per usual", you confess, suddenly not feeling like letting go of him just yet, kind of enjoying the way his back muscles feel underneath your palms, the way his arms are tight around you, cocconing you. Chan giggles again and pats your back, his chin digging into your shoulder, his little silver hoop earring getting stuck in your hair, "anytime",he replies and you can tell he's about to pull away from you but something tugs at your insides and before he can even move you're clamping down his back, stretching yourself out of the passanger seat just so you can reach out even more to him and hug him even titghter, "not yet, please don't let go just yet", you murmur.
You're not entirely sure if it's just the adrenaline dying down or the fact that you had tried to power through all your fear and freezing bones and now yuur body just physically needed to be held but you hold on onto him for just a little longer. He goes quiet. He silently pushes back his seat away from the steering wheel and hoists your body up until you're sitting in his lap, your chest firmly pressed into his, his cheek pressed onto the side of your face as he rubs his hands up and down your back.
You smile to yourself at the feeling of being this close to him, this comforted, the warm hair hitting your back, the quiet stillness of this moment that feels slightly surreal. "You are safe now, you know that right? I've got you, nothing bad's gonna happen", Chan speaks softly and you nod, now finally letting go of him while still sitting in his lap, his hands resting tentatively on your hips until you place your own on top of his, silently reassuring him it's okay for him to keep them there: "not a single day goes by where I don't feel safe with you, Chris. You... You are my safe place". You smile at him. A very assured smile too.
You don't even know where all this confidence came out from but you feel calm. Unusually calm and confident and secure, as if you're wrapped up in a warm blanket that'll shield you from all harm. "Really? I'm your safe place?", the young, beautiful man looks at you incredulously, his lips twitching into the biggest grin, and you nod sincerely, "yeah. I figured it's high time I let you know. Though I do fear sometimes you're way too mature for your age and you probably feel like you carry enough of a burden on your shoulders and me adding more responsability on that really isn't ideal but - I mean - like... Yeah like-".
You feel your cheeks heat up and your tongue twisting on its self but you keep at it, you screw your eyes shut and purse your lips together, recollecting your thoughts more coherently before continuing,"what I meant to say is: I'm so grateful for you. You make me feel safe. And secure. Always. And I wish I had told you this sooner but more times than not I think you're already so preoccupied with being this awesome leader and role model and just overall wholesome guy that-that you don't need someone else to take care of and add to the pile of things and people that have put you in this spot. I wish you could be your age and act your age freely, enjoying being young and successful and not just having to always be a fort for everyone".
You catch yourself panting a little from your whole speech and when you finally open your eyes again you find Chan smiling warmly, gazing at you with the gentlest look in his eyes, looking at you as if he's mentally hugging you like he always does with anyone and you just never noticed he did with you too.
He sighs contently and wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing your knuckles up to his chin, stopping just short of his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you, "thank you, y/n. I'm not-I'm not great with taking compliments but...you... I really appreciate every single thing you just mentioned. More than you could ever know. But please don't worry about me, I chose this, I enjoy it. You're never going to be a burden, never going to add to any pile",he pauses, taking a slightly deeper breath before continuing, "you're actually that one thing that makes my heart feel very light, very airy".
You let your fingers slip out of his gentle grip and cup his face, your body moving faster than your mind, your actions preceding your own thoughts as you lean closer and kiss him in the spur and of the moment. His hands immediately flying to your hips, pulling your body closer to his as he enthusiastically kisses you back. And God does it feel good. Does it feel right. Just so right. Unexpectedly but so inevitably right.
"Sorry,mmh I'm sorry", Chan mumbles, his lips still attached to yours as he tries to contain his giggles, "what are you sorry for?", you ask, breathless, and he circles your waist with his arms, resting his forehead against yours, "I should've asked. I definitely should have asked if it was okay to kiss you".
You burst into the happiest giggles and tilt your head back, "Christopher I kissed you. I should have asked. If anyone should be sorry it's me", you admit sincerely but he shakes his head, "I kissed you back. Straight away", "yeah! please do it more", you reply boldly which makes him giggle and giggle and squeak out of pure joy, "does this mean I can ask you out sometimes? And have more kisses?", he teases and you play with the collar of his shirt, pulling at it so he has to speak one inch away from your face, less than an inch away from your lips, "anytime. Any day of the week. Any time of the day or the night", you reply eagerly and this time around he cups your face and pulls you to him, kissing you so sweetly yet so passionately you momentarily forget you're both still in his car, all lights on, alone in the dead of the night until you feel something tapping impatiently on the driver side window: "uhm sorry to interrupt .... This is Ted. Emergency tow truck service, did you guys call?".
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dreadsuitsamus · 2 years
Note
Hi! Can I requests headcanons for Broly with a shy reader who can't handle loud noises?
author's note: oh i love me a soft man
pairing: broly x reader
warnings: just some fluff and tbh it came out as a bit of an au setting this time
Broly x Shy!Reader Headcanons
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Broly's a quiet man by nature, so he's hardly ever actually set off your alarm bells himself
He's not shy as much as he is introverted, so when you meet new people or need to set up some sort of appointment or otherwise make a phone call, he does it for you without a complaint
He makes it a point to plan any dates before happy hours or when people start to crowd. As a result, he often takes you out to breakfast at a nice bistro within walking distance
He orders for you, not only because you're shy and find it difficult to speak to the waiter, but also because it's the gentlemanly thing to do
gokuandvegetadon'treallygetit
Whenever you have gone out to crowded restaurants with your extended Saiyan family, Broly holds your hand under the table when the kids and adults alike start getting rowdy
He'll gently rub his thumb over your hand and murmur softly to you if you'd like anything from his plate
He knows you love your family, so you stick it out at every gathering even though they stress you out, so he does his best to comfort you so you can make the most of your limited time with everyone
You usually end up holding Bulla, the darling girl, and having a little conversation between the two of you
Broly thinks it's adorable how you interpret her babbling as if she's speaking real words
Bulla also gets startled by loud noises, so when he can sense the two of you getting anxious from how loud Goku or Bulma are getting, he'll clear his throat and quickly remind everyone that they're in public and should be respectful of the other people dining
They shamefully quiet themselves, and you always smile and thank your partner softly, and he kisses your temple in return
Whenever you and Broly have to go anywhere you're unfamiliar with, you tend to hide your body behind his much larger one
Of course, Broly doesn't like not being able to see you in at least his peripheral, so he'll take your hand and guide you to his side, his arm around you comfortably
Usually it'll help you feel better and you're able to interact with your surroundings better
He rubs your side a lot, helping you calm your nervous heart
Sometimes it's Broly that gets overwhelmed, however, and so you step up for him like he does for you
If the supermarket has long lines and too many people, he starts getting antsy. He's always worried something will happen, like a fight breaking out or a child being lost in the midst of people
Not to mention the loud chatter of the other shoppers, especially the ones raising hell at the poor cashiers, starts to make him feel panicky
It doesn't feel great to you either, but someone's gotta check out the groceries. And since you usually get at least two shopping carts worth, you don't tend to use the self-checkout
You put your hand on his chest and slip the car keys to him, encouraging him to wait for you outside with the car so you don't have to lug the groceries so far out
He'll ask if you're sure, and after you give him confirmation he'll drop a gentle kiss on your head and politely rush out of the store
One of your dreams is to see your favorite artist live, but you've always been afraid to go to a concert
It's with Broly that you finally get to experience what a concert is like. It's amazing! But after the opener has finished their set and the stage is prepared for the headliner, people start crowding around harshly in an attempt to be closer
You start fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, already on edge from how loud everything is. The strangers touching you inadvertently and how hard it's becoming to breathe has you about to spill into a panic
Broly anticipated something like this could happen, so when he kneels down and gestures for you to climb onto his shoulders, you're surprised and relieved he'd been this thoughtful
He promised you a good time, after all, so he obviously prepared to take as many precautions as possible
You smile when you're up in the air, thankful now more than ever that your boyfriend is so tall
And just as he promised, you had the best night of your life as you cheered and sang along to each song, safely atop Broly's shoulders
You and Broly seldom have reasons to argue, so it normally only happens once a year, if that
He's taken classes for his anger management, and has gotten very good at controlling his temper
He never yells at you, but there was a regrettable time when he'd gotten unbelievably angry at a contractor you had hired to install a pool in the backyard
You wanted the pool specifically so you could invite the family over for pool parties and barbecues, so you could see them more often but go decompress in your bedroom if it got to be a little much to handle at times
And lord help anyone that made it difficult for you to have what you wanted
The man was awful, lying left and right and making a mess of your beautiful yard. At the rate he was going, the pool wouldn't be done until after the summer, and you'd first contracted him in early spring!
And you would've accepted his slow work if he'd had the decency to at least make it look good
Broly had been growing tired of it for months, but it wasn't until the man made you cry with his estimate of not only being completed in the winter months, but also demanding more money for the project than was agreed upon
Your tears were enough for him to see red and he launched into a heavy tirade against the man, letting him know just how pissed off he was and by the time he was done, the man was quite literally shaking
When he finally settled down and that damned contractor was gone, Broly realized what he'd done and cursed at himself for scaring you
You had rushed up to the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed, curled up and covering your ears, more tears on your face now
Broly kneels before you and ducks his head, ashamed that he's done this to you. He'd yelled at that man for making you cry but he wasn't much better
"I'm so sorry." He whispers. He doesn't try to touch you, and stays before you for as long as it takes for you to calm down
You eventually sniffle and tangle your fingers in his hair. "I forgive you."
That's when Broly launches up and engulfs you in a tight, impossibly warm hug
You close your eyes and hold him as tightly as you can, eventually falling asleep beneath him
He doesn't let go all night
thepoolgotdonerightontimeatleast
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erikahenningsen · 4 months
Note
Rejanis. Dealer’s choice. ;)
32. A kiss while someone watches
Regina barely slept last night. Actually, she hasn't slept well for at least a week. Her body feels sluggish while her brain moves fast, thoughts whipping by like she's in a car with a steering wheel that doesn't work.
She picks at her thumbnail while her friends gather into a circle, and Kyle places the bottle in the center—an empty wine bottle Regina had pulled out from the recycling bin in the garage.
Regina tries to think of a way out of this game but comes up empty; she's positive that if she protests, everyone will somehow, suddenly know.
They'll know that Regina's been spending her nights staring at her ceiling, trying and failing to think about anything or anyone but Janis. That she runs her phone battery down scrolling through Janis's personal and art Instagram accounts and her camera roll, full of photos of them together or just random photos of Janis, for hours. That last night, Regina hesitantly typed am I gay? into Google.
As Kyle and Karen make juvenile jokes about kissing, Regina gets the creeping, panicky feeling she did when she got on the biggest roller coaster at Six Flags last summer—like she's being strapped into an experience she doesn't want to have and handing the controls to her life over to someone else.
Kyle's big, boyish hand lands on her knee, and Regina jumps.
"You good, babe?" he asks, and Regina fights not to cringe like she does every time he calls her that.
"Good, all good," Regina says, hoping she sounds cool and casual. Not that she expects Kyle to pick up on any nuance in her tone.
They've kissed a few times, and it hasn't been particularly enjoyable. Kyle's lips are rough, and he presses in too hard, is too eager to use tongue. Every time, it leaves Regina with the unsettling thought that there is something deeply wrong with her.
"I'll go first!" Karen says enthusiastically, reaching forward and giving the bottle a spin.
Regina sits back on her hands, watching as the bottle slowly spins to a stop, pointing right at Kyle. All the eyes in the circle turn to her, and belatedly, Regina realizes she's supposed to give a shit.
"Watch yourself," Regina says, pointing at Karen. Everyone laughs, but there's a distinct tense energy in the room—probably because Regina knows for a fact half the people here have never kissed anyone.
Karen shuffles over to Kyle, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in. Karen, at least, has kissed a few people already, so she's playing for fun, not to increase the number of fingers she can put down during a game of Never Have I Ever.
The kiss is short and relatively chaste, because Regina knows Karen would never actually kiss her boyfriend, and certainly not in front of witnesses. But Regina knows she's supposed to be jealous, possessive, so when they part, Regina slides her hand into his and gives him a look.
"Sorry, babe," Kyle says sheepishly as Karen scoots back to her spot.
Regina presses a brief kiss to his lips and reaches for the bottle, saying, "I'm not watching you kiss someone else again so soon." In truth, she just wants to get this fucking over with.
Regina stares, almost hypnotized, as the bottle spins around and around. She's so focused on the movement that it takes her a moment to realize that it's stopped.
On Janis.
For a minute, Regina has no idea what to do. Of course she wants to kiss Janis. She thinks constantly about kissing Janis. She has dreams about kissing Janis. But she's spent every night for the last month praying to anyone who would listen that she could stop wanting. Stop wishing.
Regina realizes that she's been frozen too long, and Janis is starting to shift uncomfortably. The only way out is through, she figures. So she crawls over, sets her hands on Janis's shoulders, and leans in before she has time to think about it too much.
It is absolutely nothing like kissing Kyle. Janis's lips are so soft, and she tastes like the Twizzlers she had been eating. She inhales just a little when Regina makes contact, so that Regina can feel it, and it takes all of her willpower not to shiver.
This, Regina thinks absently, is what it's supposed to feel like.
Regina's whole skin is buzzing like she's electrified, and she tilts her head a little so they fit together more seamlessly. It's like everything suddenly falls into place, and she understands what she's been missing this whole time when her friends talk about their crushes.
Janis tenses beneath her, and Regina pulls back abruptly, realizing with a start that she's taken way too long. There are a few giggles behind her, and she feels her face burn hot. Janis is looking at her, wide-eyed, an expression Regina has never seen before.
Regina hears a whisper behind her, maybe Gretchen to Karen, and she has to do damage control. Now.
Regina slides back to her spot in the circle, a coy smile forced onto her lips.
"I knew she'd let me do that," she says, like she's saying it only to Kyle but she makes sure it's loud enough for everyone to hear. "She's like, obsessed with me." She smirks and flips her hair over her shoulder and she feels sick, like she might throw up all over Gretchen's Steve Madden boots.
More giggles and whispers, but this time they're looking at Janis, and Regina feels a sense of relief knowing that it won't be her they're talking about at school on Monday.
Regina chances a glance at Janis, who is looking at Regina like she's never seen her before. Regina looks away, desperately trying to think of a way to let Janis know how much she didn't want to do that without toppling her carefully crafted house of cards.
Maybe it would be easier if Janis hated her, actually. Sure, it'd hurt, but maybe it would stop these thoughts. These feelings. It's you or me, Regina tries to silently tell her.
And Regina will always pick herself.
42 notes · View notes
theclairvoyage · 5 months
Text
Centrifugation: Chapter 10
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Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.
Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff
WC: 4.2k
Divider by @plum98 <3
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Tuesday, October 26th | 1505
Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.
“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”
Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.
You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.
Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.
-Ker
Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.
Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.
“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.
Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.
You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.
Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.
You: Night, Joel. 🥰
Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.
Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos
Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.
The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.
The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.
Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.
When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?
His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.
Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.
A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.
Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.
Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.
How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?
No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.
Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.
Wednesday, October 27th | 0712
Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.
Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.
Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.
15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.
Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.
Who took the pictures?
You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.
Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.
You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?
They don’t miss a beat replying.
(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.
A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.
You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.
You: Fucking clown 🤡
The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.
As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.
You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.
But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.
“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.
“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.
He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.
“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.
“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.
“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.
“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.
“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.
“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.
“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.
“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.
“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.
“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.
“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.
You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.
Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.
A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.
What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.
“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.
“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.
“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.
“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.
“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.
Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.
“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.
“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.
“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.
“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.
“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.
“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”
Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”
“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
Wednesday, October 27th | 1239
After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.
I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.
Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.
One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.
But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.
Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?
You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.
Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.
Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.
Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.
You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.
Shit.
It’s Joel.
He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.
And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.
He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.
“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.
Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.
He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.
“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.
“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.
“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.
“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.
“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.
“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.
“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.
“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.
Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.
The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.
“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”
You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.
“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.
“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”
“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.
“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.
“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.
“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.
“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.
“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.
Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.
“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.
“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.
“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.
“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.
This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.
“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.
“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.
“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”
“Sure does.”
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Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3
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ariicandy · 1 year
Text
╭・Being Miles’ Younger Sibling !! PT.2
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Pt 2 cause I still got some more in mind 😜😜 gonna do e-42 miles soon but as usual,
Grammar mistakes are here I apologize !!
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︎ㅤ︎ㅤ❥︎ ┈ whenever you guys are calling late at night and he is on patrol, the call will either randomly end because he ran into a building/poll or u hear him run into the poll/building with an “ow”. Best assure he WILL need the best phone case && screen protector.
ㅤ❥︎ ┈ he’s probably those siblings that randomly go to your room and dont say anything. It might be annoying but to him, it just makes him glad you’re okay and no one/nothing is going to hurt you when he’s around.
ㅤ❥︎ ┈ nicknames he call you are probably like bro, a shorten version of your name(example bri for brianna, Nicky for Nicolas or Danny etc etc.) and sometimes just do a “HEY” depending on context like he’s gonna show you something he thinks is cool or interesting.
❥︎ ┈ if you share a talent you and miles are both good at like a subject in school, best believe you guys will share test scores and brag who got the highest. A small competition of whoever gets the highest scores gets to go get their favorite snack,food, or dessert while the other has to pay for it. If you both got the same scores then no one gets a treat! But miles being the big sweet brother he is, buys you something to celebrate!!
ㅤ❥︎ ┈ If miles had to save you when he was fighting, he was panicking. He ran over to you after knocking the villain checking if you are okay or have any injuries. Reassure him you’re okay and he’ll finally calm down that nothing hurts or have any bruises on you. Just know he’ll talk about it a LOT.
❥︎ ┈ alternate version of miles saving you but you got Injured(badly or not really your choice!) miles would be running to the hospital and be the first person to show up next to you, even before your parents. They try to calm miles down while he is scared and anxious waiting for your surgery to be done and well(if you chose very bad injury)
or they still try to calm him down a bit in the room with you even tho it wasn’t too serious serious.(not very bad choice)
Either one, miles would still be terrified and panicky because he was suppose to keep you safe as your older brother and as spiderman to his advantage. His heart can finally rest knowing you can leave, best assure he’ll give you the biggest hug and never want to let go.
Mama Morales: “Miles that’s enough let [name] have some space and air.”
Miles: “noo one more minute :((“
ㅤ❥︎ ┈ He’ll probably use the excuse of saving you that time JUST SO you don’t go out alone. He definitely got a bit more anxiety and paranoid whenever you come just a little late home. you- “okay ima head out for a bit!” miles - “Let me go with you [n/n]!” you- “Miles I’ll be fine-“ Miles- “But remember last time I wasn’t with you :((“ You end up having miles next to the whole time you went out
ㅤ❥︎ ┈ If the spot killing you because of “what he did to him” and spot destroying his life being his canon event, miles would never get over it and never forgive himself. I would rather disturb this canon event thing just to save your life even if it means he’ll lose his dad or his mom. He can’t lose Someone who was there for him day 1 or even later on he didn’t tell you day 1, he barley has anyone to talk to about this and his own sibling having to be that sacrifice?? He would rather let this dimension collapse with him or break every possible canon event that evolves around you dying than actually really happening. ㅤ❥︎ ┈ He has had nightmares about you or your parents(Mr. & Mrs. Morales) dying from him failing to save any of you by not trying to do both, saving everyone and saving one person close to you. ( see what I did there😜) whenever he has these nightmares he will go check up any of you by opening the door quietly and slowly to not make noise that’ll wake you up. It calms him down seeing you just peacefully sleeping undisturb by the world.
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