#i’m okay now but ​my lower back hurts really bad right now so that’s kind of annoying

[mabelsguidetolife]

so I’ve been having a problem with my nose and it turns out MENSTRUATION can cause NOSEBLEEDS?!?!? that pisses me off….. whadda hell

[gggukniverse]

guys my age | myg (m)

title: guys my age

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

genre: m , smut , mom's boyfriend au , age gap

summary: you and your mom have been living in her new boyfriend's house for a couple of weeks. it's a little hard adapting to living there but on a weekend your mom is out of town and you've invited a guy to the house for a quick and disappointing hookup, yoongi lets you know he's more than willing to help you out.

warnings: [just for the teaser] brief sexual encounter with another guy, bad sex, age gap, kind of dubious consent, yoongi kiiiiiiind of manipulates reader

wordcount: 1.5k (just the teaser)

drop date: still not sure !!! sorry for making you wait but i will be working on it !!!!

note: hey :) this is my next fic !!! i'm super excited for this one. i'm still working on basic needs part 3 though, just be patient

-

-

-

you still get lost in this house, you realize you do when you stop by the middle of one of the hallways in complete confusion because you don’t even know where the office is.

it’s normal to need time to adapt to a new place, you already knew that when you moved with your mom into her new boyfriend, but two weeks have passed since you moved to this house and you’ve lost even the way back to your room now.

it’s only when you hear the noise of a keyboard that you turn to the end of the hallway to the right and see light coming from a room with the door just a little open. that’s the office.

you walk down the hallway hesitantly and knock two times on the door, only opening it all the way when you hear that deep voice saying ‘come in’.

“hi,” you say quietly as you stand by the door. yoongi is working but he takes a break from all of the papers on his desk and his computer to look up at you and take his glasses off. “i- i’m sorry, am i bothering?”

“no, don’t worry,” he seems shakes his head and smiles sweetly at you. “is everything okay?”

“yeah, everything is okay... i just wanted to ask you something.” you bite your lower lip, already sensing the negative response coming.

“sure, what is it?” yoongi leans back on his chair and crosses his arms.

“my mom never lets me bring anyone home, so now that she’s not here for the weekend... i was wondering if you would let me bring someone in, since this is your house.” you let it out as fast as you can, like ripping off a bandage.

“you wanna bring someone over,” yoongi nods slowly to himself as if he’s processing what you just told him so you hum in affirmation. “a friend?” he tilts his head to the side a little, as if he’s testing you.

“uh, well...” you feel your cheeks burn and he seems to get it right away.

“your mom warned me as soon as she left that you would try to sneak someone in.” he says and that’s when you know you’re done.

“okay.” you say quietly, your shoulders dropping in disappointment.

but yoongi speaks again, “he can come over.”

you look up again with wide eyes and see that he has a smile on his face. “really?” you ask in disbelief. you really expected him to say no.

“sure, but don’t cause any trouble.” he warns and you nod immediately.

“thank you, yoongi oppa.” you bow before turning around again and walking out of the office.

it turns out not being that good of an idea to bring the boy you’ve been talking to for a few days over to this house.

“fuck yeah...” the boy hovering over you groans as he keeps fucking you at a way too rough pace for your liking, not hurting you but straight up not making you feel good. “does that feel good baby?” he mutters against your ear and you almost want to laugh but you just fake a moan before saying, “yeah.”

he obviously comes on your stomach and just starts getting dressed again, like sex is over as soon as he comes. he doesn’t even stay, just leaves you there alone feeling completely dirty and empty. and it’s not the first time you have a sex experience as bad as this one, in fact, all of your sexual encounters with guys always end like this.

you only get up from the bed when you decide that you have to at least clean his now drying cum from your stomach. you clean it with some wipes but you still feel dirty, so after putting on an old big shirt and some sweatshorts you walk out of your room and make your way to the closest bathroom with the intention of taking a quick shower.

but just as you turn to the next hallway you stomp against someone’s chest.

“woah, careful.” yoongi’s voice makes you step back and look up at him.

“sorry...” you mumble and quickly look down again in embarrassment because you probably still look a little fucked out.

“did your friend leave already?” yoongi asks, not showing any interest in wanting to walk away so you sigh and look up again, nodding in response. “are you okay?”

your heart starts racing with how he’s looking at you, like he’s analyzing every detail on your expression.

“yeah, yeah. i’m okay.” you nod anxiously and almost flinch when he reaches out to you with his hands, putting the back of it against your forehead.

“do you have a fever?” yoongi asks with a little frown, like he’s actually worried, but you catch the way his lips curl into a little smirk as soon as you’re about to panic.

he’s teasing you. of course he knew what you’ve been doing.

“please don’t tell my mom.” you say as he drops his hand from your forehead. he smiles.

“brat can’t go a day without having a cock inside,” he chuckles and your mouth opens for you to say something but you’re left completely speehless because never in a million years you would’ve expected him to speak like that to you. “don’t think i don’t notice when you sneak boys inside my house. you were nice for asking this time, though. didn’t expect you to.”

“i...” words don’t even leave your mouth, so shocked that he knows everything.

“was it worth it at least?” he lifts one of his eyebrows and tilts his head in a way that has your body feeling hot for some reason. “was he good to you?” he asks again.

“no.” you speak so quietly it’s barely a whisper.

“did you cum?”

“no,” you shake your head, not being able to tear your eyes away from him as if you’re under a spell. “i... never do. they always finish and leave.” you mutter with so much embarrasment that you wanna die, but the words come out much more easily than you would’ve expected.

“mh... i know.” the tone in his voice is so low.

you don’t even notice he’s walking closer to you until you can almost feel his breath hitting your face. after taking two steps back to get away from him, you hit the wall. he takes the last couple of steps to you until he has you cornered between the wall and his body.

“now tell me why i shouldn’t tell your mom, huh?” yoongi hums.

you look down, too embarrassed to look into his eyes now. “please, don’t tell her.” you mutter and a gasp escapes your throat when you feel a finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him again.

“say please one more time.” his entire aura is so intimidating that you feel your whole body shaking. he’s never been so close to you.

“please...” you look up at him with big eyes, those use to work.

yoongi exhales through his nose and your proximity to him lets you notice the way his jaw clenches.

“i won’t tell her,” he says and you sigh in relief, throwing your head back against the wall. “i’ll keep your secret if you keep ours.” you flinch when you feel fingertips running up your bare thigh.

“ours?”

he doesn’t reply but you don’t have a chance to ask him again because his lips are on yours.

a moan escapes your mouth and he follows with a grunt as one of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you flat against his body. his other hand, the one he was touching your thigh with, goes up to your ass and squeezes it. you whine against his lips because his hand feels so big, so good.

your mind is so dizzy and your legs are starting to shake because it is a good fucking kiss and the way he’s holding you makes you feel amazing, but something inside your brain makes you snap back to reality. you’re kissing your mom’s boyfriend, a man who’s 22 years older than you.

you put your hands on his chest and push him back a little. “oppa...” you pant, trying to catch your breath, and look down to his chest to avoid his gaze.

“mh?” he brings the hand on your ass to your lower back, keeping you close to him.

“why did you do that?” you say and he only chuckles, so low.

“why did i do what?”

“kiss me... and- and touch me.” you explain with a shaky voice.

“mh?” yoongi hums again and leans down, stealing another kiss from your lips that makes you forget what you were talking about. “touch you?” he asks, so close to your lips.

he smiles when you try to chase his lips. “touch me.” you repeat, not even conscious of what you’re saying.

“want me to touch you?” yoongi’s hands go to your waist, holding you by your sides.

something inside you is yelling at you, begging you to go back to your room. but you nod at yoongi’s question, earning a smile from him that feels like a reward.

“come with me, sweetheart.” he’s suddenly taking a step back and offering you his hand to hold, waiting for you to make a decision.

you take it.

-

-

-

to be continued :)

[milkloafy]

YOUR SAVING GRACE — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which you run into some trouble and wriothesley saves you, getting himself hurt in the process. [modern au; suggestive content] ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.4k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: inspired by the wriothesley art where his face is a little bloodied and he’s smiling like that and hmmngfh i want to hold him so bad !! also the title is kind of a pun do u get it ha ha okay pls enjoy :>

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 

Wriothesley chucked, wincing as the corner of his mouth lifted upwards. “Fancy way of saying thank you.”

With a sigh, you dampened a washcloth with warm water from under the sink. You wrung out the excess before gently guiding it up to Wriothesley’s face and dabbing at the cut on his lip. You frowned. His split lower lip wasn’t even the worst of it—he had a bleeding gash on the right side of his temple.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, fingers brushing against the high points of his cheekbone. Such a beautiful face did not deserve to be marred in such a way; he had already been through enough growing up.

“Of course I had to,” he said, your face so close to his that you felt his hot breath fan your nose. “The alternative would have been to let them harm you.”

You discarded the dirty cloth and grabbed a fresh one from the drawer. As you wiped the blood off his forehead, your mind wandered to the memory of the past few hours. It wasn’t exactly a good one, to put it lightly. 

You had only recently moved back to your hometown in Fontaine after spending time abroad in Inazuma, but you quickly found that all the friends you once knew now had lives of their own. Except your childhood friend Wriothesley, of course. Still, you didn’t let that stop you from going out on your own and trying to meet new people, especially now that you were back in Fontaine to stay.

Perhaps, however, heading face first into the night scene wasn’t the way to go. 

You shivered at the memory. The moment you realized you didn’t feel safe being out dancing alone, you tried to make your way home, only to find out you were being followed by some men from the venue. Your only saving grace was that of Wriothesley, who happened to be on a late night tea run. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you said sincerely, though you knew that wasn’t enough to display your gratitude. Who knows what could have happened had he not intervened. “I just hate that you got hurt because of it.” 

Wriothesley laughed, patting your head affectionately—as if the two of you never drifted apart when you moved away. “I would do it again, even if the outcome was worse. Besides, did you see what I did to the other guys?” 

That earned a smile out of you. “There were three of them! And you still kicked all their asses.” 

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “Now, if you look at my injuries in comparison, it’s really nothing.” 

Though the mood was slightly lifted, you still hated to see Wriothesley in any pain. The least you could do was make sure his wound were thoroughly cleaned and wrapped. 

“You don’t have to go through this trouble,” said Wriothesley as you disinfected the cut on his temple and placed a bandage over it. “You must be tired from your long night. You should get some rest. I can always have Sigewinne help.”

You shook your head fervently, almost offended by his suggestion. “You’re in this mess  because of me and you think I could just leave you to get it taken care of elsewhere?” you huffed, squishing his non-injured cheek with your fingertips. “What kind of friend would I be then?”

“I’m not in this mess because of you—it’s because of those lowlives who take pleasure in trying to harass an innocent person,” he corrected sternly. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry you had to go through that yourself.”

Once you finished cleaning and patching him up, you became overwhelmingly aware of the fact that you were standing in between his legs as he sat on the bathroom counter. You were leaning against one of his thighs as support to steady your hand while you wiped his wounds, but now that you were finished, you straightened back up, swallowing harshly at your now dry throat. 

How focused must you have been to not notice the feeling of sculpted muscles through his pants? You were glad to know you had some priorities, at least. 

Feeling warm, you tried to step away. “Well, thank you again for…you know, beating those guys up for me! But if you’re okay now I guess that means it’s time for me to go.” 

“Leaving so soon?” Wriothesley half-heartedly locked his leg behind your back with a grin, preventing you from taking another step back. “Have you checked under my shirt yet? Perhaps I have some injuries there.”

“Wriothesley!” you yelped, feeling your face grow warm despite knowing he was only joking. “You said so yourself— You have Sigewinne for that!” 

He let out a chuckle, as he released you from his gentle hold. “So my dear friend will help with the wounds on my face, but nothing lower?” 

Your mouth dropped, incredulous, yet you felt yourself taking the bait. After all, if your handsome friend with a hot body were to dangle the offer of seeing them shirtless right front of your face, who were you to deny it?

“Fine, let me check for you,” you said hastily. 

Moving his tie aside, you grabbed at the buttons lining the front of his shirt. The black longsleeve was tight-fitted, and the moment you felt his abdomen, you knew there were muscles underneath his clothes. As your fingers began maneuvering around the round, little button, you felt Wriothesley begin to stir. 

“Y/N,” his voice was gruff, “I was only teasing.”

Your brows shot up in surprise at his tone. He sounded strained and his eyes darkened with every button you undid. Your pinky finger accidentally brushed against his exposed pectoral muscles as you slowly parted the top-half of his shirt. At the touch of his warm body, you jolted in shock. 

Clearing your throat, you attempted to appear unfazed. “Well, sometimes your actions have consequences.” 

“I must say, this is quite a positive consequence.” 

“You’re one of the lucky ones this time.”

Wriothesley laughed, shaking his head. All of a sudden, he grasped your hand that was trailing down his shirt, stopping you from moving. You held your breath.

“Careful not to go any lower,” he warned, the slightest hint of a growl in his voice. 

“And if I do?”

“If you want our friendship to stay as is, then I suggest you don’t.” He stared into your eyes, his gray ones appearing almost black. “Before this leads to something you might regret.”

“I wouldn’t regret if this lead to anything,” you admitted, voice quiet. Gone was the playful teasing, traded for something much more sincere. “Would you?”

“Of course not.”

You raised a brow and broke your hand free from his gentle grasp, placing your palm against the heat of his bare skin. Your fingertips danced against the curve of his chest as you pushed the shirt back, just to check if he had any injuries there, of course. 

Wriothesley shook his head and groaned, running a hand through his hair as he shut his eyes. “You’re making this difficult, darling.” 

You giggled, letting your hand fall to your side and giving him a cheeky smile. “Fine, I’ll stop for now. You don’t have any injuries there anyway. I checked for you.” 

He had a conflicted look on his face—as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be relieved or disappointed. 

You grinned at his reaction. “Perhaps you want me to look again?”

Wriothesley choked out a noise of both surprise and amusement before collecting himself. “I believe your initial examination was thorough enough, but after you have a good night’s rest, then we can revisit this topic.” 

Though you were disappointed the two of you didn’t take it further yourself, you knew he was probably right. You did feel rather tired after the draining night you had. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” you conceded, offering him a hand as he got off the countertop. Even standing, he was significantly taller than you. You pursed your lips, if only you weren’t so exhausted, then maybe… You shook your head, snapping out of your thoughts. “Then, once I’m fully rested, I can properly thank you for your help today.”

Wriothesley smiled, understanding the not-so subtle implications of your words and welcoming it with open arms. 

“Great,” he said after a moment’s thought. “I look forward to it.”

[littlespoonevan]

i'll keep it all to myself

7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)

-

“Hey, killer.”

Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“

“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”

Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.

Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”

“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.

“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.

Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.

“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“

“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”

Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.

Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’

But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.

“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”

“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”

Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”

“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.

They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.

He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.

“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”

“Oh, so you guys talked?”

Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.

“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”

Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”

The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

OKAY hear me out

Soft!Jason with a very touchy S/O, like we all know Jay alr has SO much trauma and he needs to constantly be touching them, making sure they're still with him, and the S/O, they're more than happy about this (LOVE LANG IS PHYSICAL CONTACT), constantly holding hands, little shoulder bumps, snuggling, forehead touches (!!!), bascially giving a Nick/Charlie vibe here but STILL

lol sorry about the long rant this thots just stuck in my head

(also can i be 🐺anon?)

Yes you may be 🐺 anon. :)

Jason wouldn’t consider himself to be a touchy person or someone who’s primary way of showing appreciation and love through physical touch like you. And yet after everything he’s been through and done, Jason finds himself extending out a hand and wordlessly intertwining your fingers together, letting out a deep sigh of relief as everything became okay again. All just because he was holding onto you.

You made everything okay for Jason.

So you knew when it was really bad whenever Jason was practically clinging onto you with no intentions of letting go. His grip was like a vice that would tighten at any signs of movement as he thought you were trying to pull away, when in actuality you were just trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, and his breathing was uneven and ragged like he had just ran a marathon without any breaks. He’d go even further by burying his face deep into your chest just so he could feel that you were alive and still with him.

It hurt you to see him like this, it truly did, and so you’d respond to his need for touch in kind by running your hand up and down his back and resting your forehead against his head, pressing kisses into it every now and then whenever you heard the sound of pitiful, soft whimpering coming from the back of his throat as you cooed softly at him gentle reminders that you weren’t going anywhere without him.

‘I’m here. I’m right here Jason, you can feel me breathing can’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ He murmurs and you press a kiss against head.

‘Then that should be more than enough proof to know that I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever and I’ll prove it everyday if I have to.’ You tell him and you truly meant what you said as the following days you would do a plethora of things to set Jason’s mind at ease and quite any and every inner demon he had that tried to make him think otherwise.

In the mornings you would snuggle yourself further into Jason. Making sure that your forehead was pressed against his, rubbing your noses together and kissing his eyelids until they flutter open to reveal his beautiful eyes, making sure that you were the first thing Jason saw and welcoming him into the morning with a soft smile and a series of kisses scattered to his cheeks, jaw and lips.

‘Good morning handsome.’ You greeted him.

‘It’s always a good morning when you’re the first thing I see angel.’ He greeted you back in kind, voice low and raspy as his hands on your lower back kept you within close proximity.

‘It looks like someone’s been reading too much Jane Austen as of late to be this romantic first thing in the morning.’ You teased, smiling more at his words as he shrugs. ‘Guilty as charged but I don’t need Jane Austen to be romantic when it comes naturally whenever I’m with you.’ You smother him in more kisses after that because you were unable to come up with anything that could compare that to.

In the evening when you and Jason were starting to settle down after an eventful day, you could often be found sat next to him on the couch as he read his book while holding onto your thigh with his free hand, his thumb would trace patterns into your skin; Whereas you would go through your phone and occasionally pressing you knee against his. It was a relaxing moment the two of you often found yourselves in that it might as well have become somewhat of a tradition; sitting in comfortable silence with one another doing your own things in tandem.

However Jason -whenever he felt you weren’t close enough to his liking- would press his shoulder against yours and lean in to press a kiss to your temple before going back to reading his book. ‘I feel like I’m rubbing off on you with how much more touchy you’ve been lately.’ You told him after a while and Jason bookmarks his place in the story and puts the book down on the table infront of you before looking over at you.

‘Does it bother you when I do that?’ He asks, feeling a little vulnerable.

‘No.’ You said without hesitation and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers together and kissing each and every one of his knuckles before resting your conjoined hands on your lap. ‘I love that you feel comfortable enough to reach out to me for physical comfort. It means a lot and I’d never want to undermine that.’ You continued and you could see Jason visibly relax as a smile graced his lips.

‘You almost scared me half to death there sweetheart.’ He says in relief. ‘And the reason why I reach out for you for comfort is because you bring me comfort and bring my mind some semblance of peace.’ He admits and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as a silent way to echo his sentiment that he too brought you comfort. Jason smiled and brought your hand to his lips, mimicking you by pressing kisses to each and every one of your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you; It was a simple enough action to make anyone flustered at the intensity of his seemingly never ending devotion.

‘I love you Jaybirdie and thank you for choosing me to be your safe place.’ You said softly.

‘I love you too sweetheart and thank you for being my safe place.’ Jason replied, pulling you in by your joined hands, caging you against his warm chest, as he shifted his position to lay down on the couch where you both took a well deserved nap.

No nightmares or night terrors greeted Jason that night as he help you in his arms, dreaming of nothing but you and only you and your smile. His safe place.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Sorry for earlier.

Pls can you write about Logan ?

𝐚𝐛𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫. || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭

⋆ a/n: it's okay!! i'm going to be honest and say that near the end, i start to get a little silly, so it's safe to say i giggled at some of my headcanons while writing them. i hope you guys enjoy them too!!

masterlist | AO3 | nsfw ver.

A is for Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

Logan is very affectionate but behind closed doors, he does do subtle affection in front of others though. It’s nothing too crazy, just a large warm hand hovering over your lower back, or a sweet kiss to your forehead or temple if the time calls for it.

B is for Best Friend:

Unsurprisingly, Logan is your closest friend and confidant along with being your boyfriend! Even though he’ll gripe and groan when you drag him around to do things, or just stare at you in amusement when you tell him the latest drama, when shit hits the fan; he’s there holding you, whispering comforting reassurances in your ear.

C is for Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle):

Yeah, yeah, Logan’s weird about PDA, but this man is a major cuddler. He holds you, the warmth of your plush body against his skin helps to ground him. Barely ever or never the little spoon; it isn’t a masculinity thing, it’s more about putting himself between you and any potential dangers.

D is for Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):

For right now, when it comes to settling down, I’m gonna say no. He’s still way too fearful because of the fact that he has lost so much. Logan’s domestic in his own right though, and it’s shown by the small things he does for you. He’ll iron a shirt you need for an interview, swap out body care products when they get low, do the laundry, take out the trash.

Basically anything he can do to make your life easier, he will.

E is for Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

It’ll always be hard.

Breaking up or getting broken up by Logan is always a somber affair if it’s done right. Logan’s hot-headed, but he would never personally try and hurt the people he cares about, so breaking up with you is hard, but he doesn’t want to risk hurting you in the long run by leading you on.

If it’s you breaking up with him, he goes a bit stoned faced, and honestly it’s quite scary, all the progress you have made with trust and vulnerability is completely broken. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get over it. 

F is for Fiance(e)(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

Marriage is an overwhelming affair, at least to Logan.

He’s been to a few weddings, and he knows how these things tend to go. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you, it’s just… a lot. He’s more than willing to commit to you, he isn’t insatiable, just putting a ring on your finger isn’t a deal breaker for him. It’s all about safety with him, so marriage isn’t happening for a long time. But he’s open to the idea for the near future.

G is for Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

Logan is so gentle with you, it’s kind of sad. He knows you’re not breakable, but he’s seen – and been responsible – for so much mass destruction. He’s rough around the edges and a little broken inside, but he’s willing to mend himself because he wants to love you.

He’s gentle in the way he holds you, the way he brushes his against your cheek.

H is for Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):

Logan is neutral when it comes to hugs; he’s okay with receiving them, but only from people that he trusts, or when he can tell someone really wants one. He’s surprisingly giving with his affections, but only with the right people.

I is for I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?):

Phew (cue loud whistle sigh), the L-word. Logan has loved, and whenever he has loved, he’s loved hard. He’s had bad luck when it comes to luck, so he takes a lot longer to say the big word back. It’s highly probable that you were the one that had told him you loved him first.

J is for Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

I don’t really think Logan gets jealous all that often simply because he is so secure within himself and your relationship, that if he sees someone else with you, his mind doesn’t immediately raise red flags. He only intervenes when he can tell you’re uncomfortable or if he simply doesn’t like the way they’re looking at you.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

Logan’s kisses are passionate. Sometimes communication is hard, there’s so much he can express by simply pressing his lips against yours. He loves to share light-hearted, soft pecks with you. He’s an everywhere kisser when he has the time, but he’s always placing kisses on your temple or forehead. 

Your affections often fluster Logan, so whenever you kiss him on his favorite spots – like his jaw or lips – he flushes red and grumbles in faux complaints.

L is for Little Ones (How are they around children?):

We all know that Logan is literally a lost kid magnet, this man wears the found-family au like a badge of honor. He doesn’t baby them, doesn’t pamper them from the harshness of the world, but he welcomes them softly, and he helps them. He wants his children to be independent and to be able to take care of themselves.

M is for Morning (How are mornings spent with them):

I literally have a headcanon about this already, but mornings with Logan are so sickeningly soft. Many mornings, you aren’t able to even escape the bed because he holds you down and cuddles into you. If you manage to pry yourself away from him, he hangs off of you as you make breakfast, and even as you eat. He’s a menace. Plain and simple.

N is for Night (How are nights spent with them?):

Yet another headcanon I’ve already written, but many nights spent with Logan are so playful. It’s just something about it being night time and when you’re supposed to be going to bed that makes him so energetic. He’s cracking jokes, tackling you onto the bed to shower you in his ticklish affection. You basically have to wrestle him with cuddles in order to get him to calm down.

O is for Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):

Logan and vulnerability don’t mix, but I feel like being able to even get him to become your boyfriend is a huge step into getting him to open up to you. He drops vague explanations of his past here and there, but ultimately, one night a dam opens, and you know everything.

P is for Patience (How easily angered are they?):

Contrary to popular belief, Logan has patience for the right people. He’s very biased, if you were to pull something he would get angry at a stranger at, he’s willing to work it out. 

Q is for Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

Logan is the most observant and perspective motherfucker ever, and I stand by that. When you open up to him, he’ll file away every one of your likes and dislikes into a little folder in his brain for further use. Many of them don’t get used of course, because affection is hard for him to express, but he just knows you.

R is for Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):

A quiet night shared between the two of you, twisted up in the sheets together when the insomnia gets bad. You’re both facing each other, laying on your sides and whispering a conversation, as if you’re afraid your voices will pierce the air.

S is for Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

So protective. Like, it’s actually insane. Logan would protect you in any way he can, even if that means he has to kill someone. Of course he doesn’t need to be physically protected, but a lot of people have taken shots at his character, so if you’re able to defend him that way, it’d warm him up.

T is for Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):

Listen, Logan tries when it comes to dates/anniversaries – bless his heart. He’s not a total stick in the mud when it comes to romance, because in my eyes, he’s a little bit of a secret hopeless romantic. Effort comes easy to Logan when it comes to the small things like I mentioned in D (Domestic). He likes making your life easier, so everyday tasks are literally no sweat off his back. 

U is for Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):

Logan has his moments where he gets extremely emotionally constipated. Like, it doesn’t matter with how reassuring you are, sometimes, his walls go back up around him, like an impenetrable force and you can’t reach him. 

V is for Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

Listen, I love Logan, but this man does not care about his appearance all that much. Sure, he’ll trim his beard when needed, and even get his haircut, but he prefers to be casual, so he doesn’t cause a big commotion about his appearance. He’s not very vain.

W is for Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

I feel like if you’ve been around him for a long time, before or after you guys had started dating, if anything were to happen to you, there’d be a you shaped hole inside his heart. 

X is for Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):

Okay, Logan likes to act like he’s above the drama, but whenever you come home cussing and ranting about your boss or your co-workers, he is sat. Yes he wants to hear about your married co-workers who are sleeping together. Yes, he wants to hear about how your boss had a stain on his shirt the whole day. He’s secretly messy and you love it.

Y is for Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?):

Logan fucking despises egotistical people; like how is your head so big? It genuinely baffles him. Sometimes really outgoing people – cough cough Wade cough cough.

Z is for Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?):

Sorry to shatter Logan’s charming bubble, but he snores. Really loud. He snores like an old man but absolutely refuses to get a sleep apnea machine. The fight he put up about it was laughable.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @moonysreid

[onyourhyuck]

Growing Pains. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Baby is there anything i can do to help?”

— Summary: In the middle of the night you wake up your boyfriend telling him you are having bad period cramps and tries his best to help you feel better.

— Genre: Romance. Wholesome relationship between you and Hyuck. Boyfriend!hyuck. Smutty so no minors interact. Fingering going on in the fic ( f receiving) but everything else is very soft and wholesome.

— Notes: no tags.

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The Growing Pains in your body rumbles through your sleep and mind long enough to wake you up in this awful stunning moment where you groan lightly holding your body on the side of the bed where you and your boyfriend slept in the darkness in your room. The clock by your bed stand table alerts you if the time; it was far too late becoming nearly two in the morning you can’t possibly go to bed with this feeling in your body happening.

Your body rolls around to check on your boyfriend who has soon noticed your empty bed and starts to sit up wondering what was happening. His mind went to many wrong doings like you were getting burglars in your home and you woke up hearing something downstairs but no. “Baby what’s wrong? Why are you not going go back to sleep.”

Your eyes look away from him because you were annoyed by these cramps and you were starting to feel bad for your boyfriend interfering him from his own sleep. Your thoughts were pushed away and you turn around going to lay down murmuring. “It’s nothing let go back to sleep hyuck.” You tell him but he very much caught on that something wasn’t right and he looks at you laying down.

Your boyfriend wraps his arms round you whispering. “Baby something isn’t right. What’s wrong why can’t you sleep?” You sometimes wonder how you ended up getting such a kind person who can read your mind quite literally. It’s hard to hide stuff from him. Donghyuck was always asking and supervising you if everything was okay and if you’re concerned about something that was bothering you. Now it’s not any different. Your gaze in the darkness of your room was met with his and even if it was super dark because of how late it was you could see his kind eyes on you.

You trail not keeping him waiting. If Donghyuck wants to know you should tell him. “I am having really bad period cramps right now. I’m sorry I woke you up it wasn’t my intention to.” The man lays on the side for a while pulling your body close. “Baby is there anything i can do to help?”

He was the sweetest you thought. He was really the most sweetest soul on this planet living by asking you this. He could’ve went back to sleep but he chose not to knowing you won’t be able to. If you can’t get sleep he shouldn’t be getting sleep and that’s how it’s always been with you and him. You murmur a little quietly. “It’s fine. You should rest.” You tell him but that wasn’t enough for Donghyuck. He wants you to have a good night sleep for tomorrow. Your boyfriend slowly rubs your lower stomach with his hand as he lays with you, rubbing it in circular motions hoping it could somewhat stop your pain.

It didn’t do much but it certainly made you feel some type of way having his veiny dainty hands just there on your stomach laying on top of your cramp rubbing it. It felt awfully wholesome and warm it could make your heart start beating unrelentingly fast. His gaze turns to your stomach where his head leans and you roll on your back having your boyfriend come closer starting to plant a bunch of soft and small kisses on your stomach. You blush at his actions down below.

Donghyuck looks up at you after kissing where your cramp was. “Is it helping? Did the cramp stop hurting?” With your bright red cheeks concealed behind the night covering you both with the darkness you mentally prayed to stay strong. You lay your head against the pillow soft answering back. “It’s still there… it’s hurting really bad…”

He trails wondering for what more he can do to help you. “I’ll check the drawer for pain relief medicines okay?” Donghyuck shifts on his side of the bed again sitting up and turning the lamp on the bed stand making light to check the drawer down below where you both kept all sorts of medicine; but no period pills were found. He wanted to cuss when he saw the empty packet from last month you used.

Donghyuck dimly follows. “It’s empty. I’m sorry Y/n if the shops would be open i would go and grab a new pair right now.”

You close your eyes and your boyfriend bites down on his lip worrying for you now. It seems to be very bad for you this cycle and he couldn’t help but feel really sorry that he can’t do anything to help. Instead your boyfriend turns to the clock thinking what else he can do. Then something hits him as he goes to look at you having an idea what he could do to at least provide a good distraction from your period. He tugs on your arms holding them.

You look up at your boyfriend as he holds your hand. He goes to kiss your forehead and lovingly look into your eyes as he held your hand with his. “I heard it helps some women if they… have sex. I mean— we don’t need to have sex. I don’t need it but my fingers could maybe help you out if you… need a distraction I’m willing to pleasure you until you feel sleepy again.” He whispers gazing down at your hands holding. “But only if you want it. I’ll do anything to make you feel okay and it might work.”

It sounded tempting and you were willing to try it if your boyfriend was. But the fact that he clarified and made it clear he wouldn’t get anything out of it and only you will made it so much more pure intention than you think it would’ve been. Donghyuck has made it crystal clear he didn’t need to do anything he just needs to please you until your cramps were satisfied. You look up slowly nodding finally giving into the idea. If it works you’re both satisfied and if it doesn’t we can try something else. “Okay we can try it out.”

He smiles at you putting a few strands behind your ears so he could see your beautiful face. “Alright i’ll grab the towel and other essentials we will need.” You look back at the door leading to the shower pointing at your gaze with it. “I’ll take a quick shower before we start.”

Donghyuck nodded understanding what you were wanting to do and he let you get away to shower as he would grab a pair of dark coloured towels and a glass of water if you ever needed it. The glass of water was put on your bed nightstand table whereas the towel was neatly laid on the bed for you. When you were done showering it took only ten minutes you came out in the same pyjamas only smelling cleaner and your heavenly body gel was in the air pleasant to smell. He could smell your fresh body scent and he smiles seeing you come out of the bathroom slowly.

When you saw the towel your eyes go back on Donghyuck as you crawl on the bed with your soft hair unlocked from the hair clip. Donghyuck softly kissed your cheek whispering gently. “How are you feeling? The cramps are still bad?” You nod unfortunately the cramps were still there. He looks down as you lay down making yourself comfortable for your boyfriend. The lower clothing was slipping off his fingers helping you out. Donghyuck reassures you as he looks down at you seeing a sudden nervous expression.

You and him never tried anything on your period. Never ever came to that situation where you both wanted to do something. It’s not like he was against it but you and him never ever thought about doing something like that before. But now that it came up it made you feel like it was your first time again with Donghyuck and it felt really anticipating for you. It’s going to be the same as before when he fingers you normally but why did it feel awfully foreign like he has never done this to you before?

“I promise you i’ll be careful and gentle okay?” He said to you and you look back at him softly nodding. “I know you will be. It’s just… won’t you be slightly disgusted? Even my period sometimes makes me feel like that sometimes.”

“There’s nothing disgusting about it. It’s not like you can exactly help it. I don’t want you to think I’m going to judge you for it because I’m not okay? Remember i’m your boyfriend not some random you just met.” You smile hearing this. You were reminded that he wasn’t new to exploring you and even if this were a completely new experience for the both of you, you were willing to share this moment together and at the end of the day Donghyuck is doing this to help you feel better for you not for his sake. “You’re right…” you tell him.

“You know what they say, a happy girlfriend equals a happy boyfriend.” He adds with a little laugh and you can’t help but cheese At whatever he said. He were breaking the little awkwardness and tension away that you build up and only to feel the edge of his fingers caress your clit. Eventually his fingers enter you very slowly and it felt new again but this time you were able to put the new sensation on.

Your body slowly starts getting that new pleasuring feeling of his finger moving inside you slowly. It was only a single digit inside you and you were weakly moaning out he could feel every part of you throbbing and it wasn’t even halfway through it. He wouldn’t of thought periods made everything you feel hundred times more sensitive and reactive. Your body was practically begging for a little more every time he did something now. He bit down his lip watching you get completely taken over by pleasure and lust and he soon adds the second fingering making your body jolt at the sudden stretch growing bigger and wider.

Donghyuck admires your face frowning at every little thrust his fingers did inside you and it shown how good you must be feeling; as if you were flying perhaps? Floating in the sky and open wide air placement at each little pleasing hit your body could take a hold of. He loves seeing it. Seeing you enjoying yourself and you suppose that’s a part of joy taking because he loved it as much as you did too. His fingers curl up in you and then a rough pound happens. You choke out broken moans now as your hips stutter back at him. Your stomach was sucked in sharply in deep.

He smirks as he found a new way to have your entire body shaking. Leaving his fingers curled in you and now starting to pound at every inch in you letting his hands form a round circle shape letting you shake in each hold as he was hitting a very sensitive spot of yours inside, he wasn’t even aware of it until now, and seems like neither were you. “Oh— god Hyuck please don’t stop… it feels… so good.” You mumble in between your lips breaking apart it’s as if you couldn’t even speak because it felt far too good. Only noises you couldn’t believe came out were coming freely as they wanted.

Your boyfriend loved taking notes of you speaking indescribably words of pleasure it’s as if you lost your mind a little and he took it as a good sign to see you shaking enjoying this with such a sensual seductive voice and smile you put out weekly to let him know to continue. It’s the way your hands were holding his forearms that we’re holding your thigh while the other hand was completely rocking your ins turning them inside and out. “Yeah? You like this a lot? Should we do this more often my love?” It was all sorts of questions you wanted to say yes but all you could do was nod at him constantly.

Maybe you should do this more often with your boyfriend. Maybe you should’ve done this a long time ago because this whole new feeling was a different kind that you both felt connected in a weird way — Donghyuck loved exploring this new you and you couldn’t help but felt more accepted now. Knowing your boyfriend couldn’t care if you’re on your menstrual cycle. He couldn’t care less because you are his girlfriend and he will love you no matter what. You can’t believe you doubted it a little earlier thinking he was going to judge you.

You cut out quickly squeezing your inner thighs against his hand between your legs going in so deep when a sudden wave of water comes out and Donghyuck sat there watching you spill out so much that he couldn’t even breathe for a moment.

You lay there dazed but you were mentally screaming at yourself not expecting you to have a big orgasm like that. “Shit — I’m sorry i made a mess…” Donghyuck looks up at you. “Holy shit that was… hot. What are you talking about why are you sorry?” He laughs as you look at him dumbfounded.

Guess he likes seeing you completely worked out? Who would’ve thought your boyfriend was going places seeing this happen in his eyes loving every minute of it. You shakily exhale as he looks at you. The towel was completely wrecked but that’s what he intended to do. He wasn’t letting you leave without you wrecking it all out. All that frustration and cramps to go away and it seems like they did because you’re dozing off now.

He was quick to wash his hands and take the towel away putting it in the washing machine so it could get clean tomorrow. Donghyuck comes back seeing you all tucked in laying there as you went out to clean yourself again but now that you were laying down with a tired face he could sense you were ready to just fall asleep instantly now.

He grabbed the glass of water sitting on the edge of your bed. “Baby how are you feeling now? No Growing Pains?” And you sat up taking the glass of water drinking a little.

You look up lovingly to your boyfriend smiling. “None at all. I feel pretty… good actually.”

“Good! I’m glad. Let’s go back to sleep.”

He was glad hearing this from you and putting the glass down and turning off the lamp. “Goodnight Y/n I love you.” He says tiredly and you hum also in a very sleepy tone. “Goodnight hyuck I love you too. Sleep well and thank you again.” One again your bodies were covering by the nightfall darkness and crawling under the duvet and blanket you were both tucked in with your arms wrapped around each other sharing the warmth. Donghyuck’s hands were petting the back of your head as he closed his eyes and your eyes were shut tight sleeping on his chest as he was softly caressing your hair. Slowly you both were now going to the subconscious, falling asleep.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <33

[bluebeary-jay]

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age,  for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together. 

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

[bittersweet-adagio]

KHOI v. SAI: PRE-ROUND

I’m scared. In all honesty, I’m scared. I thought maybe I’d die before this round came, but I didn’t. I didn’t, and now my actions are coming back to me like those vintage boomerangs.

When I talked to you at the dinner party, it felt like my world was ending as I saw the life in your eyes fade much darker when you saw my face. I was only trying to help you, but it seems like I made it much worse.

You know, it isn’t much longer now. Soon, I’ll get to close my eyes and rest my head under the light of your gaze forevermore. I’m sorry, Sai, but maybe it’s time for me to go.

Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions.

basically vibes of khoi v. sai… obviously this doesn’t cover ALL that happens before the round but. yep. posting this a bit early! love u all <3 this is pretty short n i did NOT read over this so sorry for any mistakes lols

What can Khoi do now but just wait for this all to be over? He’s going to lose and Sai is going to win. He may be the more popular vote, but no matter what, Khoi would never let Sai die for him.

If anything, Khoi should be the one with a hole through his heart and his body on the cold floor. The red of his blood spilled would look quite harsh on the cool blue he was wearing, but he wouldn’t mind. Not that he could, because the moment he bled, he’d have already breathed his last breath.

Sai is wearing red. Their outfit is as extravagant as usual, lacy and beautifully cluttered. It brings out their eyes. The same eyes that don’t look at Khoi anymore, the same eyes that look lifeless and pale, tired and angry.

It’s fine. Everything’s going to be just fine. When Khoi dies, he can meet Ellie in the afterlife. Maybe, eventually, he can see Vera too. But that’s if he loses. And he has to lose. It doesn’t matter what it takes.

“Are you ready to sing, Sai?” He asks, not expecting a response.

“Sure I am,” is the curt answer he was given.

“I helped write this song, you know.” Khoi reaches for the chain on his pants, fidgeting with the cold metal to stop the feeling of his body becoming warm with nervousness.

“Uh huh.”

It’s awkward, of course. They haven’t had a real conversation in years. Well, years before the dinner party. When Sai was…

It’s not important now.

It’s almost time for them to ascend to the stage together. They have a dance to do they barely practiced, unless forced by their guardians. It’ll be sloppy and uncoordinated, but that’s okay. It’ll be okay as long as Sai is there, full of life and overcome with emotion.

Khoi really has to do something drastic to lose, doesn’t he? God, the segyein would never let him lose the vote, that’s for sure, but… it’s not impossible, is it?

He can worry about that later. He needs to—

“Stop thinking so hard, Khoi.”

“What?”

Sai groans. “I said stop thinking so hard, you idiot. At this rate, everyone’ll know and you’ll lose the vote.” He points a harsh, accusing finger at Khoi’s chest.

“What if I want to lose the vote?” Khoi pushes the other’s finger away, crossing his arms. “What if I wanted you to win?”

“Haha, funny joke. Don’t mess with me like that again, or else I’ll think you’re being serious.”

“I am being serious.”

“You’re going to win, Khoi, that’s how these always fucking work, they’re rigged and it’s unfair. You know damn well I’m going to lose because I rank lower than you in fan votes.” Sai huffs when he sees Khoi’s uneasy expression. “Don’t make that face when you know I’m right.”

“Whatever you say,” Khoi replies, and suddenly the signal goes off for them to begin their ascent to the stage. “Good luck, Sai.”

Sai doesn’t dignify him with an acknowledgment of any kind.

This is going to hurt so bad.

[dandylovesturtles]

I said to myself, “I’m going to write a short little ficlet about April taking the boys’ pictures for Splinter, that will be cute,” and then the Donnie portion got so long that I was like “okay I’ll just write about that.” I’m sure later I will circle back to the other three, and April showing the pictures to Splinter.

Support 100 Feet and a World Away in the TMNT Separated AU competition if you wanna! I have no idea when my poll is coming…

…

“Okay, before we start planning today,” April pulls out her phone, turning on the camera, “I’m gonna take your picture!”

Donnie looks suspicious. She can’t blame him - he’s had to put a lot of trust in her, a person he barely knows. She’s sure there’s some part of him that still thinks she’s planning on turning him into some kind of freak show attraction. “Why?”

“I’m gonna show your dad.” She lifts the phone, frowning at the bad lighting. Too bad she can’t turn any more on… “He wants to see what you look like all grown up!”

That’s half of it. The other half, she’s sure, is that Splinter wants to know that she isn’t jerking him around - that she really has met the boys, that she can get to them. He’s having to put a lot of trust in her, too.

It’s a little overwhelming when she thinks about it too long, so she doesn’t. Just focus on getting the photos - that’s all she has to do.

“The man who claims to be my father, you mean,” says Donnie.

April swallows down an exasperated groan. “Donnie, he has baby pictures of you.”

“Are you telling me there’s no way of manipulating pictures?”

“What, you think they’re photoshopped?”

“Aha!” Donnie points at her dramatically. “So there is a way!”

She needs to change tacks here. “These would be hard to fake. He’d have to know what you look like - what all of you look like.” She gestures at him. “He’d have to know that you have markings on your arms and shoulders, your eye color, what your shell looks like… That your color is purple.”

Donnie still looks suspicious through her little speech, but at the last point, she can see something else break through. After all, that’s the one thing the scientists here don’t know.

He’s still not sold, she knows that, but she can’t blame him there, either. All the walls he’s built up are defensive, and they’ll take time to wear down.

“I wouldn’t show this to anyone I think would hurt you,” she says, hoping he believes her. “I’ll even delete it when I’m done, if you want.”

He hesitates a second longer, and when he moves back from the fence and lowers into the water she thinks he won’t agree. But then he surfaces again, a few feet back, and holds his arms straight out to the sides.

“Okay,” he says resolutely. “I’m ready.”

She stares at him. “Uh… why are you standing like that?”

“Is this not the normal protocol for taking pictures?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she does, anyway. “Is that how those creeps make you stand?”

“Yes.” He twists at the waist. “Front and then back.”

Of course. Every day she learns some new, messed up thing.

She wishes she could have five minutes alone with these creepazoid scientists - just her, them, and her trusty baseball bat.

But Donnie doesn’t need her justifiable rage right now, so she breathes past it and focuses.

“No, it’s not… Most people don’t take pictures like that.” T-pose for dominance crosses her mind, but there’s absolutely no time for explaining memes right now. “You wanna look more… natural.”

“Natural. Okay.” He drops his arms, then fidgets with his hands. “How do I do that?”

“Just stand how you normally stand when you talk to me.”

He frowns, then wades closer. Sways a little, his eyes locked on her. It’s interesting, how it doesn’t scare her like it did at first. “Like this?”

He looks angry like this. His mouth is set in a line, eyes intense. April knows it as his resting face, but what will Splinter think?

Telling Donnie to smile feels weird, though, so she sucks in a breath and nods. “Yep, like that. Okay, I’ll take the pic - it’s gonna flash, okay?”

“Flash?”

“Yeah, flash a bright light. Just for a second.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She holds up the phone, focuses, then takes the pic. Donnie doesn’t startle at the flash, and she’s glad she warned him about it.

The picture itself is… well, depressing is the only word she has for it. Donnie looks angry, standing alone in the dark, feet from the camera and behind a fence. The shadows from the chain link crisscross over his face and body, stark reminders of his captivity.

On one hand, it definitely shows the situation Donnie is in.

On the other, she can only imagine how it would feel to see this picture as a parent.

She kinda hates the idea of bringing Splinter only this… But what else can she do?

“Hmmm…” She taps the phone against the palm of her hand, thinking. Her eyes land on the slot in the fence they use to give Donnie food, and an idea forms.

“Is something wrong with it?” Donnie asks, and she shrugs.

“I was just thinking, the fence makes it hard to see your face.”

“I can’t leave the fence yet, though,” he reminds her, and she shakes her head.

“No, but I can give the phone to you.” She indicates the food slot.

Immediately his eyes light up. “You’re giving me the phone?” His voice pitches up in excitement.

“Hold your horses! We don’t have time for you to go down an internet search rabbit hole, okay?” He opens his mouth, and she shakes her head. “And you are not taking it apart.” He shuts his mouth again. “You’re just gonna take a selfie.”

“A selfie?”

“Yep!” She turns around, then lifts her phone so he can see the screen. He gets as close as he can without touching the fence, so close she can feel his breath as he exhales. His eyes are locked on the phone in fascination. “See this button? If you click that, it switches to the selfie camera.”

“There’s a camera on the front of the phone too!?” Donnie sounds delighted by this information. “Where are they hiding it!?”

“Uh, it’s up here… somewhere.” She gestures at the top of the phone, then shakes her head. “Anyway, once you’re ready, you click this button, and it takes the pic! And that’s called a selfie, because you took a picture of yourself.”

She shows him the picture they just took, of herself talking and Donnie leaning in close, watching with rapt attention. It’s definitely not her best picture, but Donnie looks so much more alive than he did in the last one, even still obscured by the fence.

She thinks she might keep that one, too.

“I see… a selfie.” Donnie says the word like he does all new ones, like he’s turning it around in his mouth to see how it feels. “And you want me to take one?”

“Yep!”

She turns to the food slot, then hesitates. There’s always a chance Donnie will completely disregard what she just said and take the phone for himself - she can’t exactly get it back from him if she hands it over.

But he’s been putting a lot of trust in her, so she can give a little back.

“Here - don’t let it get wet.”

She slips it into the slot. Donnie shakes off his hands, then takes it between his fingers, looking at it with entirely too much reverence. If he ever gets a phone if his own, she thinks, they’ll never get him off it.

For a moment he looks extremely tempted to start rooting through the internet no matter the risks, but after she clears her throat (twice) he gets back on task.

“Right, okay… so I just hold it up like this…” He squints, then moves around in the enclosure, watching the screen. “…I can see myself better here,” he says after he stops.

“You have better lighting there,” April agrees - not that the lighting was ever going to be great with just the dimmed safety lights. “Look at you, you’re a natural!”

Donnie lights up at the praise, his face loosening if not quite smiling. He takes the picture, then ducks like he’s about to go under the water (“Donnie, not with the phone!”), before wading back to the fence.

“Is this okay?” he asks, showing her the screen.

He doesn’t look angry anymore, and the lighting is better - and without the fence, there’s a clear view of his face.

April grins. “It is. Hey, how about you take a few more, though, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ah, yes… to be on the safe side,” he repeats, before wading back to the same spot as before. He lifts the phone, and starts taking pictures, looking at them each time.

After the first two, his lips twitch up, and then his smile grows and grows. April watches as he takes ten more pictures, even starting to tilt his head and angle this way and that. Like a normal kid trying to get the best shot for his instagram.

Her heart warms over it.

She’d let him do this all night if she could, but she only has a few hours and she has to get to the other boys, so after a few minutes more she calls out, “Donnie, I think that’s enough.”

“Can I take a few more?” He glances back at her. “This is… fun.”

“I know, but I gotta take pictures of your brothers, too.” She smiles reassuringly. “Once you’re outta here, you can take all the selfies you want, okay?”

He holds the phone tight, considering… but then he comes back to the slot and gently pushes it back to her.

She takes the phone and opens the pictures, flipping through them in order. His smile in the pictures gets wider and wider, quickly taking on that manic, unhinged quality he gets when he gets really worked up about something.

April feels like she likes those selfies the best. He looks most alive. Most like himself. She can’t wait to show these to Splinter.

After all, if he can’t love this kid at his most weird, he doesn’t deserve to be Donnie’s dad.

[internet-ink]

Oooo!! Could you write something where reader catches a bad cold and Leah goes into doctor mode and takes care of reader?

Sick day

Hello anon!

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy 😉

A warning that this does include the odd swear word.

As soon as I woke up this morning I could tell that something wasn’t right. My nose was stuffier than normal, my throat hurt a little, and I could feel a slight headache forming behind my eyes.

I was sick.

A loud sigh escaped my mouth as the realisation that I had caught the usual winter sickness dawned on me. I felt the arms wrapped around my waist tighten as I attempted to move.

In my tired state I had forgotten that Leah was staying over at my flat for the next couple of days. We had decided to spend the odd night together before we completely committed to moving in with each other. This was purely my idea, Leah had suggested to just say fuck it and move in right away, but my own worries of it being too soon meant that I suggested to have a few trial runs before it really happened.

“Y/N/N? You good?” Leah mumbled in her sleepy voice. Clearly my moving around had caused her to wake. I turned so that I could see the time on my small clock on my bedside table.

9:34am

Not too early. “Yeah, you go back to sleep Le. I’m just going to hop in the shower.” I croaked out. Shit my throat was worse than I thought. I was really hoping that the shower was going to make me feel better, I wanted to spend the next few days doing things with Leah and if I was sick I knew that she wouldn’t let me do anything.

She removed her arms from my waist, allowing me to get up, before she shuffled up the bed to get a better look at me. “You don’t sound good, are you feeling alright?” She asked, her voice now sounding more awake and definitely healthier than my own.

“Thanks.” I scoffed. “But no, I’m fine.” I continued. She really couldn’t know I was sick, it would completely ruin our plans.

“I’m not convinced. Let me check your temperature.”

I internally groaned as she hopped out of bed and walked through to my bathroom. “Leah don’t, I’m fi-” A cough interrupted my shout, making my throat feel worse than it did originally.

Well if she didn’t think I was sick before she definitely did now.

I followed her to the bathroom and chuckled lightly at the sight of her digging through all of my drawers.

“Where’s your thermometer thing?” She asked. She sounded a lot more serious than she did earlier, meaning that I wouldn’t get peace until she was 100% sure that I was okay.

“I don’t own one.” I shrugged.

Leah slowly stood up and turned so that she was staring at me, and she didn’t look impressed. It kind of freaked me out a bit, she looked like one of those killers from the horror movies. “Y/N you’re an adult and you don’t own a thermometer.” She commented, sounding weirdly calm. This just added to the whole serial killer vibe I was getting.

“Sorry?” I replied with my voice going up in pitch. Just as she was about to continue a sneeze interrupted her.

“Bless you.”

And another.

“Jesus Y/N.”

And another.

“Right I don’t need a thermometer to tell whether your sick or not. Off to bed you go.” She said with a firm voice. She put her arm on my lower back and guided me back to my bed. If I had more energy I would’ve argued back, but as much as I hated to admit it I knew she was right.

Leah pulled back the covers and I fell into the comfort of my bed. She tucked me in lightly before giving me a kiss on the head and turning to leave the room. I reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her from walking off.

“Where you going?” I asked in a small voice, my brave facade now vanishing as the pounding in my head began to worsen. Leah turned around with a sympathetic smile on her face and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Just going to call my mum. I’ll be right back, I promise.” She said before walking out.

Five minutes later a smile took over my face as Leah walked back into the room. She walked over to the bed and slid into her side, immediately wrapping me up in her arms as I rested my head on her chest, the sound of her heartbeat calming me.

“Mum said to keep you hydrated and give you paracetamol, do you have any?” She whispered into my hair.

I thought for a moment before replying. “No I used the last of it the other week.” I sighed. Great.

“That’s okay Y/N/N, I can go out and get some.” She said as she began to move.

“No! Please stay.” I mumbled. Leah was all I needed right now.

She moved back to her previous position and pressed a kiss to the top my hair. “Okay.” She whispered.

———

As I awoke I began to move my arms around to find Leah. My heart sunk as all I felt was empty air.

She was gone.

I felt tears prick my eyes at the thought of being alone right now. After sitting with my thoughts for a bit I reached to my bedside table and grabbed my phone, wincing at the brightness of the screen. I turned the brightness down before clicking Leah’s contact.

“You okay Y/N/N? What’s wrong?” Leah hurriedly asked as soon as she picked up.

“Where are you?” I asked. The room felt empty without her here. I was definitely ready for her to move in permanently, maybe getting sick was the push I needed.

She let out a sigh. “You scared me, I thought something was wrong. I’ve nipped out to Tesco. I’m getting you paracetamol and…well you’ll find out when I get back.” She replied.

“Okay just hurry up, I miss you.”

“I’m sorry Y/N/N, I thought you’d still be asleep for when I got back.” She said. “I’m next to be served so I’ve got to go. I love you.”

My heart warmed at the ‘I love you’. Even though we had been saying it to each other for awhile now, it still always had the same affect on me. “Okay. I love you too.” I replied before hanging up.

While I waited on my girlfriend returning I got Netflix up on the TV and switched on a random movie. It only really served as background noise as I kept drifting in and out of sleep, but it done the trick.

Around fifteen minutes later the sound of the front door closing disturbed my sleep. Leah was back and I couldn’t be happier about it. I could hear her moving about in the kitchen, presumably putting everything away. I decided I couldn’t wait any longer so I carefully got out of my bed, struggling a little due to dizziness, and walked to the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. I had walked in to see numerous vegetables and pots laying around the kitchen and a very stressed looking Leah examining her phone. My voice made her jump.

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re meant to be resting, get back to bed.” She replied, her voice sounding as firm as it did before.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She put the knife she was using to cut up a carrot down and crossed her arms across her chest. “If I answer will you go back to bed?”

“Possibly…” I dragged out.

She rolled her eyes and looked around the kitchen with her arms raised. “My mum sent me this recipe for some soup I should make you.” She said, sounding very stressed.

“Right…okay. I’ll go back now.” She smiled at my answer and I turned to make the walk back to my room. I laid back in my bed and actually payed attention to the movie playing, hoping that it would make the time pass quicker.

———

“Baby wake up.”

I opened my eyes and saw Leah leaning over me with a bowl of soup sat on the bed. I groaned and sniffled as I moved up the bed to allow myself to eat better. She handed me the soup before leaving for a second and coming back with a glass of water and two paracetamol.

“Eat, drink, and take these.” She instructed. She laid everything out next to me before climbing in the bed.

“Yes Dr Williamson.” I teased, earning me a gentle shove. I took a sip of the soup and was pleasantly surprised at the taste. I half expected it to make me even more sick by how it looked when I saw it earlier.

“Well done. Tastes good.” I smiled.

We sat together while I finished off everything, and after Leah had taken everything away to tidy up, she came back to bed and pulled me back into her arms.

“Thank you for today Le.” I whispered as my eyes were half closed. This cold had really taken it out of me.

Leah gave me a squeeze and kissed me on the cheek before smiling. “No need to thank me, I was just doing my job as a good girlfriend. Plus…I like taking care of you.”

I looked up and made eye contact with her. “Why don’t we do this permanently?” I asked while getting lost in her beautiful blue eyes.

She scrunched her nose up in confusion making me giggle. “What you getting sick?”

“No silly, you staying here.”

Leah’s face dropped for a second, scaring the shit out of me, before a grin took over. “You want me to move in.”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“I would love to.”

[asocialangel]

What Could Be

↬fake dating Shidou

After you made up inexistant rumors that the whole world thinks Shidou is gay, he might want to ask for your help to prove 'em he isn't.

chapter 1 – chapter 2 – chapter 3 – [...]

Shidou x fem!manager!reader. Fake dating. 700w. Okay this is so baddd ahh but more action with Shidou !! yaaa

Chapter 3, Going Public

[no warnings]

[“So, princess, what are the rules for our fake relationship ?”]

This was so casual yet it already gave you butterflies. But you wanted to pretend so bad it didn't. “Well first rule, no nicknames !” “No nicknames ? While dating ? Seriously ? This won’t even be believable, at least one of us has to use nicknames." You sighted. He was right, but princess… It just felt a lil too special to you, the kind of nickname you’d want to be used genuinely, not in some fake ass act. “What pet names do you think we'd use if we were actually dating ?” He asked again without even letting you time to answer. “I don't know, ‘baby’ ? He snickered: “That’s too corny. And it sounds weird in your mouth… Doesn’t anything come more naturally ?”. The way he was so chill, like it was just yet another relationship he was gonna get into irritated you more than it hurt you. “Princess sounds right for you, ‘cause look, you're already commanding me like we’re an old couple. You furrowed your eyebrows: “look, honey, we both know you need this more than I do, so lay low and stop GETTING ON MY NERVES” You whined that end part, getting really frustrated at just trying to imagine how this could possibly come out great. You closed your eyes really tightly. “That sounds about right.” “Honey? That's what we're going with?” You opened your eyes back up only to see Shidou making fun of you. You laughed, it wasn't that serious. 

You guys finished talking and quickly parted ways, he had a curfew and you still had quite a few things to get done before the end of the day. You had set something straight: tomorrow, you would ‘go public’ by holding hands and ‘accidentally’ getting caught kissing. You secretly wanted to ask him how it worked, but that meant revealing that you had not kissed anyone before and you couldn't handle more humiliation. That night you really struggled to fall asleep, heart pounding, anxious about the upcoming day and all the milestones you were about to break. So the next morning you tried to pretend everything was normal and that you were so detached. 

“I’m not buying it”. That’s literally the first thing Shidou answered to your “hi babe~” you tried to say confidently, so people would hear and also so Shidou would think you’re not shaking at his sight. “It’s okay to be flustered, I tend to have that effect on women”. “More like men. But anyway. Where should we be seen ?” It was so funny to meticulously plan something supposedly candid. “I was thinking the field, you could drop me off and give me a towel, kissing me goodbye.” “That’s way too obvious. We’re supposed to get caught in our secret relationship.” “Ah yeah, you’re right, well I don't know then.” “Then find some ideas ! I don't wanna be the one doing everything !” “Yeah I know you got beauty, not brains.” “Excuse me ?! –the sound level and tension kept growing– Was it deserved ? No ! Was it true ? N–” “–Vivi someone's coming ! Hold my hand, this is our chance !” “No ! I hate you ! You’re so annoy–” You couldn't even finish that Shidou grabbed your hand, pulling closer and kissed your mouth, leaving you breathless. 

Your first kiss, just like that. You couldn't even see who it was that caught you. You were so stunned. An overwhelming amount of sensations triggered an overwhelming amount of emotions. But, they were… so positive. Calm but at the same time excitement, lust maybe, curiosity and lots of bashfulness. When he pulled out of the kiss, you already missed his warm tongue. You finally registered his hand lightly stroking your lower back as you looked away hoping he wouldn't see your vermillion cheeks. Now you knew: it was Isagi, Bachira and Barou who caught you two. Isagi looked extremely uneasy, making you wonder why is HE the one embarrassed here ?! On the other hand, Barou stayed impassive, his face was so neutral you couldn't decipher what he was thinking. He looked low-key disappointed though. But Bachira ? Ooh your ears hurt with how much he screamed and giggled. He made the serious promise to tell all Blue Lock. And you knew he was dead serious. This drama king… 

The second they left you shouted, pink in embarrassment at Shidou: “I HAD SAID NO ! AND WE WE SAID KISS, I MEANT KISS ON THE CHEEK !!” “That was your first right ? I could tell”. He laughed softly looking at you dead in the eye, so attractive you started blushing all over again. It wasn’t mockery or disgust in his eyes, but you couldn't say what. Maybe endearment, wanting to help. “I hate you”. “But I was good, right ?” “I don't know, I'm not sure what it’s supposed to be like”, you rolled your eyes to pretend you didn't love every second of it. 

“We’ll practice”.

A/N loolll this is so clumsily written i hate it, but i now have a clear idea of which events will happen in which chapters so i think i won't be abandonning this project for sure !!!

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

hi hi! sooo i’m having to have a procedure done at the hospital tuesday and i was wondering you could possible write a sick reader with one of Gwen’s characters? you can pick which character you’re in the mood to write for please! i’m really really nervous for tuesday and the prep for it started today. i’ve cried multiple times today too 😅 i’m feeling really bad and just want some Gwen/Gwen character comfort. if you don’t wanna write this it’s completely okay! i hope your day/evening are amazing! ☺️💚

You're a Pain in my Ass Side

Lariss Weems x reader

Warnings: Appendicitis, hospitals, medical stuff, surgery

A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry this took so long! I hope your surgery went well! I'm getting surgery soon to remove some tumors in my back so I know how you feel! I kind of based this oneshot off of when I had to get my appendix removed at 14 so...that was fun.

You wince in pain, clutching the right side of your abdomen. The pain had been coming and going since early that morning and it was now dinner time.

 Larissa, who sits beside you on the couch, notices immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Larissa,” you say. “I’m fine.”

In truth, the pain had been consistent throughout the day, and it was only getting worse. 

Larissa eyed you nervously. “I don’t know, Y/N. You’ve always been one to minimize things.”

“Larissa,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“You’re the love of my life. I’ll always worry.”

While Larissa was snoring softly beside you in bed, falling asleep was almost impossible. The sharp pain in your abdomen refused to go away and you lay there, curled in a ball. You give up trying to sleep around 2am and take your phone off the charger and unlock it.

‘Pain in the right lower abdomen,’ you search online.

The first thing that pops up is appendicitis. You look more into it and find that almost every symptom listed relates to your condition. 

Shit.

‘But what were the chances of it actually being appendicitis?’ you ask yourself. ‘It’s probably nothing.’

Eventually, you do fall asleep, but about an hour later, your alarm goes off. You’re groaning as you turn over, meeting Larissa’s sleepy smile.

“Sleep well?” she asks, yawning after.

“Define well,” you mutter.

Larissa frowns and rubs the sleep from her eyes. “I’m sorry, darling.” She watches as you wince again from the pain in your side. “Seriously? Y/N it’s obviously not nothing! You’re in pain!”

“Larissa, really. I’m alright,” you assure her. “I’ve been in worse pain.”

She sighs and leans over to kiss your forehead. “Alright…If you say so.”

Larissa was kicking herself all day. Sometimes she hated how stubborn you could be…and this was one of those cases. She texts you constantly throughout the day asking you about any other symptoms, how long the pain has been there, and assuring you that it’s alright to go to the hospital if needed. In fact, she urged you to let her drive you to the hospital.

Multiple times that day, you had to pause lecturing the students because the pain became so bad. At lunch, you were seated at your desk grading papers when you doubled over in pain. And, to your dismay, Larissa had walked in right at that moment.

“Alright! You are not okay!” she scolds. 

“Larissa,” you sigh, “I’m fine! I promise!”

Her jaw drops. “Y/N, you are hunched over and groaning because it hurts so badly!” She walks over to you, huffing as she puts her hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up, darling! Come on! I’ll have a teacher substitute for your la–”

“No!” you shout. “Larissa! I’m alright, re–Jesus Christ!”

Another wave of pain and you could hardly talk. Larissa purses her lips and her eyes are aflame. “Quit being stubborn! We’re going to the hospital!”

You give up. You knew it was a lost cause to argue with Larissa on this matter. So, you allow her to take your arm, supporting you as you walk to the car. As she starts driving, you speak up, “Don’t take me to Jericho Medical. I don’t care if it’s closer, I can wait half an hour for Burlington.”

She looks over at you, peeved to say the least. “Fine. We can go to Burlington.”

You sit in the waiting room of the emergency room beside Larissa as she fills out forms for you. 

“You don’t smoke, you’re not on any medications,” she mutters. “Are you pregnant?” You glare at her and she giggles, “Just joking around, darling. Do you have any allergies to certain medications?”

When your name is called and your vitals and symptoms are taken by a nurse, you’re administered painkillers and told to wait for the doctor. 

“How are you feeling?” Larissa asks, taking your hand.

Your eyelids are heavy but you give her a soft smile. “Tired. I fell asleep an hour before our alarm went off.”

Larissa chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. What about the pain?”

“Meh…Pain meds have never really worked on me,” you say.

The doctor enters the room, and once again, you’re asked how you’re feeling. The doctor and her interns explained the process of diagnosing, wheeling you away from Larissa to perform a CT scan. 

You wait a little over an hour before the doctor returns. “Well,” she says, “looks like appendicitis!”

You groan and Larissa quietly laughs, taking your hand and muttering, “I told you so.”

The doctor explains the procedure, saying it would only take about an hour, and that it would be done through your belly button. “Laparoscopically,” she had said.

After being admitted, you’re assigned to an actual room, and Larissa immediately goes to get something to eat. 

“I’m starving,” you whine, watching as Larissa eats a bag of chips from the hospital cafeteria beside you in pre-op. “You could’ve at least waited until I was in surgery.”

Larissa gave a sheepish look. “...Sorry. I’m just…I promise, sweetheart, after you wake up, I’ll get you all the sherbet you can eat,” she says, pronouncing the ‘bert’ as ‘bit’.

“I hate how you say ‘sherbert’,” you laugh. “But thank you.”

Last minute medications to prepare you for surgery are injected through your IV, and these ones work. Your head feels fuzzy and you’re…loose lipped, so to say. 

Turning to the nurse, you smile and whisper loudly to her, “Do you see the woman next to me? Isn’t she gorgeous? I am so lucky! She’s eating in front of me, though, and I haven’t eaten since dinner last night.”

The nurse laughs as she places a heated blanket over you and fits compression socks over your feet. “That might be a dealbreaker, huh?”

“Too late to be a dealbreaker,” you slur. “I married her.”

Larissa smiles as she watches you talk to the nurse, enjoying how blissfully unaware you are that she can hear you. Before you’re wheeled into the operating room, she leans over and gives you one last kiss. “I’ll see you soon, darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you mumble. Turning back to the nurse, you grin. “Isn’t her accent hot? That’s what I married her for–her Britishness.”

Hours later, you wake to the feeling of Larissa’s fingers combing through your hair. “Oh, good! You’re awake!”

“I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten,” you mutter. 

She giggles and places a kiss on your forehead. “It’s ten o’clock and you’ve been out since two, so you definitely got some well-needed rest.”

“I don’t remember the last time I got more than six hours of sleep,” you say, your eyes slowly but surely ridding themselves of the grogginess that the anesthesia caused.

“Probably our honeymoon.” Larissa hums and her free hand takes yours before pressing a kiss to it. 

Thinking for a moment, you shake your head. “No…There was a long weekend a few months ago and you fucked me so h–”

Her hand drops yours quickly and moves to cover your mouth. “Alright, how about we wait until you’re fully awake and off anesthesia.”

[effyrosemary]

oh my god unethical priest marius you're a genius!!!!! do you think armand resists the idea that letting his priest fuck him is totally okay in the eyes of god or is he relieved to finally let go and give into his baser desires.... or both! do you think it makes him less guilty or more? god and imagine if marius were to weaponize armand's guilt in order to keep him even more trapped, like yes you are so bad for this and i'm the only one who can absolve you. i'm so invested LOL if you have any hcs of how it would play out i'm aaalll ears

Omg! thank you! To answer your question:

I think it’s both kinda. I think for Armand it would be so liberating to finally give in to these desires, and I think the shame is also kind of what gets him off (it’s the classic “oh no this is so wrong, but it feels so good!”). But I also think that there’s still a small part of him that genuinely feels it’s wrong to do these sexual things. Armand desperately wants to believe in something, I think, and to have that stability so he can have a space for himself to rebuild and to trust again. (don’t get me started, I have this whole fic idea of Daniel trying to provide Armand with a cozy little home and emotional support and stability so Armand has a space to heal, but that’s another story for another day) But I also feel like Armand is very nihilistic in some ways, so maybe he feels guilty but he also goes against the guilt on purpose, to feel that hurt and to feel that shame, I don’t know if you’re following me hahah

And omg, Marius weaponizing the genuine guilt is so wrong and so deliciously GOOD. (idc! it’s fiction! they’re not real people! let us have our dirty thoughts OK!)

When I first saw “unethical therapist Marius” on @monstersinthecosmos I was so immediately hooked. (I then sent this anon bc I needed to talk about it lmao, I was still not familiar with tumblr again after being away for a long time and I thought maybe people will think I’m weird but now I say fuck it bc Anne Rice never shunned away from people thinking her stories/characters were strange/too much.)

Marius is always so seemingly in control, and I love when he’s fooling himself that he’s doing the right thing when he KNOWS he’s not. That’s also why I like Pandora and him together, she kinda sees through his mask. Spoiler: I still remember that one part in Blood Communion after Marius kills Arjun where they’re all sitting around the table and Marius is furiously talking to Pandora and Lestat says: “I had never seen him so angry”, in other words; Lestat has never really seen Marius’ mask break like that, except now that he is upset with/about Pandora. Or when he’s helped out of the ice by Pandora and Santino in QOTD where he childishly snaps at her and says “I can walk unaided, thank you!” when Pandora reaches out to touch him, and she just gives him a shove and is like ‘“Fine girl, walk then lmao”

He wants to be this voice of reason, this stability etc, and he is, but he’s also human. So I love it when those kind of characters secretly give in to their bad side and try to justify it! I also love it when usually reserved people finally snap and can’t control themselves anymore when they finally get what they want, it’s my favorite thing. (There is this beautiful fic by @0junemeatcleaver0 where Marius kinda loses his composure at some points and he gives in to what he really wants and it’s so good. Highly recommend that fic in general.)

I LOVE headcanons, please tell me if you have some! These are some of mine regarding priest!marius:

- Marius has to actively restrain his thoughts from going wild when he sees Armand on his knees, or when the boy is reaching up to clean a shelf and his shirt rises and Marius can see the silky skin of his lower back. He’s practically drooling :)

- Armand secretly kind of knows the relationship between them is wrong, but he tries to test Marius by experimenting. (Sitting next to Marius and accidentally letting their knees touch etc that sort of thing, playing it dirty but also safe you know)

- Armand gets turned on when Marius is preaching in front of the crowd (idk how that shit works I’m not even religious, I never grew up religious lmao! how bad I am!) because Armand loves to see Marius in a position of power, and he loves how the people of the church look up to him.

- Armand has definitely thought about sucking Marius off under his robes when he’s speaking in front of a church full of people.

- At night, when Marius can’t think of nothing but Armand’s shapely legs and his lovely mouth, he turns to his Bible with the stubborn will of A Good Man and tries to ignore the insistent throbbing between his legs. And he can manage it, at least for a while.

- But then one night, he walks in on Armand praying on his knees and he walks up to tell the boy to go on home because it’s late and he should get some sleep, and the boy looks up from where he’s kneeling and says in a small voice, cheeks blushing; “I can’t, father. I’ll have sinful thoughts when I’m trying to sleep, I need to pray first.”

- And Marius offers he can help Armand with these thoughts, if Armand is willing to learn how to be a proper man of God.

- Nothing gets Marius more worked up than the idea of Armand calling him ‘ Father’ when they’re getting dirty together, it drives him feral

Alors… as Armand once told David Talbot; “Look, I’m deranged x”

* English is not my first language so apologies if there are some typos. Edit: I can’t believe I forgot the word “not” in the previous sentence for DAYS I have No Brains

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter Five

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: brief mention of sex toys and kinks (butt plugs, dildos, pegging. But not in the way you think lol)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129441475

My tag list is OPEN. Please just ask to be added if you'd like :D

****

“Okay…” Slipping off his coat, Tyler surveys his surroundings, greeting a waiting and ecstatic Lucy with a vigorous rub of the head. “...now it’s all starting to make sense.”

Esme sets both the wheeled suitcase and duffle bag by the door, then drops her hobo-style handbag on the kitchen table. “What’s making sense?”

“Why none of those pictures from the ‘net showed the inside of this place.”

Shrugging out of her jacket, she removes her beanie and tosses both aside; shaking out her long, dark tresses before placing her hands on her hips and surveying their surroundings. “It’s not THAT bad. It’s quaint. Cozy. Cute.”

“You realize that’s wood panelling on the walls, yeah?”

“Okay, so it kind of reminds me of my grandparents’ basement. Which they haven’t remodelled since the early seventies. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve LIVED in worse.”

“Is this where you tell me about your time in some rat-infested dump in New York City?”

“New York isn’t as horrible as you make it out to be. I would have given up an organ, even a limb, to land something right in the city. A walk-up apartment in an old brownstone. That was always my dream. To have a cute little place like Carrie Bradshaw’s.”

“Who?”

“Carrie Bradshaw. The main character in Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker? She’s married to Matthew Broderick? You know, the guy who was Ferris Bueller?”

“I have no goddamn clue who any of these people are.”

“You’ve never heard of Sex and the City? Have you been living in a cave? Cooking over an open fire? Throwing random women over your shoulder and carrying them back for sexy time?”

Smirking, he removes his beanie. “That’s how I landed you, wasn’t it?”

“You landed me with your pretty blue eyes and your sexy voice and your big dick.”

“You’re nothing if not honest.”

“Carrie is a writer,” Esme continues, holding the back of a kitchen chair to keep it steady as he lowers himself into it. “She writes about relationships and sex and life in the Big Apple. And she’s got her little posse; Miranda, the fiercely independent lawyer, Charlotte the die-hard romantic, longing to find true love, Samantha the big-time slut who loves men just a little too much. She was my favourite, by the way.”

“Makes sense. What’s that saying? Something about birds of a feather flocking together?”

She scowls. “Well, that’s just plain rude.”

“If you ask me, the show sounds like it’s for girls.”

“Plenty of men loved it. Mostly gay men, but…” Retreating to the middle of the living room, she places a hand on her hip, eyes narrowing as she taps the tip of her index against her lips.. “...I see the potential here. It’s not a lost cause. And it’s definitely not hideous. It’s just…”

“It’s ugly, and you know it.”

“Dated. It’s dated.”

“It’s not a person. You can say what you really feel. You can’t hurt its feelings.”

“I thought you, of all people, would love something like this. This is a five-star resort compared to where you were living when I met you.”

“I’ll have you know that I built that place myself. By hand.”

“And I’m extremely proud of you, and I find it very sexy when a man is great with his hands. In all the best possible ways. But babe, you had no interior walls, most of your windows didn’t close properly, and you had chickens as roommates. Believe me, this is a step up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s a ‘no’ to chickens in the house. Kinda ruins my plans.”

“As much as I’d rather NOT be constantly picking up their shit, I’ll deal. Only because I know how much you love the mangey little bastards. But they are NOT sleeping in bed with us.”

“What about night’s you’re not here?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll encounter nights like those, but IF it happens? You better make sure you change the damn sheets before I get home. You totally slept with your chickens before you met me, didn’t you. You totally let them in the bed.”

“Once in a while.”

“So which one of you was the little spoon? Or did you alternate every second night?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a really smart mouth?”

“No. But I have been told how extremely talented it is.”

“That I CAN’T argue with. I definitely have no complaints.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen to them. So…” Tugging playfully on his ears, she lays a hand on the nape of his neck and steps around to the side of the chair. “...what do you think? About this place? I know it isn’t as bougie as you’re used to, but…”

Reaching under the bottom of her shirt, he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulls her down onto his left thigh. “It’s tolerable. For now.” Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hand moves to her stomach, calloused palm flat against warm, smooth skin. “Until we’re able to get around to doing stuff.”

“Nik says it’s all ours. We can do whatever we want with it. I know it’s not going to be a permanent place for us, but…”

“I mean, it could be. If that’s what you wanted.”

“I just assumed you’d want to go home. That we’d end up in Australia.”

“We can end up wherever you want. I have no ties to ANY place. Just say where you want to go, and that’s where we’ll head.”

“It’s definitely something we’ll have to talk about. I can’t really decide something like THAT all on my own. You need to have a say in it, too. It’s not just me that deserves to be happy.”

“I’m happy as long as you are. Just say where you want to go. We’ll go.”

“As cute and sappy as that is…”

“You did NOT just use the c and the s word to describe me. In the SAME sentence.”

“...we both know it doesn’t work that way. That if you just follow me somewhere with no say, things would not end well. So we’ll talk about it. When we’re ready to make a decision like that. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Goddamn, you’re difficult.”

“I thought I was being pretty easy and reasonable. What more do you want from me?”

“We both need to do a lot of work when it comes to being in a relationship.”

“Please don’t suggest therapy. I’ve had enough therapy in the past two months to last me a lifetime.”

“No therapy. I might get you to read some self-help books or listen to some podcasts…”

“Get off me.”

“That’s a request you usually don’t make,” she quips, then laughs and tightens her hold on him when he attempts to push her off his lap. “Baby, you’re so cute. Even when you’re being a grumpy shit.”

He smirks. “Fuck off, Esme.”

“You need a nap.” Placing a kiss on his temple, she affectionately tousles his hair and stands. “Or something to eat. Maybe both. Are you hangry, Tyler James? Are you hangry and sweepy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around and then make us something to eat. And you’ve got meds to take. You’re due.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what the doctor said. About making sure you keep on schedule. If you don’t do that…”

“The pain will really set in, and it’ll be harder to get rid of it. I was there. I heard him.”

“Then quit being so difficult. You don’t need to be an insufferable asshole twenty-four-seven.”

“Yes, I do. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Believe me, your reputation isn’t going anywhere. Not everyone can survive what you did. I think you cemented your legend status.”

“By the way, how does that make you feel about things?”

She pauses in the doorway of the spare bedroom. “What things?”

“Life, in general. Knowing you’re spending your life fucking a legend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? Considering I haven’t fucked him since he got the title.”

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he snatches the discarded beanie from the middle of the table. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“Now THAT I do know.” She laughs as she effortlessly dodges the hat thrown in her direction. “Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll make something to eat. You won’t starve in the meantime.”

“You’re actually going to subject me to your cooking the first day in?”

Scowling, she disappears into the second bedroom. Several seconds passing before just her hand appears in the doorway in order to flip him the middle finger.

His fingers alternate between slipping through Lucy’s short, smooth fur and scratching her favourite spot directly under her chin. Listening as Esme’s feet -clad in thick, mismatched woollen socks move over the weathered and creaking floorboards. Hearing intermittent soft clicking and the sliding of wood against wood as she inspects dresser and nightstand drawers. And when it finally falls silent, he calls out to her. “Anything interesting?”

“Whoever lived here before us were total freaks! I just found a whole load of gigantic dildos in the bedside table! And one of those harnesses a woman wears. You know, when she does her man up the…”

“Esme…”

“I don’t see any lube though. I guess we’re not trying pegging tonight.”

“Don’t even THINK about it.”

“What would you say if I came to bed and had a butt plug in with a raccoon’s tail hanging off it?”

“I’d call you a freak and kick you out onto the couch.”

She gives a disgruntled, dramatic huff, then appears in the doorway. “You’re boring.”

“You certainly weren’t saying that two nights ago when we almost got caught by the night nurse. While you were giving me…”

“Like, no pegging with giant dildos and no raccoon tail butt plugs? I swear, a girl can’t have ANY fun.”

“If that’s your idea of fun, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Don’t worry, big boy.” She shoots him a wink as she pads through the small, open-concept living room and kitchen. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You even come near me with one of those things…”

“I was joking. I didn’t find a damn thing. Which is incredibly disappointing. I was hoping some eccentric weirdo lived here before and left some wild shit behind.”

“Have you looked around this place? The panelling? Fucking knick-knacks all over the place? A goddamn deer head on the wall? Does any of that scream eccentric weirdo do you?”

“It could have been to throw off visitors. Convince innocent, unsuspecting people that they were completely normal. You know, so they could drug their coffee and tea in order to knock them out and hide them in their sex dungeon!”

“I think it’s safe to say that no one normal lives here NOW. Well, one of us might be considered somewhat sane.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a psycho.”

She opens the door to the main bathroom and pokes her head inside. Fingernails tapping against the wall as she makes approving noises and comments about the brand new shower, tub, sink, and toilet. Then proceeds to curse and grumble about having to DEFINITELY change the flooring and the colour of the walls.

“I think we both know I’m the only somewhat normal one around here.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She moves to the master bedroom, mere seconds passing before she gives a loud gasp. “Oh my god….TYLER!”

“Let me guess, you found the sex dungeon.”

“Even better!” She appears in the doorway, eyes sparkling and dancing as she gives an excited squeal and bounces up and down on her heels. “It’s bigger than I expected!”

“Didn’t you say those exact words in Dhaka? The first time I dropped my pants?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That you exceeded even MY lofty expectations.”

“What did you find? I swear if it’s anything remotely related to me taking something up the ass…”

“Nothing like that! You need to see it! It’s enormous!”

“You don’t have another guy stashed in there, do you?”

“I can barely handle the one I already have. Why would I want the extra stress? Seriously, come and see this.”

“I know what a bedroom looks like.”

“It’s not just the room that’s bigger and better than I thought it would be! It’s the bed! It takes up so much space, and there’s still lots of room to spare. Please just come and take a look? Because I asked so nicely? Pretty please? I know how much you love to make me happy.”

“For someone so tiny, you’re an enormous pain in my ass,” he grumbles, yet shoots her a wink. A hand on the table top as he slowly pushes himself up onto his feet; fighting back a wince as even the most careful of movements bring almost unbearable agony. Too much time spent on his ass during the flight and the long drive from Vienna to the cabin; his knee feeling tight and swollen and in desperate need of relief.

“As soon as we eat, you put your leg up,” Esme informs him, as he joins her in the doorway. “It’s not good to go this long without elevating it. And you WILL take your meds.”

“While I’d normally argue with you and tell you I’m fine…”

“That’s how I know it’s bad. You’re NOT giving me a hard time.”

“I’ll be okay. Just he assures her, and places a hand on the back of her neck, his lips meeting her temple as his fingers massage the stiff, tight muscles. “Just need to rest it.”

For months she’s held onto an enormous amount of stress and tension; those long, trying days and nights spent at his bedside, fighting back against the doctors who had already declared him a lost cause and wanted to just pull the plug. But she’d held on there despite the pressure dumped upon her, digging her heels in even further and refusing to break to their demands. They weren’t using him as a sacrifice to the healthcare system Gods; they’d have to find another way to ‘free up a bed’.

“She’s going to break sooner or later,” Nik had warned him just days before his release. “She’s been shouldering all of this for three quarters of a year. I’ve been around some very tough people, but none as tough as THAT. She can’t keep it up, Tyler. She just can’t. We all break at one point or another. And when her time comes, you’re going to have to be there for her. Because she’ll need you. So you better be sure that you’ll step up.”

One of her tiny hands falls on the small of his back as he sticks his head into the master. “What do you think? It’s huge, right?”

“Definitely bigger than I expected. The room AND the bed.”

She playfully smacks his ass, grinning up at him as she tightly squeezes a cheek through the fabric of his pants. “You know how much I love a large playground.”

“Speaking of playtime, when do I get my surprise?”

“Patience is a virtue, old fella.”

“For who?”

“The virtuous, I guess. Besides, I thought you were hungry. And tired. And sore.”

“I am. I’m all three of those. But…” He hastily removes the sling from his left arm, tearing open the velcro fasteners and tossing the object onto the dresser. Not giving her a chance to respond, he grabs hold of her hips and uses his much larger, heavier frame to propel her backwards into the room.

“We’re really going to give it a go, are we? Right this second?”

“No time like the present. I’ve been wanting to give it a go since we left the hospital. Even BEFORE that. I was going to say something on the plane; about joining the mile-high club, but…”

“Been there, done that.”

He frowns, pausing as he leans in to kiss her, their lips a hair’s width apart.

“You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler Rake.”

“Did he teach you anything good?”

“He taught me a few things.” Her hands slide up the front of his henley shirt, chestnut eyes locked on brilliant blue as she softly drags the nails of her index across his stomach. Beginning their lazy journey at his belt buckle and finally finishing at each of his hips. “Who do you think is responsible for this mouth being so talented?”

“As much as I hate even thinking about you with other guys, I want his name and address. So I can send him a thank you card. And a case of beer. You know, just a small token of gratitude.”

“And seeing as he didn’t give a shit about what I needed to feel good, I figured I’d let you teach me the rest.”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be. I’ve already let you go where no man has ever dared to go before.”

“Only because you asked me if I would. Can’t believe it only took two days.”

“What can I say…” She catches him off guard by pushing him backwards, pinning him between her body and the dresser as she aggressively yanks open his belt. “...you have that effect on me.”

“I realize I’m still hurting, and I got a long way to go, but don’t think for a second you get to be the boss. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Who are you kidding?” She pops open the button on his pants. “I’m always the boss.”

Smirking, he snatches her by the throat, fingers lightly pressing into the soft, delicate flesh as he pushes her towards the bed. And she gives a gasp of surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, giggling when she loses her balance and topples backwards.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. a slow grin spreading from ear to ear as she watches him quickly dispose of both knee brace and pants and hastily toss them into the nearest corner. “No underwear, huh? You WERE hopeful.”

“Easy access. For both of us.”

“Even in this weather. I’m surprised your balls didn’t freeze off. That would have been a goddamn Greek tragedy.”

“They’re still a little. If you can warm them up. It’ll keep you quiet for a while.”

“Kinky.” She laughs when he grabs hold of the bottom of her jeans; falling backward when he aggressively pulls her towards him. “You ARE eager.”

“Things are working. You said yourself, it’s been hit or miss. Well, right now it's a hit, so…” He yanks both the denim and her skimpy lace underwear over her hips and ass and down her legs. “...let’s not waste time. Just in case.”

“Aren’t you even going to wait? For me to get your surprise on?”

“Nope.” He shoves her thighs open. “Right now, I don’t care. We’ll do that later.”

“Two times in one day? Someone is feeling awful cocky.”

“It’s my cock that’s feeling something. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling it soon too.”

She opens her mouth to respond but quickly bites down on the bottom lip as he makes his way up her body; a mixture of calloused palms, the roughness of his beard, and the press of warm, soft lips. Thick fingers -with their various scars and misshapen knuckles- digging into the back of her thighs as he licks, sucks, and nibbles his way along the insides of her legs. And though disappointed when he ignores the most desperate and aching of parts, she still manages a giggle when he pulls her surgical steel navel ring into his mouth and lightly yanks at it with his teeth.

No one has ever worshipped her the way he does. The attention and focus he displays while paying homage to her body; the fire in her very bones and nerves growing in intensity with every swipe of his tongue and suckle of his lips and every caress and group of her hands. Selfless and never selfish, even when his own wants and needs are profound and overwhelming. Forever paying keen attention to the way she responds to him. Learning through every sigh and moan, every flinch and shiver, the differences in tone and pitch when she says his name. And somehow always knowing exactly what she needs.

By the time he reaches her lips, she’s desperate for so much more, nails raking across his shoulders and down his back, hips continuously rising to meet his in an unspoken request. When he finally kisses her, she moans into his mouth, and her hands find his hair; her fingers immediately tunnelling through the longer strands as she responds eagerly and hungrily. But when he pulls away to look down at her, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that she isn’t prepared for. An affection and adoration that softens his features and enables her to truly ‘see’ him for the first time. And suddenly, he seems far removed from the hardened and highly skilled mercenary that she had initially fallen in love with. Instead replaced by a previously broken and haunted man who’s in the midst of the most important transformation of his entire life.

The healing of both body AND mind.

“I love you.”

It brings tears to her eyes. The sincerity in those three simple, yet powerful words.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

The sob escapes her before she has the chance to bite it back, and she quickly finds herself gathered into strong arms and a broad chest. His body is warm and hard against hers, and his hands are steady yet comforting as they lovingly stroke her hair and repeatedly caress her back.

It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. Completely unlike anything she’s ever known or experienced. He’s reliable. Protective. Making her feel safe and secure in ways no one else ever has.

And in that moment, she’s sure of one thing. She’s never been loved like this, either.

*****

He feels sleepy and content as he lounges on the couch; his bad leg -once more sporting the knee brace- stretched out, foot resting on the coffee table. Both body and mind sated by a successful -if not disappointingly short- love making session that ended up more slow and tender than he’d originally anticipated. It had been followed by a hot shower and a surprisingly good meal that Esme had been incredibly proud of; a simple pasta and meat sauce dish paired with salad and garlic toast. Now he alternates between watching football and listening to his girlfriend as she busies herself in the kitchen. Lucy refusing to leave her side; more than pleased with the morsels of food she’d been slipped under the table. And with the seemingly endless amount of ear rubs and hair ruffles and chin scratches that are passed her way.

It’s the most relaxed he’s been in years. The warmth of the fire as snow trickles down outside, the rattling of dishes and silverware, and the way Esme alternates between humming as she works and talking to Lucy in a quiet, motherly way. The fear is starting to fade; the realization setting in that not only this is his life now, but he’s good with it. Not entirely accepting of the fact he’s retired; remaining somewhat concerned about where he goes -professional speaking- from here. But he feels safe and secure in the knowledge that knowing that Esme is under the same roof. Wanting and needing him. Loving him.

“I don’t have anything else, my love,” Esme addresses the dog sprawled out at her feet. “At least none of what you really want. Do you want a cookie? Auntie Nik got them just for you. I bet they’re delicious. Let’s get you a cookie.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her move across the room, her hair still loose and flowing and nearly reaching the middle of her back. Her tiny frame clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of the plaid shirts she’d poached from his side of the closet. And he finds himself amused by the way she has to stand on her tiptoes to get the container of dog biscuits off the second shelf in the cupboard.

“Tyler…”

“Yeah?”

“This d…o…g won’t stop eating.”

“Why did you spell that out?”

“Because I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her. It might give her a complex.”

“Your logic is…astounding.”

“Even animals have feelings. I mean, you’re the biggest one of all, and you’ve been all up in your feels lately.”

“Esme?”

She glances towards him.

Without looking away from the television, he holds up his right hand and flips her the middle finger.

“Well, that’s just rude, isn’t it Lucy? Just plain rude.”

“She’s a traitor. That’s your dog now. She’s made that perfectly clear. Hasn’t left your side since before dinner.”

“Well, if we want to get technical, she’s OUR dog now. But I’m sure she still loves you best. Daddy’s still your favourite, isn’t he? You could never love anyone the way you love him. I’ll let you in on a little secret; I feel the exact same way about him.”

He smiles. “You BOTH have horrible taste in men.”

“Excuse you? I’ll have you know that my taste in me is impeccable. Well, at least NOW it is. I didn’t have to kiss too many frogs before I got to my prince, but the ones I DID have to kiss? Ewwww.” Giving Lucy a final pet, she fills the kettle and plugs in it, completing her tidying of the kitchen and then making a coffee for him, a tea for herself. Starting her journey into the living room, she pauses by the front door; spotting the small cardboard box he’d set down earlier. “What’s this?”

He casts a glance in her direction. “Just some stuff from my old place. That Nik and Yaz packed up.”

“That’s all they brought?”

“That and some clothes.”

“Where’s the rest?”

“What rest? You saw my old place. What more was there for them to bring?”

“What’s in it?”

“Just some personal shit. From back in the day. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s really none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck. He really needs to pay more attention to the tone of his voice when speaking to her. He’s always been straight to the point; never dragging things out or sugar coating them. While it had suited him well in both military and mercenary life and had, it had unfortunately been one of the many issues that eventually sunk his marriage. Esme deserves better; she’s sensitive and feels and loves so deeply and profoundly. And, like her need to give and want affection, it’s yet another thing he needs to get used to. “I just meant that it’s nothing serious. I’d tell you if it was.”

She doesn’t pursue it. Either not as hurt at his reaction as he had thought she would be, or just deciding to pick her battles. But she greets him with a smile when she joins him, setting their mugs down on the coffee table and then accepting the hand he offers her and dropping down beside her.

Releasing her hand, he wraps his arm around her, he pulls her tightly against him, his hand resting on her hip as he presses a kiss to her temple. She smells so damn good; that mixture of coconut, honey, and milk that he’d first discovered in Dhaka and had been so enthralled. It’s simple and unassuming; a cheap shampoo that she’d found in a corner store in Prague just hours before Nik had brought her to Australia. And she’d been so taken aback by his genuine compliments about the scent, that she’d decided never to use anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches for the coffee and hands it to them, then picks up her tea. “For what?”

“I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded. When you asked about the box. It’s not it’s not your business. It’s just…” Shrugging, he sips at his drink. “...nothing you’d be interested in. Or at least, I don’t think you’d be.”

“I’m interested in YOU. In your life. Especially the one that came before me. I know it wasn’t a utopia by any stretch of the imagination, and you’ve been through some shit, but if you ever WANT to share, I’m good with it.”

“Same goes for you, yeah? If you ever just want to tell me about things? I don’t want you holding back because you think it’s going to piss me off. Even if hearing about your ex and the shit he did might make me feel homicidal.”

“And he’d deserve it. If you got a hold of him and broke every bone in his body.”

“I wouldn’t just stop there. I wouldn’t be able to. And a lot of places to stash him afterwards. Where no one would ever find him.”

“As much as I appreciate and love you for wanting to avenge me, I also don’t want to bring him into this. Into our life together. I don’t want him tarnishing things. Ruining them.”

“He could never do that.”

“Just some things really are better left in the past. Some of the things he did…” She chews on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “...I just can’t talk about those. And that’s not a personal slight against you. It’s not because I feel like I CAN’T you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know. But if you ever DO want to talk about things…”

“Believe, you’d be the first person…the ONLY person…I’d ever go to. I trust Nik and Yaz, but not in the same way I trust you. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I feel the same way about you.”

“You’re my person, Tyler. You’re the one I want to tell things to. Good AND bad. You’re the one I want to share things with. Whether it’s horror stories about my ex or stupid jokes that I’ve gathered up over the years, or things I hear or see when I’m out. I don’t feel that comfortable with anyone else. Not like I do with you.”

“Do you think maybe it has something to do with the fact I’m the one you get naked and do filthy fucking things with?”

“That could play a role,” she laughs, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

They settle into a comfortable, companionable silence, Lucy joining them and lying on the floor in front of the couch; watching the football game as they nurse their drinks, enjoying the warmth from the fire. He realizes that they’re in the midst of the ‘honeymoon phase’; everything seems to flow and co-exist so easily. Able to shut themselves away from the outside world; refusing to allow intrusive thoughts to penetrate the bubble they’ve built around themselves. They’re happy and comfortable; immersed in the ‘getting to know you stage’ outside of the intimate moments. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, their respective quirks and habits. It won’t always be this way. The charm will wear off; they’ll become easily annoyed and agitated as they both attempt to get used to sharing not only their space but their life, with another person.

When their mugs are empty, she places them on the coffee table and then stretches out on the couch. On her side with both arms wrapped around his thigh and her head in his lap.

“Is your team playing?”

His hand settles on her hip. “Yeah. The Western Bulldogs. They’re the ones with the red and blue shirts.”

“Are they winning?”

“By a pretty big margin, actually.”

“This doesn’t look like regular football. It’s nothing like the NFL. These guys are out there just killing each other. And as much as enjoy senseless violence from time to time…”

“This is Australian rules. Nothing like what you’re used to. This is the real deal. Not that wimpy crap they play where you’re from.”

“If we’re able to get sports from Australia, we might be able to get some hockey games. That would be nice. We could watch them together.”

“I don’t like hockey.”

“Have you ever seen a hockey game?”

“Once. That was enough.”

“Tell you what…” She rolls over onto her back “...if you’ll watch some hockey games and learn a bit about it, I’ll do the same with you and your football. Deal?”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”

“You’re going to have to teach me the rules, though. I know nothing about football. ANY kind of football.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already proven to be a pretty fast learner in other areas. I’m impressed with you.”

“Well, you happen to be an excellent teacher. Although I do have one complaint.”

Tyler frowns.

“Things worked so well, I am aching. I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk properly for a couple of days.”

“Just a couple? I’m insulted.”

“Next time, the number will be higher, I promise.”

“I may have been a little….hasty…when it came to going from start to finish.”

“It lasted longer than I thought it would, to be honest.”

“Excuse you?”

“I didn’t mean that as a cheap shot. And I’m already very familiar with your skills and your staying power. But think of everything you just went through; you were clinically dead nine months ago, AND you just spent three quarters of a year in the hospital. I know we’ve gotten up to other things, but we haven’t actually done THAT. Given the circumstances, you not lasting that long is to be expected.”

“I don’t know if any of your little speech made me feel any better. It’s embarrassing. I’m thirty-five years old and…”

“You’re thirty-six now. You had a birthday in the midst of everything.”

“That’s it, just go and make things worse. Add another year onto my life.”

“Listen…” Reaching up, she takes hold of his chin. “...there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you realize how close you were? To being six feet under? You shouldn’t even be here. A weaker man? They would have given up. They wouldn’t have fought their way back. And if one of the setbacks to surviving all that is to not last as long as you usually do, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“I’ve lasted longer than since I was fifteen years old.”

“And you’ll go back lasting longer again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I have a problem with it?”

“Not that I could tell. Or that you’re admitting.”

“I have absolutely zero complaints. Except for the whole not being able to walk or sit properly thing. You need to realize that things aren’t going to be like they were. Not for a while, anyway. You’ve come a long way and there’s an even longer way to go. Can’t you just be proud of yourself? For even getting out of that hospital?”

“I only did it for you. You’re the only reason I fought my way back. Why I busted my ass to get back on my feet. If you hadn’t been around…”

“But I WAS. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I knew you had a lot of fight left in you. And I know you’re tired and frustrated, and you think you should be further ahead, but you’re doing way better than anyone ever expected.”

“You expected it. You didn’t give up.”

“I know how strong you are. And I know you in ways all those other people don’t. Even Nik. I wasn’t abandoning you, Tyler. And I would have fought to the bitter end. Until there was some proof you weren’t going to come out of it. So THIS? This whole not lasting as long as normal? It’s actually a huge accomplishment, considering. Think of it that way.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“How do you always find the silver lining in everything? The glass is always half full to you. How…?”

“Because I know what I’ve survived. Not even my worst days come close to what Mark put me through. So guess I’ve just tried to turn my suffering into something positive. I’ve learned to look at the world in a different way.”

“Personally, I think you’re just some kind of freak.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, though. As weird as you are.”

“Admit it, my weirdness was one of the things you found adorable and appealing.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I’ve just learned to accept it and live with it.”

“Well, for what it’s worth? I love YOU. You enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but…”

“Did I say it was up for debate? Did I say you could question things? No. So just…” She places a hand over his mouth. “...shhhh. Stop asking why and stop doubting what you’re worthy of, and just go with it. Can you do that? Just accept it and go with it?”

“I can try.”

“You better,” she warns and then turns her face towards him, her nose pressing into his stomach and her eyes closing. The events of the morning and afternoon quickly catching up to her: the relief that came with finally leaving the hospital, the long flight that had followed, and the drive to the cabin that represented the last leg of their trip to freedom. And then the sex; that effortless transition from hungry, desperate, and impatient to something much more tender and attentive.

Now she’s finally able to relish in the aftermath. Enjoying the hardness of his body and that warmth that radiates from it, his familiar smell and the beat of his heart deep within. Issuing a long, content sigh when one of those enormous, calloused hands is placed upon her cheek; his fingertips softly stroking her forehead while his thumb makes continuous sweeps across her cheek. And just as she begins to feel herself teetering on the edge of sleep, she feels him move against her; the slight shift of his body and the couch cushions as he reaches for the throw on the back of the couch and proceeds to drape it over her. What follows is such a simple, sweet display of care and adoration. A smile playing on her lips as this man -so big and so strong and capable of inflicting so much harm- ever so tenderly tucks and secures the fabric under and around her.

From that moment, she loses all track of time. The stroking of her cheek eventually ceases; his arm becomes limp, and his hand comes to rest upon her hip as sleep finally claims him. His soft snoring and deep rhythmic breathing joining the rattling of the windows as the wind and the snow continue to rage beyond the cabin’s four walls.

*****

When she wakes, it’s to the crackle of the fire and Lucy’s loud snoring, the cattle dog somehow managing to find enough space on the sofa. Rolling onto her back, she gives a loud yawn and a long, languorous stretch. Rapidly blinking her eyes when she’s greeted by the unexpected glow of the couch side lamp.

She watches Tyler in silence. Still in the same spot as when she’d fallen asleep, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he devotes his focus and attention to a game on his cell phone. And it isn’t until she lightly tickles his stomach that he acknowledges her, greeting her with a soft smile as he uses gentle fingertips to clear strands away off her forehead and out of her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sleep alright?”

Esme nods. “Guess I was just way too warm and cozy. Did you?”

“It was an okay nap. I kinda freaked out a bit, though. When I woke up. I didn’t even remember coming here. I thought I was still in the hospital. So when I didn’t recognize anything…”

“You spent three-quarters of a year there. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have moments like that. Eventually, they’ll go away. Once you get used to being here.”

“Once I realized that you, were YOU, I was alright. I knew I was in a safe place. That everything was going to be okay.”

It’s so sincere and genuine….so unexpected… that it causes a lump of emotion to sit square in her throat. She’s never known anyone quite like him, the strong, silent type that usually doesn’t have much to say, but makes an enormous impact when he does speak. He hides nothing from her. Open and transparent from the beginning of those five days in Dhaka, not just with words, but with facial expressions and body language. Both of them -despite their painful pasts and respective, albeit different, losses- somehow finding a level of trust in one another that neither had experienced before.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re feeling okay? You’ve had enough to eat? You don’t have too much pain? You…”

“Are you really going to do this as soon as you get up? Start worrying?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. It’s who I am. You should be used to it by now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “Would you?”

“I’ve already promised I would. About a million times already. I’m fine, Esme. I mean, other than the fact my left leg and my ass are completely asleep.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.” She attempts to sit up, laughing when a broad, strong forearm prevents her. “You didn’t have to stay here. You could have moved me.”

“I didn’t have the heart to do it. You looked way too cute, lying there like that. You snore, by the way.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do. You snore AND talk in your sleep.”

“Did I say anything interesting?”

“You didn’t incriminate yourself in any crimes if that’s what you mean. You did make a grocery list, though. Toilet paper, milk, ketchup, and cat litter.”

“Bullshit. You’re making that up.”

“I’m telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

“You were NEVER a scout. Who are you kidding?”

“But you did make a grocery list. And those are the things you mentioned. I have no idea where the cat litter comes into play, but…”

“Maybe that was a hint. That we should get a cat.”

“I don’t like cats.”

“How can you not like cats? They’re cute, and they’re furry, and they purr and make biscuits on you. How can you not be into that sort of thing?”

“They smell funny.”

“This coming from a guy that lets chickens freely roam the house. And sleep in the bed!”

“We are NOT getting a cat.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“Please? You won’t even know it’s here. I’ll do all the feeding and the cleaning up and…”

“I don’t want a cat. I’m not a cat guy. Do I look like one to you?”

“Please, you like pussy more than anyone I know.”

“Not that kind, I don’t.”

“I’ll break you. I’ll wear you down. I will get my cat.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’d never go through with. You’d miss me too much.”

“Like a hemorrhoid.” She squeals when he slides a hand between her and the couch and aggressively pinches her ass, then playfully shoves him away and sits up; hands smoothing over her hair and fixing her ponytail. “I have some bad news, by the way.”

“Color me surprised.”

“We have to leave the house sooner than I thought. We need to go into town. Grab a few things.”

“Ketchup, ass tissue, and cat litter?”

“Ice cream. And chocolate. My period is coming soon.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t wonder why I’m suddenly bitchy and bleeding out of my vagina?”

“You’re always bitchy. And you like things rough. Anything can go wrong when you’re…”

“And firewood. We need firewood. Track down some of the pre-cut, bagged stuff. There’s not enough on the porch to even last even a couple of days. It’s how we heat this place, so…”

“Have you taken a look outside? We are surrounded by trees. Which is where firewood comes from. And I already saw an axe out on the front porch.”

“You have one good arm.”

“Which is more than enough to chop firewood. I mean, it’ll take a lot longer than if I had TWO good arms, but…”

“And you have one good leg. You’re going to hurt yourself. Chop your foot off or something. I could always do it. I know how to use an axe.”

“You can lift an axe?”

“Well, maybe not a normal-size one. But a little one.”

“You mean a hatchet?”

“It’s technically a little axe, right? I mean, it’ll take me a couple of days to make any sort of headway, but…”

“And you worry about me hurting myself? I’m just supposed to be okay with you wielding a hatchet? I mean, if you want to do it that badly, you can just come out and help me. Make sure I don’t fuck things up.”

“Oh, right. And then when I annoy you, you’ll chop me into a million pieces and throw me in the woods!”

“I would never chop you up and throw you in the woods.”

“Aww, you big softy. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself; if I wasn’t around anymore. You’d…”

“I’d chop you up and feed you to the dog.”

At the end of the couch, Lucy briefly raises her head, tilting it from side to side before issuing a heavy sigh and returning to her original position.

“You’re an asshole,” Esme grumbles, laughing when she tries to stand but quickly finds two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her back down.

“I'll tell you what, because I don’t want you worrying so much, we will go into town and find bagged firewood.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get enough to last at least a couple of weeks. But once it runs out, you gotta give me a chance, yeah? To try and do things? Because I’m going to go completely fucking nuts doing nothing but sitting on my ass all day.”

“There’s lots of things for you to do. You can go on walks, you can ice fish, you can learn to knit, like Yaz said.”

“Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to get any better by not testing the limits. You need to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I worry about you. I’ve spent nine months taking care of you. In some way or another. And it makes me really nervous; when I think about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Don’t think about those things, then,”

“Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I WILL try. To not worry so much.”

“Thank you.”

Slipping out of his embrace, she climbs into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck and placing her head on his shoulder. And her eyes close as she enjoys both his scent and touch, large hands slipping up the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips repeatedly travelling up and down her spine.

“By the way…” His voice rumbles deep within his chest. “...I’d never do anything horrible to you. Not even remotely.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “I know.”

“Also, I’m ready for my surprise.”

“Jesus…”

“Listen, you said the ‘p word’. That was the trigger.”

Laughing, she pulls back to look at him, fingertips tracing the scar that curves over the bridge of her nose. “You’re like a horny fifteen-year-old stuck in a grown man’s body.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for. Nine months. That’s…”

“A long ass time.”

“I don’t know old timer,” she teases, and playfully ruffles his hair. “Think you can keep up with a youngin’ like me.”

“I don’t know.” One hand slips between them to gently cup her breast, and he feels her shiver against him when his thumb brushes over her nipple. “But I can’t try.”

[comfortjoonie]

Hey hey :)

Can you please do something with Joon getting Appendicitis? Like while they're recording Namjoons got a stomachache and nobody really thinks much of it but then he throws up and they go back to the dorm to look after him but then it exalates and he has to got the hospital?

anon this is nearly 3000 words long! sorry it is so long! i really enjoyed writing this one <3333

Also just to preface this may not be medically accurate! This is based off my limited knowledge & my experience in surgery when i had a broken rib. sorry for any inaccuracies.

TW: Medically inaccurate, surgery, vomit, etc

“Hyung?”  Jungkook’s voice causes Namjoon to set down his water bottle.  “You okay?”  Namjoon instinctively nods.

“Fine.”  He tries not to wince as what feels like the hundredth hard cramp hits his lower stomach.  “Why?”

“You just look kind of…I don’t know.  In pain?” Jungkook asks. 

“Oh.  Well, I’m not.”  Namjoon stands up from the couch in the break room, but regrets it and doubles over, putting a hand on his stomach.  He’s been feeling this way for nearly two days now.  It just started as a small bit of pain, but it’s increased by so much that it’s hard to sleep and walk.  He can’t let anyone know, though.

“Hyung?”

“Fine, Jungkook.  I’m fine.  Just a little stomach ache.”  Namjoon straightens up and runs a hand through his hair.

“Are you nervous?” Jungkook asks.

“No.  I told you, I’m alright,” Namjoon says again.  “I’ll just drink some water or something.  The others are gonna be here soon and we’re gonna start recording.”

Jungkook bites his lower lip.  “You look bad, hyung.  You’re sweating.”

Namjoon wipes his face dry with his shirt.  “No need to worry, Jungkook.  I’ll be fine.”  Jungkook opens his mouth again, but he’s cut off when the other five members come through the door.

“Hey, guys,” Hoseok smiles.  

“Hi,” Jungkook and Namjoon say in unison.

“Everything alright?” Seokjin says.

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, but everyone can sense the tension in the room.  “I’m gonna go to the bathroom quickly.”

“But hyung, the director’s gonna be here soon –” Jimin says.

“--I said quickly.  I’ll be back in less than a minute.”  Namjoon leaves the break room and closes it behind him.  All eyes turn to Jungkook.

“What’s going on with him?” Seokjin asks to the youngest.

“W-what do you mean?” Jungkook asks nervously.  He doesn’t want to make Namjoon mad by telling the others he isn’t feeling well.”

“He looks weird.  Did you guys get in a fight?” Seokjin asks, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“Uh…no.  He just said he has a stomach ache.  But he looked really bad.  He was sweating a lot,” Jungkook spills, and instantly feels bad.  He expects everyone to be as worried as he is, but instead Yoongi just smiles.

“You don’t need to worry so much, Jungkook.  It’s not a big deal, you know.  He’ll be alright.” 

Jungkook nods.  “Yeah.  I know, I just don’t like seeing him in pain.”

Seokjin pats his shoulder.  “He’s fine, Jungkook.  You know Namjoon.  He’s probably just nervous.”

Namjoon comes through the door, looking pale.

“All good?” Hoseok asks.

“Yep,” Namjoon says, briskly walking over to the couch and sitting down next to Jungkook.  He’d spent the last minute washing his face with cold water and drinking as much water as he could.  It didn’t help; it just made his stomach hurt worse.  The pain was moving to his right side and it was getting sharper.  

The recording director walked through the door and smiled at the members.  “Ready?”

–

Namjoon was once again standing next to Jungkook during the recording session, but this time with Seokjin on the other side of him.  Jungkook kept glancing over at Namjoon, seeing him beginning to sweat more and breathe a little shallower.  He looks nauseated too, turning paler and swallowing constantly.  But he’s still pushing through and rapping somehow.  If Namjoon feels as bad as he looks, Jungkook can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to act normal.  Jungkook doesn’t know anyone who can power through like Namjoon can.

When the director stops Namjoon halfway through his verse, everyone turns to him.  Namjoon swallows.

“Namjoon, are you alright?” The director asks. 

“Of course,” Namjoon confirms, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“You need to work on your enunciation.”

“Right,” Namjoon says, taking a deep breath.  “Sorry.”  Jungkook makes eye contact with Seokjin, who is starting to look concerned as well. 

“Can you just come back to me?  I just…”

Namjoon can barely speak through the intense nausea he’s feeling.  “I…”  Before anyone can say anything, he’s bending over and gagging violently, bringing up all the excessive amount of water he drank.  He coughs and moans softly.  All six members rush over to him, Yoongi rubbing his back in circles.

“Sorry – I just –” Namjoon gags again, gasping for breath.  “Just need–”  He coughs.  “--one minute–”  He crosses his arms over his stomach.

“This is really bad, Joon,” Hoseok says.  “You need to get home.”

The director comes into the recording booth and quickly tells them they can go home.  Namjoon is definitely not okay.  But he still protests: “Wait–I can clean that–”

“No, Joonie, you’re going home.  The janitor will take care of it,” Hoseok says.

“But–”

“Come on.”  Hoseok pulls Namjoon upright and wraps his arm around his shoulder.  “I’ll drive you back to the dorm, okay?”  Namjoon silently nods.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, go take the car in the lower lot, alright?  We’ll take the car on the street,” Seokjin instructs.  The maknaes nod, all of them looking equally shocked and worried.  They head off to the lot, and Namjoon and his hyungs go to the car parked on the street.  Namjoon rests his head on Yoongi’s lap for the short ten minute drive back to the dorms, and when they arrive, the maknaes are already there.  Namjoon can still feel the sharp pain coming in intervals on his right side, but it’s starting to get worse.  Every breath he takes agitates it, and every small move he makes sends a burning pain throughout his lower stomach.

As soon as Namjoon is inside the dorms, he’s rushing to the bathroom to vomit again.  Jungkook holds his hair while Yoongi rubs his back and Seokjin wets a towel with cold water.  Yoongi can already feel the leader’s fever getting worse by the minute.  More than that, Namjoon seems to be unable to catch a break from the vomiting.  Every time he stops, he starts again 30 seconds later.  

“God, Namjoon, what did you eat?” Yoongi asks after at least ten minutes of this.

“Last night?” Namjoon coughs.

“Anytime in the last two days.”  Seokjin removes the cold towel from the back of Namjoon’s neck.  It’s warm now, so he starts running it under cold water again.

“I have no idea,” Namjoon whispers, wiping the sweat from his brow.  “Just whatever Seokjin-hyung cooked for me.”  Yoongi turns to Seokjin.

“Nothing special,” Seokjin replies.  “Beef, rice, chicken, seaweed, eggs, noodles…nothing that could have caused this.”  Namjoon groans in pain at the new burning sensation in his side.  Jungkook wipes Namjoon’s mouth with toilet paper and flushes it down the toilet.

“Who were you around, hyung?” Jungkook asks.

“No one who was sick.  Jackson, you guys, and some friends from college.  That’s it,” Namjoon rasps out.

“You probably just got it randomly, then.  You’ll be fine,” Seokjin says.  “Ready to go to your bed?”  Namjoon shakes his head.

“Too far,” he groans again.

“Couch, then?” Namjoon nods and Jungkook helps him up.  Namjoon whines in pain at first and tries not to cry at the pain as he walks over to the couch and lies down.  The rest of the members are waiting there for him, all on their phones on the different chairs around the room.  Namjoon is breaking out in heavy sweats again, but he feels freezing cold.

“We need to get you some food, Joonie.  And your temperature,” Yoongi says.  “Taehyung, get some rice for him.”  Taehyung looks terrified.  

“Hyung, he looks like he’s about to die.  He needs the hospital,” Hoseok says.

Yoongi looks down at Namjoon.  He looks awful.  His eyes are squeezed shut and his breathing is uneven.  He’s pale, shaking, and drenched in sweat.  “Just…try to get some food in him,” Yoongi says.  “I’ll go grab the thermometer.”

Taehyung nods reluctantly and leaves to the kitchen while Yoongi heads to the linen closet.  Seokjin sits beside Namjoon, putting the younger’s head in his lap and feeling his forehead.

“Namjoonie, you’re burning up.  We need to get your shirt off or you’ll pass out from the fever.”  Namjoon shakes his head.

“I’m freezing, hyung,” he insists, but Seokjin insists.

“You’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt.  At least let us put you in a tank top, Joonie,” he says, and Namjoon shakes his head again.

“We don’t know what to do, hyung.  If you won’t put on a tank top, you have to eat something so we can give you a fever reducer,” Jimin says.  Namjoon’s stomach churns at the thought of swallowing anything.

“Too nauseous.”

“Then we’ll take your shirt off and put you in a tank top.”

“Too cold.”

Seokjin sighs, trying not to get frustrated.  Namjoon is so stubborn when he’s sick.  But he doesn’t want to raise his voice or get forceful with Namjoon.  He’s sensitive when he has a fever, and making him cry would definitely make him throw up again.  “I just don’t know what to do with you, Joonie.”  Namjoon opens his teary eyes and wipes them.

“Me neither,” Namjoon whispers.  Seokjin moves his hand down to Namjoon’s shirt to try and at least lift it up a little, but Namjoon cries out in pain when Seokjin’s hand accidentally bumps into Namjoon’s right side.

“Ah!  Hyung, stop, stop, stop–”

“--sorry, sorry.  It hurts?”

Namjoon nods, his eyes welling up with tears again.  Seokjin cards his hand through Namjoon’s hair and sighs.  “I don’t know what to do with you,” he says again.  

Yoongi returns with the thermometer in his hand.  “Sorry it took so long.  I couldn’t find it.”  He squats down in front of the couch and runs the thermometer along Namjoon’s head.  “Damn,” he whispers.  “102.  We need to get you eating something so we can give you some medicine.”

Taehyung and Jungkook walk back into the living room with a bowl of white rice and chopsticks, putting both in Seokjin’s hands.  He grabs a small bite of rice and puts it in Namjoon’s mouth.  Namjoon chews and swallows, but again starts gagging only three seconds later.  Seokjin sighs, rubbing Namjoon’s back as Jimin rushes to the kitchen and comes back with a metal bowl.  Namjoon exhaustedly vomits the rice back up into the bowl.  He’s empty, but he keeps gagging.  Jungkook and Hoseok exchange a glance, both of them thinking the same thing.  Namjoon needs the hospital.  

Namjoon feels like he can barely breathe through the searing pain.  Hot tears run down his face and the nausea fades out.  He tries to sob as quietly as possible, covering his face with his hands.  The pain feels like nothing he’s ever felt.

“Shh, Namjoonie, calm down,” Seokjin says.  “You’re okay.  It’s ok.”

“Hyung, I can’t watch this anymore,” Jungkook says.  “We need to take him to the hospital, now.”  Seokjin sighs.

“Why are you crying, Namjoon?” Seokjin asks.

“Hurts, my stomach hurts,” Namjoon sobs.

“Where?” Hoseok asks, but Namjoon can’t speak through the sobs.  Hoseok presses down on Namjoon’s upper stomach.  “Here?”  Namjoon shakes his head.  Hoseok moves his hand down to Namjoon’s lower right stomach and presses.  Namjoon screams in pain,

“Stop!  Hyung!”  Namjoon’s whole body shakes in pain and his vision goes black for a moment before he regains it.  He can barely think through the pain.

“I’m sorry, Joonie,” Hoseok says, “But we need to take you to the hospital.”

“It’s his appendix, right?” Jungkook asks.  “He needs an ambulance.”

Namjoon doesn’t even have the energy to protest.  His vision is getting dark, and his hearing is muffled from the pain.  He’s barely conscious as he hears Yoongi talking on the phone, then a few minutes later the sound of a siren and the main door being opened.  He’s lifted onto a stretcher by paramedics, tears still running down his cheeks and Seokjin holding his hand.  Yoongi and Seokjin sit in the seats on the side of the ambulance and the doors shut behind them.  An oxygen mask is placed over Namjoon’s mouth and he’s instructed to breathe slowly and deeply.  But the pain makes it too hard, and tears continue to run down his face.  

“It is probably his appendix,” a paramedic says, taking Namjoon’s temperature.  “Temperature’s 102.3,” he says to the other medic.

“I had appendicitis and it wasn’t even close to this,” Yoongi said.  “And he has a higher pain tolerance than me.”

“You probably caught it early.  It was less severe than this,” the paramedic responded.

“But he just said he had a small stomach ache today?” Yoongi says.

“He probably just didn’t want to concern you,” the paramedic says, and Yoongi’s heart sinks.  How could he not notice?  “Namjoon?  How long have you been feeling bad?” the paramedic asks, placing a stethoscope on Namjoon’s chest.  “Heart rate’s 110,” he says to the other medic, who writes it down on a notepad. 

“Two days,” Namjoon chokes out.  Seokjin’s jaw drops.

“Two days?  Joonie…” Seokjin wipes the tears off Namjoon’s cheeks.  “You must 

have been in so much pain.”  Yoongi blows out a sigh.

“Is there anything you can do for him?” he asks.

“We’ll see what the doctors say.”

—-

Namjoon nearly passes out from the pain of being moved into the CT machine, then into a wheelchair and into a private room.  The nurses tell him it’ll be just fifteen minutes until his results come back.  An IV is put in his arm with pain medication and a warm blanket is placed over him.  Seokjin sits on the other side of the room with head in his hand, talking on the phone frustratedly to the managers.  Yoongi holds Namjoon’s hand and uses a cold cloth to wipe his sweaty face.

Namjoon’s able to think clearly after ten minutes or so of the pain medication.  His eyes hurt from the crying and he feels completely empty.

“Better?” Yoongi whispers.

“Yeah,” Namjoon says softly.  “I’m sorry, hyung.”

“What for?” Yoongi squeezes Namjoon’s hand.

“Stressing you out.  Making you bring me here,” Namjoon sniffles.

“It’s fine, Joonie.  You didn’t make us do anything.  We want to be here.”  Namjoon looks at Jin.  He’s off the phone now, smiling at Namjoon.

“No you don’t,” Namjoon whispers.

“Of course we do.  There’s nothing more we want than to be here with you,” Jin says.  Namjoon just shakes his head and looks down.

The doctor knocks on the door and comes into the room, facing Namjoon with a clipboard.  “How are we?”  He doesn’t wait for a response.  “I really hate to break this to you, but unfortunately, it is your appendix.  It’s very acute.  It’s about to burst, and you need emergency surgery.”

Yoongi frowns. “We can’t wait another hour or so?  The rest of us are still–”

“No, unfortunately, like I said, we really need to do this now,” the doctor says.  A group of nurses come into the room.  One of them removes Namjoon’s IV from the tube connecting to the bag and another unbrakes his bed and moves the top part all the way down.  “It’ll just be an hour or so and you can both meet him in recovery.”  Namjoon looks scared, but Yoongi smiles at him.

“You’ll be fine, Joonie.  We’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Don’t leave the hospital,” Namjoon says.

“We won’t, I promise.”

—-----

Namjoon wakes up feeling strange.  His entire stomach and right side is completely numb and he’s warm all over.  His mouth is dry and his throat is sore.  His eyes are heavy.  He feels nauseous.  

“Wh…” Namjoon whispers.  He looks around and sees another patient twenty feet away from him.  A team of nurses surround him.

“All good.  We can take him to his room,” says a female doctor.  “You’re in the recovery ward, Namjoon.  We’ll take you to your room now.  Everyone is waiting.”

Namjoon feels his bed move and he shuts his eyes.  When he opens them again, he’s in a room, surrounded by his members.  

“Namjoonie,” he hears Hoseok say softly, petting his hair.  “You did so good.  Everything went well.”

“Th-the surgery?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responds.  “They’ll discharge you in five hours.  And they’ll ask you to get up in three.”

“I can’t feel my stomach,” Namjoon says.  “I’m thirsty.”

“You can’t drink yet, Namjoon,” Seokjin says.  “Just wait a little.”

Namjoon rubs his eyes.

“Do you want to watch a movie?  Jungkook brought his laptop,” Jimin says.  Namjoon nods.  “What sounds good?”

“Anything is fine,” Namjoon says.  

Jungkook turns on a romance movie, but before the opening credits even end, Namjoon is asleep again.

“He had me worried to death,” Seokjin says.

“Me too,” Yoongi says.  “I can’t stand seeing him like that…in so much pain.”

“He’s okay now.  He’ll be okay,” Hoseok says.  “Just…let him rest.  And when he wakes up, we’ll figure it out from there.”

“...I just feel so bad for him,” Seokjin sighs.

“It’s going to be okay.  He’ll feel even better when he wakes up again.  And we’ll just take this day by day, until he’s all the way better.  One day at a time.  He’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Seokjin smiles.  “Thank you, Hobi.”

hope you guys enjoyed! as always let me know what you think!