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sunshine-daisies-library · 4 months

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emergency contact | calum hood x fem!reader

FUCK this took so long and took so many twists and turns but i have finished lads

summary: you end up in the hospital after an accident, only to find that your emergency contact number hadn’t been updated. you are yet to find out if it’s a blessing or a curse.

word count: 8.9k

warnings: self doubt, talking down about oneself, she/her pronoun usage, swearing, breakups, angst, drinking, car accident, hospital mentions, injury mentions, mentions of weed, partying, fighting

author's note: it might be rushed at the end and there's no set timeline of events, so it might not align with the true events IRL.

i also would like to say that we support girls here! no hate toward anyone, girls support girls!

In defense of yourself, you hadn’t expected to be back in Los Angeles so soon. Nor had you anticipated an accident like this to update your contacts on your phone. It was on the back of your mind, yes, but you had intended to change your emergency contact list on your phone for events like these. It was something you’d remind yourself occasionally, only to push it off for the next day, then the next day, then forget about it altogether.

And perhaps you were too cowardly to change the list. You didn’t admit this to another soul since it had been nearly a year since the two of you broke things off. Your friends time and time again had persuaded you to put yourself back on the market, to get over the musician. But how could you? You had dedicated the best years of your life to him, nearly six of them. You thought you were going to marry the man, but life had other plans.

That being said, you still loved him. The small act of removing him off your emergency contacts list felt so final to you. Like that was the end of your sad little love story with him. Truth be told, it was the end. It was the end from the moment you broke things off with him. You were just too stubborn to admit that to yourself.

It was your doing, wasn’t it? You were the one to tell him it was over. He had just gotten back home from their tour and went to greet you with open arms. You had been wretched enough to deny him that, pulling away immediately. You ignored his eyes when you told him you were tired of your lifestyle. Of waiting on him like a dog for him to come back from tour. Of relishing that one month of being together like it was the last thing on earth, only for him to leave once again for tours or writing retreats.

And most of all, you were tired of not feeling enough for him. In the world of popular and beautiful stars, why did he stay with you? Calum never made you feel so ordinary, not on purpose, at least. You had nothing to offer him other than your love. You feared that wouldn’t be enough in the end. The more years that passed, and the closer the possibility of marriage became, you thought it would be better to let go of him first before he ended up resenting you for not choosing someone better when he had the chance.

You didn’t listen to his pleas for you to stay. Or his professions of love for you, or how his promise to leave the band entirely if it meant you staying. You felt so cruel to let someone who loved you so much go so easily. He was willing to give up his music for you, so how could you ever claim that you were second best to his music?

But that was the very thing, you were afraid. He loved you so much that he was willing to let his entire life go for you. You couldn’t let him do that to himself, to let go of his happiness. But you had enough self dignity to know that you deserved more out of life than waiting in an empty home to fill up again.

—

Calum wasn’t sure what to make of the phone call he received just a moment ago. He never thought he’d hear your name again, much less be summoned to the hospital to see you.

“Mate, why are you still here?” Ashton asked, tucking away his drumsticks. “The nurse called you a half hour ago. Aren’t you going to see her?”

“I don’t know,” Calum uttered truthfully. “It’s been so long since I last saw her. It was probably a mistake, right? Why would they call me up?”

Michael rolled his eyes from the couch where he was tuning his guitar. “Because you’re still down as her emergency contact,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Calum deadpanned. “I mean, why would they call me and not her parents or something? Or her new boyfriend,” he muttered under his breath.

Luke approached the group from the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair. “Easy there, tiger,” he teased, grasping Calum’s shoulders from behind. “One might assume you’re jealous.” The youngest of the group quickly dodged the bassist’s shove, laughing while doing so. “To calm your worries, no, she doesn’t have a new boy in her life. And her parents moved to the east coast three months ago so they can’t come over.”

“Well aren’t you the stalker,” Ashton snickered.

Luke shot the drummer a glare. “I’m not a stalker,” Luke defended himself. “In case you actually wanted to know, I still keep contact with y/n. At least Sierra does for the most part. Though, last time I heard she was in Boston.”

“Boston,” Calum spoke up in confusion. “What’s she in Boston for? And how did she end up here?”

Luke clicked his tongue, a knowing look on his face. “If you want to know, you can ask her yourself,” he sang in an annoying tone.

Michael set his guitar down and stood up in defense of his friend. “While that’s true,” he began. “What about..you know?”

“What about “you know?”” Ashton piped up. “There’s no harm in Calum going. She could really be hurt and need someone with her. If what Luke said is true and you’re the only nearby emergency contact, it’s better safe than sorry that you go to her.”

The boys shared a look with each other. In their heart of hearts they knew it was a bad idea to let Calum go, especially after everything that had happened. But a selfish part of them wanted their best friend back, so what harm was in that notion?

“I’ll go,” Calum finally relented. “But she’s coming with me.”

–

When Calum arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The doctor explained it was a car accident, and although you were recovering okay you still had to be observed after minor surgery. A part of Calum’s heartstrings tugged at the thought of you alone and afraid during the accident, thinking he could have done something if you hadn’t broken things off, but he pushed that feeling down. It’s been a year; you’ve probably gotten over him and he’s started a new chapter of his life without you.

Calum followed the nurse to the recovery room where you were still unconscious. At the sight of you, he instantly lost all air in his lungs. Frozen, the bassist stood before you with a mix of emotions flooding through his face.

It was as though you were entirely different but still the same in some way. Your face, albeit bruised, looked more peaceful than Calum had seen of you. Hell, even before you broke things off you always had a furrowed brow or frown of some sort. It broke Calum’s heart to know that he was the cause of that stress.

Calum sat down beside you, instantly grasping your hand like second nature. It was just as soft as he could remember, and your nail polish was chipped and stained the skin surrounding it. Calum chuckled to himself, a tearful smile on his face. He knew your nail polish was your own doing, seeing as you had always asked him to paint your nails since he had “more precision.”

“Oh y/n,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “What the hell did you get yourself into now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Calum jerked back to see your eyes staring back at him. “Hi, stranger,” you managed to crack a smile. “What brings you to this hospital?”

Calum choked out a laugh, his thumb grazing against the top of your hand. “Oh you know me,” he said. “Always hanging around these parts whenever I get the chance.”

“You idiot,” you snorted, shaking your head and wincing in pain.

“Easy now,” Calum reached over to cup your cheek. “The doctor said you have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle, but nothing a bit of rest can’t fix.”

Your hand met his on your face, instantly warming to his touch like nothing had changed between the two of you. “Why are you here, Hood?” you asked curiously.

“You tell me.” Calum pulled out his phone and showed his past calls list. “I got a call from the hospital saying I was your emergency contact.”

You dropped his hand and covered your face in embarrassment. If your headache wasn’t killing you, the sheer embarrassment was. “Oh my God,” you groaned. “I’m so sorry, Calum. I had meant to change it but I never got the chance and–”

“It’s alright,” Calum calmed you down. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. If anything, this gave us a great opportunity to reconnect and catch up on things. It’s been what, a year?”

One year, three months, twenty eight days, and twelve and a half hours, the both of you thought subconsciously. But who’s counting?

The both of you were. Clearly.

“Something like that,” you lied smoothly. “How are you? How are the boys? I’ve kept contact with Crys and Sierra, but I haven’t had a chance to meet with them both. I was actually planning on shooting them a text as soon as I landed here, but obviously I haven’t had the chance.”

Calum laughed at your blunt humor. He missed that a lot about you. “I’m alright,” he replied. “The boys are great, too. They send their love, by the way. We’ve been cooped up at the studio writing and producing music, though you probably expected that from us.”

Ouch. Was that a dig toward why you broke up with him? “Naturally,” you grinned. “Do I make a special feature in this album? The trashy ex that broke up with the bassist as soon as the tour ended? You best get back to the studio, I’m sure this whole debacle has given you something to write about.”

“You are far from trashy,” Calum countered, continuing the light banter. “And I’m not going to throw your dirty laundry out like that, I have some taste, you know.”

“Oh come on,” you pressed. “That hoe called me back, gave me a heart attack,” you sang terribly, making Calum cover his ears. “Oh yeah she broke my heart, that’s not even the start-”

“Oi, quit that!” he laughed. “Leave the songwriting to me because good God that was terrible. Any more of that and you’d put me in the hospital bed next to you. And please do not call yourself a hoe. That’s worse than Luke calling Ash “daddy.””

Once your laughter had died down and you ran out of lyrics to spew, a comfortable silence filled the room. His chocolate brown eyes rested down at your joined hands.

“Thank you, by the way,” you spoke to break the silence. “For coming. You didn’t have to do that.”

“For my trashy ex?” he teased, a smirk dancing along his lips. “I’d do anything.”

God why did you break up with him? He was perfect, still is. Why does he still tug at your heartstrings and make you weak with one smile. How could you still feel this way after a whole year? Do you still love him-

“Babe, there you are! This place is a maze, I could barely understand the nurse’s directions.”

You turned your head so fast, you nearly got whiplash again. Standing before you was a beautiful girl with the most luxurious beach waves and tan that every girl dreamed of.

She bent down to kiss Calum’s cheek swiftly, making your breath hitch without you realizing. The girl smiled at you, taking your hand -that Calum instantly dropped at the sound of her voice- and squeezing it. “You must be y/n,” she concluded cheerfully. “I’m Tia, Calum’s friend.”

–

“They are so not friends,” you grumbled to your friends, days after the initial encounter.

Your friends chuckled at your gray demeanor, each of them taking sips of their coffee or bites of their breakfast. After being discharged from the hospital, the band and their significant others thought it would be perfect to catch up with you during brunch. You had agreed, eager to learn about everything you missed, especially the new couple.

“You’d be right and wrong, n/n,” Michael replied, setting his mug down. The group was significantly more relaxed to talk about the subject considering Tia needed to take a phone call and Calum insisted on accompanying her. “The way they’re friends isn’t the same as how he’s friends with us–”

“Speak for yourself, baby, Calum keeps my bed warm whenever Sierra’s out,” Luke teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Sierra rolled her eyes playfully, elbowing him in the ribs.

“And Luke keeps mine warm when they’re both gone,” Ashton chimed in without missing a beat.

Michael sent the youngest and oldest members a glare before continuing. “As I was saying,” he huffed exasperatedly. “They’re in the weird phase between friends and dating. They met a little after the tour and were friends for a while. It was Tia that made the move on Calum, like, two months ago.”

Noticing the stark difference in your facial expressions after hearing Michael’s explanation, Crystal came in to quickly finish the story. “He hasn’t confirmed or denied anything, but they have been on a few dates. He’s taking it very slowly.”

“That’s..nice to hear,” you slowly began. “But the more I hear about her, the more guilty I feel about feeling this way.” Your shoulders caved in as your friends shared a concerned look. “She seems sweet, and Calum and I are old news. It was my own decision to break things off in the first place.”

Sierra reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Why did you break things off with him?” she asked in a quieter voice.

You couldn’t help but notice how the rest of the group leaned in to hear your answer. “You mean Calum didn’t tell you?” you inquired the boys.

“He just said it was mutual,” Ashton raised his hands up in defense. “I didn’t know you broke it off with him.”

“Why didn’t you tell us she broke up with Cal?” Luke whisper-shouted to his partner.

Sierra only shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you knew,” she responded, her hands grasping around her mug as she took a sip.

“No one knew,” you settled. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

The group let out shouts of disapproval that were instantly quieted once Calum finally returned and took a seat. “What’s the fuss about?” he asked curiously.

You shook your head, taking an overly healthy sip of your mimosa. “Oh you know,” you sighed. “Typical group shenanigans, as per usual.”

“What kind-?” he pressed before being curtly interrupted.

“Where’s Tia?” Luke cut in, saving everyone’s necks for the time being.

Calum took in a draw of breath after stealing Luke’s cup of coffee, much to the singer’s distaste. “Oh you know,” he copied you teasingly. “Manager calls, as per usual.”

“She’s been getting plenty of calls lately,” Crystal commented.

You tried to not show immense interest in the conversation. After all, you didn’t know much about Tia and the group had been too distracted to show you her Instagram profile, damn Michael and his random tangents. In the meantime, you absentmindedly twirled your straw between your thumb and forefinger as the conversation continued.

“Tia’s getting a lot of public interest, what can I say?” Calum responded. “Her videos are getting more views every day. Her manager’s been calling her nonstop since companies keep reaching out to offer brand deal after brand deal.”

Ashton let out a hopeful sigh. “Imagine having a brand deal set for life,” he pondered aloud, setting his salad fork down. “I’d adopt more goats and expand the garden.”

“Cool it, Old McDonald,” Michael snickered. “I can’t imagine the band doing brand deals. Remember One Direction and their Pepsi commercials during the Super Bowl? Louis hated them.”

The table laughed, recalling the memory. Recognizing your confusion regarding Tia’s profession, Sierra leaned in. “She’s an Instagram influencer and interior designer. She went to school for design but has branched out since. Last time I browsed her page she was doing promos for some yoga company.”

“Great, so she’s perfect,” you grumbled to yourself, quiet enough for only Ashton to hear since he was right beside you. The drummer snorted, elbowing you roughly.

Calum, thankfully deaf to your comment, nodded along to Sierra’s explanation. “She’s great,” he hummed.

Your heart clenched at his words, but a hopeful side of yourself couldn’t help but perk at his courtness. Of course, it could be just to spare your feelings to not speak much about her. But a selfish part in your mind wondered if it was because she wasn’t his missing piece, the way that you fit perfectly for him.

Stop that, you scolded yourself. Calum is no longer yours, you made sure of that. You were the selfish one who pushed him away. Why do you continue to torture him when he’s finally happy, no thanks to you. You can’t continue to pull him back, that’s why you broke up with him. And here you are, falling back into old habits.

You blinked back your tears, the tears you had so desperately fought back since the day you broke up with him. You didn’t deserve to shed these tears when you caused the problem in the first place. Instead, you sucked in a breath and maintained your rigid composure. It’s better than falling apart, which you more than desperately wanted to do at the moment.

“y/n, you alright?” Calum asked, breaking you from your trance.

You jumped slightly, lifting your head to face the group. Forcing a smile, you nodded. “Perfectly fine.”

–

You weren’t sure why you were called here. After becoming mutuals on Instagram (and thoroughly stalking her pristine profile) Tia was quick to invite you out for yoga. You weren’t too keen on attempting yoga with a certified instructor, much preferring to save face in front of the already perfect girl. However, you found her nice and sweet enough to befriend despite the heartache it caused you.

“I’m really glad you agreed to come with me today,” Tia told you honestly as you finished your session for the day.

You settled yourself onto the mat, easing yourself into a simple stretch. “I’m glad you offered,” you replied, grunting at the ache panging slightly in your ankle. You were careful not to apply extra stress on your injured foot since it was still tender to the touch at times. “I’ve been eager to relax, especially after that accident.”

“And you deserve it,” Tia reassured you, beginning her own routine. “Yoga’s good for recovery and stress, I’ve always tried to convince Cal into joining but he wasn’t the most graceful learner.”

You giggled, recalling how clumsy the bassist would be. “Yeah, I’d leave that to Ashton.”

Tia nodded in agreement. Her fingers danced down her leg as she continued to stretch. Even as jealous as you were of her, you had to admit she was graceful in everything she did (and you were sure of it with a simple browse through her Tiktoks).

The two of you stepped out of the yoga studio, mats in tow as you continued to talk about random nonsense. On the walk back to your friend’s house -you had been staying there for the time being-, you came to realize that Tia was as genuine as they come and found it very difficult to dislike her out of jealousy.

“So you know how Cal and I met,” Tia began, referencing the story of how the two met at an awards show. “How did you and Calum meet and get together?”

Your mouth went dry. She knew you and Calum were a thing in the past? “I-“ you stammered.

Tia laughed at your sudden awkwardness. “I’m not dumb, you know,” she joked. “I knew about yours and Cal’s past. He talks a lot about you, you know? More now than ever now that you’re back.”

You had to stop the butterflies forming in your stomach. “He does?” you catch yourself saying instantly.

Tia nodded, uncapping her bottle and taking a sip of water. “Oh yeah, big time,” she answered. “It’s really sweet to know that you made such a big impact on his life.”

Your cheeks began to warm at her words. “He did the same,” you responded with full honesty. Tia patted your shoulder and grinned. “To answer your question, I met Calum a little over ten years ago, once the band started getting famous. I was just a senior in high school when they moved to L.A. I interned at their studio and that’s how we formally met.”

Tia gave you an impressed nod. “You guys got history,” she mused.

You couldn’t help but smile. The memories of the past always brought a smile to your face. Dyeing Michael’s hair and staining your bathtub red, constantly buying Ash bandanas whenever you came across one you knew he’d like. Luke coming to you when he had writer’s block, and Cal crawling through your bedroom window whenever he felt homesick and wanted someone to talk to.

“We do,” you agreed.

Turning a corner down the street, Tia continued to ask you questions. “Who asked who out?” she questioned. “Three years of being friends turned partners was clearly not an overnight thing.”

“It wasn’t,” you said. “It was Calum who asked me, but it took a whole lot of convincing from the boys.” You laughed quietly to yourself, recalling how he asked you to be your girlfriend.

You heard music playing softly in the night air. You had been studying nonstop for your college finals and hadn’t seen the outside of your dorm all day. You hadn’t called the boys in a while either since they’ve been touring the world after releasing Sounds Good Feels Good. You were significantly proud of them but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss your boys. Now, hearing the soft guitar strumming from outside your window made you feel more longingful for them than ever.

Especially Calum. You had a soft spot for the bassist, everyone knew that. You spent the most time with him when you interned at the music studio. He trusted your opinion above everyone else’s, and reached out to you the most while on tour. To say you had a little crush on him would be an understatement. The boys teased you relentlessly and teased Calum much more. They always said it was a matter of time until one of you would cave in and confess to the other. But they were wrong. You’re here in a small college dorm with no air conditioning single as can be while the boy you loved was halfway across the world.

“Thinking of you,” you texted Calum with a heavy heart. “And the boys, ofc :P”

You set your phone down and attempted to go back to studying when your phone pinged again.

“You don’t have to feel so blue, n/n,” he responded. “Look outside”

You hopped out of bed and opened your window as much as the old rusty thing could go. On the campus grass were your favorite boys flashing lights from their phones at you. Calum was resting on Ashton’s shoulders, waving at you with the wild boyish smile you loved with your entire being. Michael and Luke were beside him, Michael playing the guitar and Luke grinning and filming.

Concentrating hard, you recognized the sweet melody. It was the very song you wrote with him, Beside You.

“She sleeps alone

My heart wants to come home

I wish I was, I wish I was

Beside you”

Your heart did somersaults at the presentation before you. You had always begged Calum to sing more for the album but the boy was too shy. It took some pushing but you helped him get his confidence up. Taking a cardigan, you ran out of your hall and joined the boys on the lawn, tackling each of them into a hug.

“What the hell’s wrong with you!” you shouted out with a grin. You didn’t care if your yelling woke up your peers. Your boys were here in the flesh.

“We missed our girl,” Ashton told you, giving you a strong bear hug.

“One of us more than the rest,” Luke added with a cheeky smirk.

Calum had long been off Ashton’s shoulders, awaiting your hugs he missed so much. You, on the other hand, hesitated to do so.

“Come on!” Michael playfully shoved you. “We’ve come all this way, give the boy a hug!”

Your face was on fire. The extra pairs of eyes made you embarrassed. Calum took an extra step forward, his hands bashfully in his pockets.

“Didn’t you miss me, sunshine?” he asked you, awfully shy now after his confession of love. He was nervous he put you off and that he read the signs wrong.

“I did,” you whispered back, equally shy. “But I think I want something more than a hug.”

The boys let out whoops and cheers of joy as you decided to bite the bullet, grabbing Calum by the loops of his jeans and pulling him into a kiss.

Once you had pulled away, Calum’s lips formed into a dazed smile. “Be my girl, sunshine?” he asked you softly.

You pressed your lips against his once again, though this one was much shorter. “I was always yours, Calum.”

“Why did you and him end things, y/n?” Tia asked you, bringing you out of your thoughts. You seemed to be stuck in a trance these days, always pondering over the past and what could have been.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, truly at a loss of words. What could you say? That you had been selfish and pushed him away so that he wouldn’t end up hurting you first? That you drove the knife deep into Calum, twisting it in every way shape and form out of self preservation? There was no other way to put it than that in your mind.

“Time heals but also kills,” you told her with a broken smile. “Cal and I decided to put ourselves out of our misery and end things while they were good before it got worse.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Sure, he had no say in your ending things, but you spoke the truth about putting him out of his misery.

“Do you still love him?” she asked.

You glanced over at her. Her eyes shone in the light, curious and innocent. She didn’t know the pain you both had endured that landed you in this position.

Yes, your heart cried out. You love him. You love him with your entire being, that’s why you let him go. Because you’d rather kill your soul every single day of your life than stop him from reaching his life goals. If you had to go through that awful night that you broke your own heart again, you would, just to ensure that he is happy.

Even if that meant that he would be happy with someone else.

“He’s my first love,” you told her tearfully. “Of course I love him. But I am not his love, and that is okay with me. Life goes on, and so should I.”

The two of you stopped in front of your friend’s house. Tia took your hand and squeezed it. “I really do appreciate you coming along with me today,” she said earnestly. “And I’m glad I got to hear about you and Cal’s history. It really puts things into perspective.”

You smiled back at her. “Thank you for having me,” you responded. “I hope my words haven’t changed anything between the two of you. I meant what I said; him and I are in the past. I truly want the both of us to move forward and grow in our own separate ways.”

Your butterflies in your stomach turned into fierce wasps, stinging you sharply. Lies, your heart hissed. Tell her you love him and still want him.

You forced the bile rising in your throat down. Tia, blind to your inner troubles, continued to speak. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” she chuckled nervously. She grabbed your other hand, bringing them together.

“I wanted to ask Cal to be my boyfriend,” Tia confessed.

Crack. There goes your heart.

Tia seemed to notice the dip in your lips and immediately retracted. “But I don’t want to overstep or anything!” she rushed. “You and Cal have history, I’m not stupid enough to deny it. And that’s okay, that’s no one’s fault. If you still love him and want him, I’m not going to get in the way. Calum, well, it’s clear he loves you, too. I’ve heard countless amounts of stories about you to not get the memo. I really like Cal, I do. But that can’t go up against love.”

This was your chance. To right your wrongs from the past and take back what you truly wanted. Calum. You could take this moment to run to his house right now and take him back, and you’d have Tia’s full support. Zero guilt.

But why did it hurt so bad?

No. You made your bed, you have to sleep in it. It doesn’t matter if the bed was built of blades of self doubt and hate, you have to slip into the sharp sheets and let it pierce through your skin. You created your own mess. It is you alone that must deal with it. Not Calum, and surely not Tia.

You’ve made enough problems for everyone as is.

You mustered enough strength to let go of Tia’s hands and instead cup her cheeks. “Tia, honey,” you whispered calmly. “Our love is in the past. I’ve missed my chance, and I have learned to live with it. I’ve seen the way Calum looks at you, and that’s something that can blossom into something beautiful. There’s no need to dig up something that has already run its course.”

Tia’s lip trembled at your words. You nodded carefully. “You don’t need my permission or anything to date Calum. You don’t owe me anything. You both deserve to be happy, and clearly you make each other happy.”

“Are you sure?” Tia asked. “I promise you, it won’t hurt my feelings or anything if you still want him.”

“No, Tia,” you reassured her, despite the burning feeling in your chest. “Please, make him happy. Make him happier than I could ever make him. He deserves that much.”

–

Two weeks have passed since your encounter with Tia. Last thing you heard was that the two were very happy indeed, but you didn’t hear if they made it official. You had plenty of dates with the girls, but you insisted on changing the subject whenever they brought Calum up. You feared that if you heard about him one more time, you might burst into tears or do something stupid.

You finished up your work from the office in your friend’s house. Grateful to be able to work from home for the time you stayed in L.A., you had to admit that sitting on a chair from 9 to 5 made you quite sore. Eager to stretch your legs, you decided to take a walk to the local park.

However, it wasn’t any random park. It was the place you and Cal used to have endless dates when he was back from tour or the studio. You’d lay on the blanket he took from his apartment at the time and stare at the stars. Back when you both didn’t have much, you’d snack on soup crackers you took from each time you went to the diner across the street and share a can of Coke Cal took from the vending machine after work. So many secrets were shared at this park, and so many memories were made, too.

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who still frequents this place.”

You jumped to see the last person you expected at this place. Calum gave you a bashful smile before sitting beside you on the grass. You took in the last hour of sun beaming down your skin before the sky went dark, closing your eyes and tuning out the sound of the infamous L.A. traffic.

“How can I not?” you quipped. “This park is the only place in L.A. that isn’t stuffy or gross.”

Calum let out a laugh, quietly agreeing with you. “So what brings you here, Hood?” you asked, nudging his shoulder.

The bassist could only shrug his shoulders. “Could say the same about you,” he hummed. “Sometimes I like to sit here and write music. Other times I just sit here and listen to the ambiance.” You nodded, crossing your arms on your chest and making sure to keep a safe distance from him. His touch was mesmerizing, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours.

“This place reminds me to stay grounded,” he told you truthfully. “When I get too in my head, I always go here, even after we broke up.”

You dropped your hands to the grass, braiding the blades absentmindedly. “I’m glad,” you spoke up. Calum looked over at you, awaiting an explanation. “It’s too good of a place to let go after a silly little relationship.”

“It wasn’t a silly little-” Calum fought back.

“Let’s not talk about it, Cal,” you sighed exasperatedly.

Calum instantly frowned. “Why not?” he pressed. “You never seem to want to talk about the good old days.”

“Because it wasn’t “the good old days,”” you insisted, lying through your teeth.

Calum let out a stubborn huff. “Now that’s a lie,” Calum shot back. “But whatever, I won’t push.” A pregnant silence took over the two of you as Calum tried to find something to say. “Have you found yourself a new boyfriend yet?” he decided to ask.

“Calum-” you began.

“You said not to bring up the past,” Calum argued. “This is the best I can do.”

You shook your head at his words, giving in nonetheless. “No, I don’t,” you answered.

“Are you not ready for one?” he asked.

“I-” You took a moment to find the right words. “I need to work on myself before moving forward with someone else.”

“Well, I don’t get that,” Calum commented with a snort. “You’re perfect, what could you possibly work on?”

You choked out a dry laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Quite a bit, I’d say,” you confessed. “Calum, I was a mess, I still am. I can’t put someone through that again.”

“You didn’t put me through anything,” Calum persisted. “And now that you mention us, I can’t recall anything that you did wrong in that relationship. It was all me.”

“No Calum!” you raised your voice, standing up abruptly. He quickly followed, standing up to meet your frustrated, tired eyes. “It was me. And I’m tired of you insisting otherwise.”

“You said that I was always gone,” Calum reminded you, his voice matching the same volume as yours. “I don’t see anything that involves you in that.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Because I was needy!” you exclaimed. “And I was pushy, and I hated being alone all the time–”

“But I’m right here!” he yelled back. You took a step back in shock. He was never one to raise his voice at you, even when you fought in the past. It was your throat that got raw in those arguments from having a shouting match against yourself and losing hopelessly. “Goddammit y/n I’m right here. And I promised you that night that I would always be here if that’s what you wanted.”

Tears began to stream down your face as you pulled your hair in anger. “You don’t understand, Calum,” you cried out.

“Then help me understand!” Calum took a step closer to you, taking your hands in his. His brown eyes were desperate, searching yours for an answer. “Please, sunshine, let me in.”

For a moment, you almost faltered. You nearly gave in at his sweet words and use of that old nickname. But Tia remained in the back of your mind, and guilt sunk in once more.

You released yourself from his touch, looking away from his eyes. “You can’t call me that anymore,” you whispered to him. “I can’t, Calum. I just can’t.”

Calum watched you back away hopelessly. “y/n,” he sighed.

“I’m leaving for Boston in two days,” you told him. “I’m sure Ash told you that already, though. I overstayed my welcome at my friend’s house. I should start packing.”

The bassist followed you to the gate of the park. “But I feel like we should talk about this,” Calum pleaded.

Your fingertips grazed the gate, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you at the party, Calum.”

–

When you told the boys the date you were going back to Boston, Ashton jumped at the opportunity to throw you a goodbye party. In addition to catching up with you and spending every moment available with you, the boys insisted on planning the “biggest party of the century” for your departure.

“I still don’t see the necessity for all of this,” you told the three boys with a shake of your head.

“Trust us,” Ashton said with a wild grin. “We all need this.”

So here you were, casually sipping your cocktail in the corner of Ashton’s home while their exquisite rager took the house by storm. Sierra and Crystal stayed by your side throughout the night, insisting to keep up with each other while you were away. This time, you made sure to not end contact with them the way you did last time. Tia had also been in the group but left some time ago to deal with something.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” Luke asked, pouting dramatically. “L.A. isn’t the same without you here, n/n.”

You ruffled his hair playfully. The singer was always a little brother to you, no matter how close in age the two of you were. “I do, bub,” you said in a sorry voice. “I don’t think my boss could stand another week without me in the studio.”

“Then move back to this location!” Michael proposed, raising his glass and nearly spilling his drink on the floor. “Transferring wouldn’t be a bad idea, would it? The studio would love to have you back, producing and doing whatever else you do.”

You laughed at Michael’s drunken state. You were having a lot of fun relishing in the last few moments with your friends before leaving them once again. You almost didn’t realize the shouting that was going on in the dining room of Ashton’s home.

The entire group ran to the source of the noise to find Calum standing on the dining table with Tia pleading for him to get down.

“Calum, babe, please,” Tia shouted. “You’re causing a scene.”

All guests turned to see what was going on, especially to see why the bassist of 5 Seconds of Summer was shouting complete intelligible nonsense.

Ashton ran towards the edge of the table. “Mate, you need to get down,” he begged hurriedly. “You’re not thinking straight, you need to get down before you get hurt.”

“No,” Calum insisted, his words slurring slightly due to his inebriated state. “I need everyone to listen to me.”

Someone had managed to find the speaker and turn it off so everyone could hear Calum. Your heart was beating out of your chest, not from the alcohol buzzing through your system, but because of the drunk boy standing before you.

Calum raised his cup to the crowd. “I’d like to raise a toast to the girl who broke my heart,” he announced sloppily. “The “heartbreak girl” herself, y/n l/n.” Calum clapped loudly. He was the only one who was clapping while you stood there in shock and humiliation. “I loved you, you know?” he sniffed. “And I bloody well still do. Tia’s great, though. Absolutely nothing wrong with you, Tia, I hope you know that. But you’re not the one. y/n right here, she’s the one.”

His brown eyes, red from drinking and smoking God knows what, teared up as he looked down at you. “But what I can’t figure out is why won’t she love me?” Calum threw back the rest of his drink and winced at how strong it was. “I was getting ready to propose to you, you know?” he told you. “I had the ring in my pocket, and I was just waiting for the perfect moment.” Calum chuckled to himself bitterly. “Guess I fucked that up tremendously.”

“Calum, stop,” you pleaded.

“Why should I?” he asked you incredulously. “You didn’t stop packing your things when I asked you to. You didn’t stop running when I chased after you in the dark. You didn’t stop when you booked that flight across the country to run away from me.”

Tears were streaming down your face now. “It wasn’t like that, Cal,” you cried. “W-we broke up for a reason-”

“And that’s what I can’t wrap my head around!” he shouted. “You barely gave me a reason! You told me you never saw me anymore. I was willing to make more time for you, to end my career for you, to get down on one knee and be with you, and that wasn’t enough! There had to be another reason-”

“There wasn’t, Cal!” you sobbed. “So drop it, please.”

Silence spread throughout the whole house. No one moved an inch, too shocked to make a single sound or move. All that could be heard was the sounds of your messy sobs that you failed to keep in. Cal dropped his cup and gestured his hands at you.

“The Heartbreak Girl, everyone,” he announced with a broken sigh. “Hope you enjoyed this one hell of a show, with your heartbroken host, Calum Thomas Hood.”

You ran out of the house as fast as your feet could take you. The air was brisk in your lungs, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care when the man you loved poured his heart out to you, only for you to squash it like it was nothing.

“y/n!” you heard a voice call out for you. You whipped around to see Tia, scrambling to catch up to you. In the back, you could see the band -minus Calum- and their significant others peering out the glass door to see what was going on.

Tia grabbed your hand tightly. “y/n, fuck, I’m so sorry about Calum,” she apologized, swearing profusely. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. First we were talking about our relationship then-“

“Please, don’t bring up your relationship,” you cut her off, roughly shaking your head. “I know I gave you my blessing, but please I can’t bear to get my heart broken again.”

“You don’t understand!” Tia pushed. “We don’t have a relationship to begin with! y/n, I never asked Calum to be my boyfriend, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t interfere with a love as great as yours and his.”

You stumbled backwards. “What?”

Tia nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “y/n, you and Calum are endgame, don’t you see? I only talked to him tonight to explain that you still loved him. I guess he was too caught up in the alcohol to think rationally.”

“Tia,” you said, voice dripping in disappointment and dread. “That wasn’t your secret to tell him.”

“Were you going to say anything?” she shot back. “You weren’t, so I had to take matters into my own hands. n/n, I’m a firm believer in fate and second chances. This is your chance at making everything right-“

“But I can’t!” you cried, ripping your hand away from hers. “Don’t you get it? I’m the one that’s killing him! I put him through hell and I can’t continue to do that. Why can’t you see that I’m a fucked up mess that ruins everything I touch? I love Calum, I’ll never stop loving him, but I’m not blind enough to not see that my love is torturing him slowly.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. Tears reappeared in the corner of your eyes, but you were too tired to wipe them away. “I’m never going to be enough for Calum,” you confessed. “That’s why I broke up with him. I can’t watch him waste his life away on a girl that’s only going to disappoint him. I’m not like you, Tia. I’m not perfect, or beautiful, or smart, or anything remotely interesting. And one day, Calum is going to see that and realize he missed his opportunity to find someone good for him, someone that he deserves.

“I don’t deserve him, Tia,” you finished in a broken whisper. “I never will. So I’d rather fade into the background and be a distant memory than become a face he can’t stand to look at.”

“That’s not true,” Tia insisted, tears gracefully falling down her beautiful face. “y/n, you have to believe me when I say that’s not true.”

A car drove down the street, approaching the two of you. You let out a sigh of relief, recognizing it as your uber. “I don’t have to believe you,” you replied, opening the car door. “My word is all that I need.”

—

Calum woke up the next day with a pounding headache. He groaned aloud, sitting up on the couch and cradling his head. He wished he was drunk enough that night to forget everything that happened, but he remembered every single detail. From the beat of the bass from the stereo to the way your dress hugged your curves he loved to kiss and hold.

He finally pushed you away, he realized. And for good, this time. Calum felt dread and regret rush through his system, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed and sleep his life away.

“You know grumbling isn’t going to cure a hangover,” Tia’s reprimanding voice rang through the living room.

Tia. Calum jumped up to face her where she had been leaning against the door frame.

“Oh Ti,” he sighed, covering his face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry for last night, I must have humiliated you. I’m a right idiot, and I’m so sorry I put you through that.”

“Oh shut up,” Tia laughed, walking over to him and sitting him down. “I can’t say that I wasn’t hurt, but I also can’t say I was surprised with how things turned out.” Calum hung his head low, ashamed of his behavior. He never wanted to hurt either of you. “Cal, you don’t have to be so sullen. It’s okay, there’s no hard feelings or bad blood between us.”

When Calum couldn’t bring himself to respond, Tia decided to take it a step further. “I always knew you loved her,” she confessed. “That’s why I brought it up to you last night. I wanted both of you to work things out. She really does love you.”

Calum let out a bitter laugh. “She sure has a way of showing it,” he muttered. “Tia, don’t make me feel worse by feeding me lies. It hurts enough that I hurt both of you, don’t make it worse by saying that bullshit.”

“I’m telling the truth!” she fought back. “y/n still loves you, she told me that herself.”

“Then why did she break up with me?” Calum retorted. “If her love never left the table, where was it when she broke things off? Correct me if I’m wrong, Tia, but I don’t think that’s how you treat the people you supposedly love.”

Tia screwed her eyes shut, heaving out a sigh. “She loved you so much, she thought you deserved more,” Tia finally explained. “She let you go so that you could find someone better, someone who makes you happier.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Calum shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “How could she think that? No one could be better than her, um, no offense.” Tia snorted at the last part. “If anything, I thought I didn’t deserve her.”

“Well you’re both idiots,” Tia deadpanned. “You two clearly love each other more than life itself but were too blind to see you were perfect for each other.”

Calum’s shoulders caved in as he drowned in his thoughts. His hangover headache was piercing his skull but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t process why you’d ever think so lowly of yourself when he praised the ground you walk on.

“How can I go back to her and repair things when I never realized she was hurting?” he asked. “Why would she ever want me back when I wasn’t there at her lowest? All the signs were there. She stopped calling me every night to talk about her day while I was away. She’d dodge my Facetimes with bullshit excuses that I failed to point out.” Calum huffed to himself, beating himself up critically. “What makes you think I won’t fuck up again when she needs me?”

“Because you’ve learned from your mistakes before,” Tia told him, rubbing his arm soothingly. “And you can learn from them again. That’s what I like about you, Cal. You always made an effort to better yourself, no matter the challenge. And if you truly love her, you’re going to end up fine.”

Calum smiled softly at Tia’s words, raising his chin to look her in the eyes. “I love her so much,” he whispered. The bassist took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with us, Ti,” he apologized genuinely. “I really do hope you find someone who is willing to lay down their life for you.”

“I’ve watched two lovers reconnect like no time has passed at all,” Tia smiled back. “Trust me, I have the groundwork laid out for what’s ahead of me.”

Suddenly, Calum’s phone began to ring. Lunging towards the arm of the couch, Calum pulled his phone off the charger and read the caller ID. Eyes wide, he looked at Tia who gave him a knowing look.

“I’ll start the car.”

–

You opened your eyes, immediately squinting at the bright light. You were met once again with the familiar feeling of a skull splitting headache and aching ankle.

“Must you always get yourself into these situations?”

You turned to face those brown eyes and cheeky smile you adored. Calum shook his head in disbelief, taking your hand in his. “I thought you said you’d change your emergency contact,” he said in a scolding tone.

Your face was on fire at his words. “I forgot,” you told him honestly.

Once again, you ended up in the hospital with similar injuries to what you received at the beginning of your trip. But instead of a car accident, you’d clumsily fallen down the stairs on the way to your Uber to the airport. Luckily a neighbor next door heard the ruckus and loaded you into the Uber straight to the hospital.

“Or it’s fate,” Calum suggested, resting his hand on the side of your head.

“Calum,” you tried to counter.

He stopped you instantly. “I know why you ended things,” he simply told you. “And I think I deserve a say in it.” Closing your mouth, you let him speak. “You’re wrong, y/n. You do deserve me as much as I deserve you. And I love you no matter what. I don’t need a famous celebrity as my partner when I have you in my life. None of that superficial stuff matters to me, y/n, you know that. And I know that for as long as I live and you forget to change your emergency contact list, I’ll always come for you.”

Your heart fluttered, and you allowed yourself to feel hope for the both of you. “But what if someday down the line you want more?” you asked in a small voice.

Calum blinked away his tears. “What more can I want?” he said in response. “You’re all I want, y/n. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

“Don’t apologize,” you laughed, tears beginning to fall, too. “It was my stupid brain that made me doubt in the first place.”

Calum leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “So is that it?” he asked. “Are we done doubting? Will you finally come home, y/n? Be with me forever?”

You raised your hand to cup his cheek. He instinctively leaned into your touch. “With you,” you told him surely. “I’m always home. I’m yours, Calum Hood.”

–

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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

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Chapter 1 of the Blood Ties Series.

When Your Line is Crossed, I Get Off

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: The Quarry

Warnings: Poorly written smut (p in v), slight mention of injuries

Summary: Sometimes, you just need to let off some steam and you have your very own ill-tempered, complicated redneck to help with that goal.

A/N: Help, I’m stuck on Quarry/CDC/Farm Daryl and he’s got me in a chokehold. I like it.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

It should have made you feel ashamed; guilty, even. You were putting your family at risk. You had been for weeks. The Turn had brought out the worst in humanity. Rapists, murderers, plunderers. You had heard at least one story of each every single run into the city you made.

You despised the city, even before the world went to shit. You had grown up in the woods. Being from a small no-name town meant sometimes it was necessary to find your own food. You helped your dad with a small garden, helped him hunt. You took over doing both when the car accident took his leg. Your mom had split when you were a toddler, so your dad was everything. You made sure he knew that by stepping up when the time came for you to care for him.

You had made sure everything he needed was packed before grabbing anything of your own. The two of you had left to meet up with your aunt and two uncles in the mountains. The further from strangers you were, the better. Family came first.

That’s why the tree bark scraping your back while eight inches of redneck from a nearby camp slammed into your pussy should have made you feel all sorts of bad.

Daryl was everything your father had told you to stay away from, but when you stumbled across one another while tracking the same deer, you felt drawn to him in a way that was unfamiliar. He had slung several insults at you that you had boomeranged with some clever ones of your own. You had relented that day, retreating toward your own camp with a watchful eye over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t followed.

You met him twice more after that. He never seemed to hunt in the same area, which made sense. It also meant that you were bound to run into one another again. It was the second meeting when it changed. He was more tense and you could sense something was different. Even after only a couple of chance encounters, you didn’t feel threatened. So, you did what any girl in your situation would do.

You offered him a blow job.

Given your current position, he had obviously accepted. The two of you met up regularly now to “destress.” You never really found time for conversation but you knew two things for certain:

Daryl Dixon was an excellent hunter.

Daryl Dixon knew how to fuck.

“Right there! Fuck, harder!” You clawed at his shoulders, angling your knees outward while your ankles remained locked against his ass. The angle pulled him deeper, his tip pressing even harder against that delicious spot inside you.

As per usual, you were utterly bare. Daryl had an obsession with being able to touch every inch of your skin. Licking, biting, kissing with an eagerness that made you feel worshiped. He would leave marks that— like your abused cunt— pleasantly ached for a couple of days, only leaving you yearning for the next encounter.

Daryl, on the other hand, remained clothed. You had never seen more than his cock and a patch of his lower stomach. It was odd and he had snapped at you to “stop being a nosey bitch” when you had questioned. If it hadn’t been for the shame you could see in those striking blue eyes, things might have gone much differently. You had yet to bring it up again.

“Takin’ me so well. Can’t get ‘nough’a this, can ya?” He panted against the shell of your ear, dragging his tongue over to your jaw before claiming your mouth. He was swallowing your moans, knowing how loud you could be, especially when you were nearing your end.

“You feel so good—mmm, ah—inside me.” His grip on your ass tightened, his thrusts becoming harder, more desperate.

“Yeah? That’s cause this pussy’s mine, ain’t it? Made just for me to fuck.” You could feel the heat churning in your lower belly, your walls fluttering around him as your orgasm crept closer. His words only made you burn hotter. “Say it. Tell me s’mine.”

“It’s yours, Daryl, it’s yours.” You whined, grinding your hips in time with his thrusts, desperate to feel that spiraling pleasure. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it then, woman. Cum for me.” Daryl breathed, already feeling you begin to clamp down around him. He knew from experience to place a palm over your mouth, your screams loud enough to scare the birds from their perches in the canopy. You cried out against his hand, clawing at his back before settling for gathering fistfuls of his tank top as you spasmed and shook in his hold. “Ah, fuck!”

He followed you over the edge, his warmth emptying into you with each lazy pump of his hips. You both gasped, the feeling too overwhelming for either of you to fully grasp in the midst of the pleasure consuming you. Your walls continued to contract, milking every drop and pulling it further inside of you as the world went from a kaleidoscope of colors back to the quiet greens and browns of nature.

The redneck was always surprisingly gentle when separating from you. He pressed one last kiss to your mouth, chaste and uncoordinated, as he pulled out and lowered your legs. It was almost intimate. Not something either of you had ever verbalized wanting, but it comforted you. It made you feel less guilty, less dirty, so you never corrected him.

However, a line was crossed that needed confronting.

You watched him tuck himself away, already inspecting the area for tracks, while you redressed. You had slipped on your jeans and panties, fastening your bra before you decided he wasn’t going to speak on it first.

“You came inside me, Dixon.” He gave you a sharp look. He knew exactly what he had done, whether it was intentional or not.

“Yeah, so?” He shrugged a shoulder and began gathering his weapons and supplies. You weren’t stupid. It had clearly been an accident, but Daryl wasn’t the kind of man to apologize easily.

“I’m not sure if your parents ever had the talk with you, but what just happened more often than not leads to the creation of these things known as babies.”

“Ain’t stupid, Y/N. I know what it means.” He snapped, his body angled toward you but his gaze off toward the direction of his camp.

“And if that happens?”

“Won’t.”

“Humor me.” You deadpanned, your own bag now snug against your shoulder and your rifle balanced on your hip. He began to gnaw on the side of his thumb, something he did when he was uncomfortable, you had noticed.

“We’ll handle it.”

“We?” You smirked, earning a quick lift of his middle finger.

“Didn’t stutter, did I, Sunshine?”

“Holy shit. You breed me like a rabbit and then give me a nickname? You got a ring in your pocket for me?”

“Fuck off.”

“Three days, midday.” You were nervous, but there was nothing you could do about it now. Daryl was acting like he wasn’t feeling it but his body language screamed otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t even show up next time. Something about that thought made your heart a little heavier but you wouldn’t linger on that.

“Alright.” He drawled, taking the first couple of steps away from you. It seemed he had something else he wanted to say, but in the end, he chose to keep walking.

“Dixon.” You called after him, smiling when he looked back over his shoulder. “Bring condoms.” You were pretty sure that jerk of his head was a nod before he disappeared into the trees. You turned back toward your own camp, grabbing your string of rabbits.

Your thoughts were consumed by Daryl the entire way back, wondering if you’d ever see him again after that day. Little did you know that he forewent returning to his own camp, making a single run to the outskirts of Atlanta to grab every box of rubbers he could get his hands on.

Chapter 2

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shiorimakibawrites · 3 months

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The Accident (Part I of Happy Little Accident)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: 7, 368 Summary: You tripped in the elevator and covered your neighbor in paint. Your ridiculously hot neighbor that you have an enormous crush on. Warning(s): Anxiety, Female Gaze, Referenced Sex, Referenced Character Death, Reference to assumed Attempted Murder, Thoughts about sex Happy Little Accident Masterlist My Masterlist Tag List: @loves0phelia

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

The Accident

You were painting in Central Park when your phone rang. You let out an irritated huff as you fished your phone out of your apron’s pocket and looked at the caller ID. Abby, your boss at the Daily Grind. It was tempting to ignore the call, pretend like you had forgotten your phone. Very tempting. It was a lovely spring day, one you would much rather spend painting than working. But in the end the knowledge that Abby wasn’t prone to bothering her employees during their off hours without a good reason had you accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Abby said, sounding apologetic. “Can you cover for the afternoon shift today? Peter is in the hospital.”

“The hospital?!” you repeated, feeling immediately concerned. “What happened? Is he okay?”

Peter was one of the cafe’s newer employees. You didn’t know him very well yet but he seemed like a nice kid. If a little absentminded, given how often he arrived for his shift at a rush. And possibly even more clumsy than you are since you had often seen him with bruises which he claimed were the results of tripping over things.

Assuming he wasn’t lying about how he had gotten hurt. Which you thought that he was . . . some of those injuries didn’t look like they had came from a fall . . . It worried you. It worried others at the cafe too. Abby wasn’t usually so forgiving of such frequent tardiness and absences.

“He got hit by a car. Claims that he’s only got minor injuries but the hospital doesn’t want to discharge him without running some tests first. So can you come in today?”

You suppressed the urge to sigh. You didn’t want to sent the wrong message. Because you weren’t actually annoyed with Abby or Peter but the situation. These things happen. Sometimes people got hurt or got sick. And when they did, someone didn’t get their day off. Today was simply your turn.

And well . . . it wasn’t like you couldn’t use the money.

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”

You ended the call and slipped your phone back into your apron before starting to gather up your things. Your newly acquired shift started at three. It was only a little after noon, plenty of time to get back to your apartment and get ready, but you didn’t like rush. Rushing tended to make you even more of a klutz.

You swirled the used brushes in the water jar, trying to get as much paint off of your brushes before rolling them in a small towel. A second towel, already stained with old paint, was used to wrap up your palette. The paint was thrown back into their carrying box. Which was technically a small tackle box but you had repurposed it for art supplies. The box went into the bottom of your tote bag along with the water jar, double checking that lid was screwed on tightly. You didn’t need to ruin another sketchbook. You squeezed your current sketchbook behind the tackle box. Next went your pencil case, followed by the towels and their respective cargo. Now the only thing left was your painting and the portable easel.

You removed the painting from the easel, careful to avoid the spots where the paint had spilled over onto the tacking edge. Your fingers already had enough paint on them. The painting was propped against a tree, fingers crossed for two things. One that the wind wouldn’t pick up and send your painting flying. And two, a police officer wouldn’t start yelling at you for it. You didn’t think using the tree as a momentary support while you packed up violated any park rules but you weren’t entirely sure. You had read the park rules but they were written like a legal document . . . which it probably was . . . but that made you feel like you probably weren’t understanding it right. After all, you weren’t a lawyer.

Luck seemed to be with you. You were able to get easel broken down and put away without incident. You swung your bag into your shoulder before picking up your painting. After making sure you had a good grip on the stretcher and the tacking edge, you took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. Then you started making your way home.

Your lucky streak continued. You didn’t drop anything. No one dumped into the wet canvas or you while you were walking. The subway was busy as usual but not packed to the gills. Your feet resisted the urge to get tangled up in some random piece of debris. Or your own feet. Or the absolutely nothing that you somehow managed to trip over sometimes . . .

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was too good to last.

Things began to go awry when you were waiting for the elevator to arrive. You looked down and saw a tube of paint in your aprons’ pockets instead of the tackle box where it belonged. Normally, you’d shrug and try to remember to put it away later but it looked like the cap hadn’t been screwed back on correctly. Your frown deepened after you transferred your painting to one hand and realized that the cap was loose. Loose enough that it was a minor miracle that it hadn’t fallen off somewhere between the park and here . . . you hoped the paint hadn’t gotten dried out . . .

You heard the elevator dings its arrival as you pulled the paint out of your pocket. Trying to one-handedly shift the tube so its cap could be gripped between your fingers and twisted close, you didn’t look when you heard the elevator door slide open. You just moved forward. And immediately tripped over . . . something . . . you had no idea what.

You just knew that you were falling, that you had lost your grip on your painting as your hands instinctively rose to protect your head from the oncoming impact. An impact that never came. Someone caught you before you could hit the floor. Unfortunately the hand holding the paint had squeezed down, spraying paint on yourself and the chest of your rescuer.

It was like a train wreck. You didn’t want to look but you always couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You stared in horror the giant splash in the middle, the magenta color of the paint shockingly bright against the light gray suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie . . . Your eyes darted to the array of smaller droplets that radiated outward like shrapnel . . . you raised your eyes with the growing dread. Because you recognized that suit and tie, that broad chest . . .

Sure enough, when you looked up, you were greeted with the very surprised face of Matt Murdock. You felt your heart sink. Of course it was Matt. It couldn’t have been someone else. Anyone else. Preferably a random stranger that you would never see again. But no . . . it had to be your neighbor. It had to the man you had developed an enormous crush on.

Your face felt like it was on fire. You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you. You wanted to cry. Matt returning your feelings had always been a long shot . . . but now? There was no chance. You had turned out of his nice suits into a terrible Jackson Pollock . . . you were going to be lucky if he ever talked to you again . . .

You don’t know when you started apologizing. One minute, you were frozen in humiliated shock, the next increasingly frantic words started spilling out of your mouth. What words you couldn’t say. You couldn’t hear anything past your heart pounding in your ears . . .

A hand cupping your cheek was so startling that it immediately pierced the panic clouding your mind. Big, warm hand . . . you blinked and realized that someone was speaking to you. A familiar deep, soft-spoken voice . . .

“. . . shh, shh, sweetheart, it’s okay . . .”

Sweetheart?! You would hardly believe your own ears. But that was definitely Matt’s voice, his face that you were looking at, and those oh-so-kissable lips were moving . . .

This wasn’t the first time that Matt had called you sweetheart. He had been doing that since the first time you meet. If literally running into someone counts as meeting them. You would like to say no but it wasn’t like your second encounter with your then new neighbor had gone much better. You weren’t always a klutz around him but your bouts of clumsiness did occurred around him with embarrassing regularity.

And provided he was nearby when it happened, Matt always caught you when you started falling . . . so finding yourself in his arms also happened on a regular basis.

This had some upsides. For one, it gave you an appreciation for how much muscle must be hiding under those suits of his. Because he never had any trouble catching you or helping you get back onto your own feet. There was something very hot about the way he could lift you up like you weighted nothing. For another, he is very warm. Which had been especially nice during the recent autumn and winter months. And he smelled good. Like plain soap, ink, paper, and something woodsy like sandalwood with fainter notes of leather, cooper, and something else familiar but that you couldn’t quite remember what it was or where you had smelled it.

On the downside, you were never in his arms for very long. Certainly not long enough to really enjoy being held by those strong arms. He’d catch you, make sure you were steady on your feet again, then his arms would slide away and he stepped back. Taking all of his warmth and good smells with him. Which was always a little disappointing even if you did appreciated that he didn’t assume that he had permission to hold you longer than was absolutely necessary. And that he didn’t use those moments as an excuse to get handsy. Which you knew some people would have.

Further on the downside, being in his arms for any length of time made it very hard to pretend that he didn’t get you all hot and bothered. That having his warm breath brush against your neck and ear when he said something like ‘Careful, sweetheart’ didn’t make the skin there prickle and the rest of you shudder. Or, last week, when your shirt had gotten ridden up, that feeling those callused fingers against your bare skin didn’t make you shiver. Or the absolute worst, when you had to act like you hadn’t just been touching yourself while fantasizing about him, that you hadn’t just been moaning his name, that being in his arms hadn’t renewed the heat between your legs . . .

Those moments, it was really difficult to stop yourself from doing something crazy. Like ask him if you can find out if those pouty lips are soft as they looked . . . or if how much of that beautiful ass you could fit in your hands . . .

You suppressed the urge to groan. Serena, your best friend in the world, was right. You needed to get laid. Because even at the most embarrassing moments of your life, when you were half-considering changing your name and moving somewhere far away, you still couldn’t keep your mind out of the gutter.

Your imagination was out of control. It kept trying to convince you of the wildest things. Like that there was something more to the way his fingers had rubbed that little sliver of bare skin last week than just some mild curiosity when his hands didn’t encounter the expected shirt material. Or those tightening grips on your waist was anything other than making sure he wasn’t about to drop you. Those moments when his voice went deeper and huskier weren’t due to attraction but Matt was obviously coming down with a cold or something.

You ignored the grumbling inner voice that pointed out, aside from when he had the misfortune to get stuck in the elevator with that guy from the third floor who smelled like he bathed in cheap cologne, you had yet to see Matt so much as sneeze. Or that none of those moments had overlapped with the times Matt had looked ill – tired and moving like his body ached.

You weren’t going to get your hopes up. Matt was way out of your league. So far out that you weren’t even playing the same sport. He was incredibly good-looking, easily one of the most handsome men you had ever meet. You were the textbook definition of Plain Jane. Not ugly but not beautiful either. He was confident, outgoing, and charming. You were anxious, shy, and awkward. He was a lawyer with a successful law firm. You were an artist whose work didn’t sell well enough to make a living off of it. Hence the waitress/barista job at the Daily Grind.

Maybe not the most sensible job choice for a shy klutz but there were only so many options for someone with an art degree. Plus you had been working there since college and Abby had displayed remarkable patience for your clumsiness (and the periodic broken dishes that went with it). Mostly because you were otherwise reliable. And while you would never enjoy making small talk with strangers, you could do with a smile. It helped the majority of the regulars were nice . . .

“Sweetheart?”

Any blood that managed to drain out of your cheeks immediately flooded back. You were really batting a thousand today. First you spray him with paint, then you babble incoherently at him, then you stand there like a moron ignoring him for god only knew how long. If Matt didn’t already think you were awkward and weird, he certainly did now.

“Sorry,” you said, not sure of what to say.

He smiled at you. That sweet one that seemed . . . .dare you say it? . . . fond? Which did nothing to diminish the flush in your face. Neither did the little circles his thumb was rubbing into your right cheek or the reassuring squeeze from the hand at your waist.

He’s just trying to keep me calm, you told yourself sternly. It didn’t mean anything. He just didn’t need you panicking again. Lawyers were busy people. He had probably had things to do and didn’t want to waste anymore time on you.

“And to answer your earlier question, no, I’m not going to sue you.”

You had actually said that? Out loud? You closed your eyes and let out a low groan. Everytime you think this situation couldn’t get more embarrassing . . . that idea of moving some remote mountain which hopefully had no insanely hot lawyers living on it was sounding better and better. The only thing thing that would have been worse was if your word-vomit had decided to detail just how attractive you found him. Then, in addition to everything else today, you’d have to listen to him say ‘I’m flattered but . . .’ while your heart shattered into a million pieces . . .

“Sorry,” you repeated. Because what else you could you say to something like that?

“No need to apologize again, sweetheart,” he said as his hand slide off of your face before joining its fellow in helping you get back on your own feet. Then, as usual, his arms pulled away entirely and he took a small step back. As usual, you told yourself that you weren’t disappointed or felt colder. Both were a lie.

“It was an accident,” he continued. “You said you were sorry. No harm done.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from flickering around his suit. The mess hadn’t miraculously disappeared. It was still here.

“No harm?” you repeated. “You’ve got magenta splattered all over your suit!”

“Which one is magenta?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I remember what magenta looks like,” Matt said, sounding thoughtful. “Can you describe it for me?”

“Er . . . pink?” you said, trying to think of how to describe it. “This particular shade is darker than bubblegum, more purplish-red? Like some plums just under the skin or a pomegranate?”

“Sounds pretty,” he said. “Foggy has been telling me that I need to wear more color.”

“I think he probably meant new clothes that were different colors, not paint splattered on your existing clothes,” you said slowly, unsure of what to make of this conversation. It was not turning out at all like you would have expected it to.

He grinned. “Most likely but he never actually said clothes. Just more color. He knows better than to leave the terms of a contract that vague.”

While you didn’t know Foggy Nelson very well, you had the feeling he would not be impressed. You had also seem him and Matt needling each other at Josie’s often enough to picture the irritated look he would level at his partner if he returned to work looking like this and tried to make that argument. The image was so absurd that you had to giggle.

“Not sure that is a winning argument, Mr. Murdock,” you said,

“Sure it is,” he said. “Any ambiguity in a contract favors the party that didn’t write it. Foggy wrote the contract without defining his terms. So I am free to interpret those terms as anyone might reasonably expect them to mean.”

Which only made you giggle even harder. He was being so silly. “It’s not very professional?”

“Regretfully, I have to agree,” he said, sounding almost like he genuinely disappointed about that. Provided you couldn’t see the cheeky grin on his face. “Will I need anything special to remove the paint?”

“No,” you said, silently thanking Past You for choosing to work with acrylics today instead of oils. The faded spots the turpentine would leave would be less noticeable than magenta but still probably not something he wanted. Also even the low-odor version didn’t smell good. You didn’t know if there was any truth to that whole ‘blind people’s other senses get stronger’ thing but real or not, Matt seemed to have a pretty sensitive nose. “Acrylics are water-based. As long as it is still wet, warm water and soap is enough.”

“See? No harm done,” he said, giving that flirty smile that always made your heart go pitter-patter. Even when you tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything. Matt was a charming guy who flirted a little with everyone. You had seem him get a little flirty with Mrs. Gonzales, the third resident of the sixth floor. Who was, as she pointedly reminded him, old enough to be his grandmother and scolded him for shameless flattery. She had rolled her eyes a little when he retorted the truth wasn’t flattery but did seem pleased. Pleased enough to make him tamales. Which honestly made you a little jealous. The tamales you had bought from her at during the holidays had been really good . . .

Serena thought Matt wasn’t flirting with you just to flirt. That he actually liked you. But she was your best friend. It was her job to believe that you were wonderful and agree that the hot guy you had a crush on was into you. And if it turned out that he wasn’t . . . well, then he was an idiot wasn’t worth your time. You wanted to believe her . . . you wanted that to true so badly . . .

But you had seen the women Matt used to bring home. And the ones who flirted with him at Josie’s. Beautiful, self-assured women with successful careers. They were everything that you weren’t. Granted, you hadn’t seen one of his paramours leaving or arriving at the building for a while. And the only ones you had seen him leaving Josie’s with lately were his friends.

Or you. Which you refused to read anything into either. Matt just didn’t think you walking home alone at night was safe. And it wasn’t. The Kitchen might have Daredevil, its guardian in red leather, but he couldn’t be everywhere. Couldn’t save everyone through if the rumors were to be believed, it certainly seemed like he tried.

Regardless of his reason, you always ended up agreeing because you were too weak to say no to spending just a little more time with him. And it wasn’t like you were making him go out of his way since you both lived in the same building . . .

The point was that Matt would the same thing for anyone. Even someone who really didn’t need it. Like Jessica Jones. Through he claimed that was just to save himself or Foggy from needing to make another late-night trip to the police station because she had punched some creep into a wall. While he agreed that yes, they deserved it for treating someone like that but the police didn’t see that way, Jessica . . .

“As long as it’s still wet,” you repeated. “It’s harder to remove once its’ dry.”

“How does that take?”

“About half an hour.”

“Good thing I’m so close to home then.” Then he seemed to hesitate. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Absolutely,” you said, cringing a little at how eager you sounded. But you had gotten paint all over him. A favor was the least you could do.

“Can you help me get this cleaned up?” he said, gesturing toward the paint. He gave you a self-deprecating smile. “Otherwise I might miss a spot.”

“I can do that,” you said. You had been intending to offer help anyway. You had made the mess. You should help clean it up.

He frowned suddenly, his head tilting to one side. “Are you sure? I’m not keeping you from anything?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t need to be at work until three and it’s . . .”

You tried to check the time on your watch but it had a smear of paint across the face. Unfortunately the hands were hidden by said smear of paint. “Probably not three.”

Matt’s lips twitched. “Problem with your watch?”

“Paint is hiding the hands.”

He gave an amused grin as he ran his fingers around the edge of his watch. “The downside of wearing non-tactile watches. It’s a quarter til one.”

“Plenty of time,” you said. And even if it wasn’t . . . Abby was a reasonable person. She would completely understand not leaving any neighbor, let alone your blind neighbor, to clean this up.

He smiled before reaching down to pick up his fallen cane. You felt your face get warm again. Both because you just realized what you had gotten tripped over (which made you feel like a jerk) and because that action had pulled those trousers taut over his ass (which made you feel . . . other things). But you couldn’t stop yourself from looking. Not when you had a front row seat to one of the best asses in America. Possibly the world.

Matt couldn’t possibly know that you were checking out his ass but that smug little smirk that he flashed in your direction made you feel like he did. You averted your eyes and tried to find a distraction. Before thinking about his ass (or other body parts) got you worked up. More worked up. Which not only would be awkward but make you nervous and prone to say something embarrassing.

Then you remembered your painting. You had dropped it earlier. Where was . . . you let out a distressed groan as you picked it up. The good news was that your painting hadn’t landed paint-side down. Which had saved the mostly dried paint from smearing or chipping. The bad news that hadn’t escaped The Magenta. It didn’t get hit as nearly badly as Matt but there was still a giant splat right in the middle of the lake . . .

“What’s wrong?”

“There is a giant glob of magenta in the middle of the lake,” you said.

“The lake?”

“In my painting,” you said. “I was doing one of the Bow Bridge in Central Park.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Maybe,” you said, looking at the mess and trying to think of how to incorporate the random splatters into the image. You could remove some of it without taking off the underlying layers but not all of it. That would have to be incorporated somehow . . . Maybe a boat? Or a float . . . some of the smaller ones could be turned into leaves if you switched the setting to autumn just as the leaves were turning . . . or a flowering tree with pink blossoms . . .

“We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents,” you reminded your inner perfectionist.

“That sounds familiar.”

“It’s something Bob Ross said a lot,” you said. “He was–”

“That guy on PBS who painted the landscapes?” Matt said. “Soft-spoken, sometimes had a squirrel in his pocket and talked about happy trees?”

“That’s the one,” you said. “The Joy of Painting. I watched it religiously as a kid. How about you?”

An odd little smile spread across Matt’s face. “Not often enough to qualify as religious but you could call us regular watchers. My dad wasn’t much of an art guy but he found the show relaxing . . . and it was quiet. I could turn it on in the morning without waking him up after he had worked late.”

He sounded nostalgic, like these were fond memories but also deeply sad. Then you remembered that Matt’s father was dead. Killed when he was a little boy. Which you only knew about because you had once given into temptation and googled Matt Murdock. Most of the search results had been about his law firm and the Castle trial but further down the page, articles about the accident that blinded him and his father’s death had also appeared. But by then, you had felt guilty enough about snooping into his life that you hadn’t read any those of articles beyond their headlines.

“Did you ever try to follow along?” you asked softly.

“A few times with the watercolors from my school supplies,” he said. “I was terrible at it but my dad hung up every picture on the fridge like it was the Mona Lisa.”

“Mine did that too,” you said. “My mom might still have a few of them tucked away with the baby pictures, waiting to embarrass me with them.”

He chuckled. “Did you ever fall asleep watching the show?”

You laughed. “Yes. Usually after I had stayed up too late reading.”

“Same,” he said, then gestured to the control panel. “Shall we go up?”

“Yes, we shall,” you said, a little amazed at how well this was going, despite the mishap. And that the elevator had remained here at the ground floor for this long. Probably it was the middle of the day and therefore most of the other tenants were either at work or school right now. As the elevator rose, you tried to think of something to talk about. You didn’t mind quiet but your earlier anxiety about his reaction had been replaced by your more usual nerves at being around the man you had spent almost half a year pining over.

Nervous You tended to be a chatterbox with chronic foot-in-mouth disease. Nervous You might blurt out that you liked him. Might detail how you wanted to go on dates, snuggle on the couch, hold hands while you took long walks, call each other by cliché nicknames like honey or dear. Basically be one of those disgustingly adorable couples . . . And behind closed doors, mind-blowing sex. The kind of sex that would leave you walking funny with a big smile on your face . . .

That thought alone made your cheeks warm. Among other places. Maybe work? Work should be a safe enough topic. Nothing naughty about work . . .

“What brings you home this early?” you asked, injecting as much cheer as possible in your voice to disguise your nerves. “Does no one need lawyering today?”

He chuckled. “No, we still have plenty of people who needed lawyering. I just forget my phone this morning and this was the first chance I’ve had to retrieve it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as the elevator dinged your arrival to the sixth floor. The doors slide open and you walked out. Or rather you tried. But apparently you just had no luck with elevators today because you managed to slip on nothing. For the second time today, you started to fall. Only backwards this time.

And despite what happened the last time, Matt still caught you.

“Sorry,” you said, feeling the earlier flush to your cheeks deepen.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” he said. “I like having a beautiful girl in my arms.”

Which only made the warmth in your face start to spread down your neck. Even if he didn’t meant it, it was nice to be told that you were beautiful. You couldn’t help liking it. You did your best to ignore the nasty voice in your head – the one that sounded a lot like those awful girls in high school who had bullied you – saying how would Matt even know that you were beautiful or not . . . he was blind . . .

Your more optimistic side – which sounded like Serena – pointed out that for obvious reasons, that Matt was unlikely to find someone attractive based solely on their appearance . . . so maybe he really did find you beautiful . . .

You blamed those pernicious thoughts for making you feel like there was hint of hesitation, of reluctance, in Matt’s hands as they slide back off of your waist once you were standing upright again. But not matter how many times you told yourself that it was just your overactive imagination . . . part of you couldn’t help but hope.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Matt said as you followed him into his apartment. While he disappeared down a hallway, you propped your unfinished painting against a wall before slipping your tote off your shoulder with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t very heavy but those almost falls had jerked it and its contains around, making the straps dig into your shoulder. After sitting down the tote, you prodded the area. It was a little sore but it lacked the tenderness you associated with oncoming bruises.

You walked toward the kitchen and looked around, curious. In some respects, his apartment was a lot like yours. Both displayed the buildings’ previous life as factory in the exposed brick, scuffed hardwood floors, and visible HVAC and pipes. Both had large windows that let in a lot of natural light if even the old glass was a little wavy or different colored. Both had galley-style kitchens and generally open floor plan. Both of you seemed to have opted for a mismatched collection of secondhand furniture in either earth tones or neutral colors. But that was where the similarities ended.

The first and most noticeable difference was size. His was a lot bigger than yours. Which honestly you had expected, knowing very well that your side of the sixth floor had been turned into two units whereas his was left as one. Yours didn’t have access to the roof but in all honesty, you were fine with that. You weren’t afraid of high places in and of themselves but you were afraid of falling from high places. The outside of your windows wasn’t dominated by The Billboard. Which even during the day looked rather bright.

Matt’s apartment struck you as unfinished, like there was something missing but it took you a moment to figure out what. There was nothing decorative. The walls were bare and furniture were bare. It was sharp contrast to your place where the walls had been turned into a gallery for your unsold paintings and the furniture was festooned with the efforts of Serena’s knitting or your embroidery. You wondered if this was due to preference (Matt was simply a minimalist who considered decorative items to be annoying clutter) or to circumstance (Matt hadn’t found anything that he liked yet).

Another difference was the level of tidiness. You weren’t outright messy. You cleaned up after yourself. But there was always a certain amount of controlled chaos. For example, you were just as likely to find your pincushion and scissors on the kitchen table as in the sewing bag where they belonged. Or how your books often ended up stacked on the floor by your reading chair instead of being put back on the bookshelf.

Matt’s place, by contrast, looked very well organized. Everything obviously had a place and was always returned to its spot when not in use. Which made sense when you thought about it. No one wanted to go on a scavenger hunt every time they needed something. And given how busy Matt was, he also didn’t have time to be doing that.

Plus there were things that no one would want to get mixed up. Like grabbing the shampoo bottle when you wanted the mouthwash. Yes, there were other things that would clue him in before he inadvertently washed out his own mouth with soap. But, as your grandmother liked to say, an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.

“Will any soap work?”

You jumped at a little at Matt’s voice. He sounded close. Much closer than you would have thought he could get to you without you noticing. Especially on these old hardwood floors which had so many places that creaked or groaned when stepped on.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s . . .” you started as you turned toward the sound of his voice. And promptly felt your intended words get tangled up in your throat. Your heart began to race as blood rushed back to your cheeks at the sight before you.

Your eyes greedily took in his broad shoulders, then down arms so thick that you doubted that you would be able to fully wrap your hand around it. Back up and across to the well-defined pectorals, then down through to sculpted abdominals until they disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. All covered in a skin that looked like it was as soft as satin.

You swallowed hard. You had known for a while that Matt had some muscle. He had saved you from your own clumsiness too often for you not to know that. But this . . . you had no idea he was hiding all this under those fancy suits of his . . . It was like someone had brought the statue of a Greek god or Michelangelo’s David to life . . . and then someone had apparently convinced him to put on pants. Whoever that idiot was should be fired . . . because if the rest of him looked this good . . .

“Sweetheart?”

Once again, you jumped at his voice. You raised your eyes up to his face. Your breath caught for the second time. Because Matt wasn’t wearing his dark glasses. You had never seen him without those glasses. Predictably, his eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him. Big, brown eyes sparkling with amusement and confidence. It matched that cocky little smirk he was sporting. The same one he had given you earlier. Only this time, you were positive that he knew that you were staring.

But it was so hard not to . . . he was so beautiful . . . it filled with you competing urges. The artist longed for your drawing pencils and a couple of hours to sketch. You weren’t sure you had the talent to fully capture his beauty but you would love to try. The woman, however, wanted him to fuck you. For him be inside you. Cock, fingers, tongue . . . your cunt didn’t care which. Any or all of them would do.

Watching that pink tongue dart out from between those oh-so-kissable lips before disappearing back inside his mouth did nothing to quell your arousal. Nor did the almost hungry look in his eyes. All it did was make you think about all things a man could do with his tongue if he was so inclined . . .

You dug your hands into your jeans to keep them to yourself. Silently you reminded yourself why you had to control the later impulse. First – Matt wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your neighbor and maybe a friend. Second – even if you were his lover and consented to having sex, neither of you had time today. He needed to go back to his office and you had to be the cafe at three. Abby would understand you being late because you were helping Matt clean up The Magenta. She would be far less sympathetic toward hanky-panky induced tardiness. So as much as you would like him to bend you over his kitchen table, you had to ignore that particular desire.

As for the artistic urge . . . since he didn’t seem to hate you for The Magenta, maybe he would agree to model for you? And you were friends of a sort. Friends could ask friends to model for them, right?

“L-liquid soap,” you said, doing your best to sound normal instead of incredibly turned on. “I-I found it easier to work with when cleaning up paint.”

Matt didn’t look like he was convinced by your non-existent acting skills. But he went along with the change of subject. Then gave you another heart attack by revealing that his shirt and tie were silk while his jacket was wool with a silk lining. You had no idea how to clean paint off of those without damaging them . . . isn’t stuff like that dry clean only?

The answer was yes and no. The shirt was made of a type of washable silk that he could launder at home – on the gentle cycle with mild soap. The suit and the tie, however, were both dry clean only. But Matt knew how to prevent stains from getting set in his fancy clothes and you knew how to handle paint. Between the two of you, you worked a plan that should get the paint off while preventing damage to his clothes.

Using an old gift card that you used as a painting tool as a scrapper, you removed the bulk of the paint from the tie and jacket while Matt used his bottle of liquid dish-soap and water to wash his shirt in the sink. Then, you dampened a white washcloth with lukewarm water, added a tiny amount of the soap, before dabbing the affected areas. Before dabbing again with a separate cloth that was just dampened with water, then carefully blotting with another washcloth that was completely dry.

You tried to keep your mind on the task in front of you but kept getting distracted. By his . . . everything. You wanted to trace every muscle with your fingers. Or your tongue. Either would be enjoyable. Or both. Both was good . . . the only thing that wasn’t making you press your thighs together in an effort to relieve the ache in your cunt were the scars.

Not because you thought his scars were ugly. The scars were like kintsugi. The healed but visible damage made the person more beautiful, not less. But because the scars worried you. It looked like someone had tried very hard to kill Matt.

You hadn’t realized that being a lawyer was so dangerous . . . but then, Nelson & Murdock had gone up against some powerful people. People like Fisk. Had Fisk or someone like him sent someone after Matt? You glanced at his hands. He had the same calluses on his knuckles as your ex who was a boxer. Did Matt know how to box? Was that how he had survived the obvious attempt on his life?

You were curious but realized that some of the answers you wanted might require a lengthy conversation. Which you didn’t have time for. Assuming Matt was even willing to answer those questions. He might not be. Which was fine. Trauma was rather personal and you didn’t really know each other.

You returned to your task. Despite your frequent distraction, soon the clothes were cleaned to the best of your ability. All three items were hung on hangers to dry in the case of the shirt or await a trip to the dry cleaners for the other two. Something that you offered to pay for.

“No need for you to do that, sweetheart. It’s about time for that suit to go to the cleaners anyway.”

“But it’s my mess,” you protested.

You didn’t win the argument. But it wasn’t a fair fight. First, he was a lawyer. He argued with people for a living. You painted or served food and drinks. Second, he still hadn’t put on a shirt. It was very distracting. And he knew it. His opposition in court was so lucky that he had to keep all his clothes on in the courtroom. Otherwise, they’d might never win.

“Stupid, sexy Murdock,” you muttered quietly under your breath as you washed your brushes and palette. Not quietly enough because he laughed.

“I’m sexy?” Matt asked. Warmth flooded your face. Judging by that cocky smirk, he knew the answer to that question. Yes, absolutely yes. But you were absolutely not going to say that.

“I plead the Fifth,” you said. Which only made him laugh harder.

He opened his mouth, probably to tease you some more, when his phone started ringing out, “Foggy, Foggy, Foggy.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he said.

“Go ahead,” you said quickly.

He flashed you a smile before answering his phone with a “What’s up, Fogs?”

You put away your things while Matt talked to his partner. From the sound of it, he was explaining why retrieving his phone was taking so long. A check on your watch – now cleaned of paint – warned you that you really needed to leave now if you wanted to be ready for work on time. You swung your tote up onto your shoulder.

Then found yourself in a quandary. It was rude to interrupt someone while they were on the phone but it was also rude to leave without saying good-bye. But it wasn’t like you could go just wave good-bye.

“Matt?” you called out.

“Hang on Foggy,” he said, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got to go,” you said. “I’ll see you later?”

“You’ll have to. I can’t.”

For a moment, that answer confused you. But only for a moment. Blind joke. Not the first one he had made around you. It wouldn’t be the last. He seemed rather fond of them. Well, it was his disability. It certainly wasn’t your place to tell him that he couldn’t make jokes about it if he wanted to.

Besides sometimes the looks on people’s faces when he made them were very funny.

“Left myself wide open for that one, didn’t I?” you said.

“Yep,” he said. He looked very pleased with himself. “But yes, I’ll see you later.”

That made you smile. “Bye, Matt.”

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said before returning to his phone call. You closed the door to his apartment as quietly as you could, then made you way across the hall toward your own apartment. Time get for work.

Step one – a cold shower.

Notes

There are portable easels that are designed to be collapsed down and easily carried. I have one. Some of them come with an attached box that is meant to carry paint, brushes, and whatever else you need but that type is more expensive (about 70 dollars on the cheaper end) than one that is just the easel (which is about 20). Reader has a limited art budget and those fifty bucks she didn’t spent on an easel can buy a lot of paint and canvas.

I’ve found that tackle boxes and tool boxes make great carrying cases for arts and crafts supplies. The divided trays are very useful if the creative thing you are doing involves a lot of little pieces or tools like beading or jewelry making.

Reader took the subway for part of her journey because, according to what I could find, getting from Hell’s Kitchen to Central Park via subway takes about 14 minutes while walking that same distance would take about 40 minutes. So the subway it was.

Magenta is, generally speaking, purplish red color. The shades vary between more pink, more red, or more purple. Even paint doesn’t always agree. I have one set on acrylic paints that labels a color as ‘light magenta’ while a different set calls the same color ‘magenta’ and third just says ‘pink.’

Jackson Pollock (1912 – 1956) was an American artist who was part of the abstract expressionist movement. He is best known for his ‘drip’ technique where he would pour or splash liquid house-paint with frenetic movement onto the canvas which was laying flat on the floor. In some ways, his work reminds me of acrylic pouring which looks very cool but also very messy.

I mean no disrespect to those with an art degree. I started off majoring in fine arts and part of me wishes that I had stuck with it despite the challenges. One of my professors recommended getting your masters if you were going to major in art simply because then you could get teaching jobs in many places.

That contract thing is true but I’m not a lawyer and have never taken Contracts 101. Always get your legal advice from actual lawyers.

Turpentine is used to clean paint brushes and other tools when using oil paint. A low odor version is highly recommended but remember to only use it in a well-ventilated place as the fumes are toxic. It is also very flammable. You can use it to get oil paint off of your skin but it is very drying and probably isn’t be safe to use on places like your face. The skin there easily absorbs things (which is the primary reason that make-up has go through FDA approval).

For the record, blind people don’t have better senses than everyone else. They just pay more attention to the information from their other senses provide, things that us sighted people tend to ignore. And arguably have more practice identifying different sounds, smells, etc than someone who largely ignores that input.

While I cannot say that this happens in NYC, as I have never lived there, where I grew up (American southwest) and where I live now (Florida), the grandmas and aunties in the Latin community make and sell tamales during the winter holiday season. Maybe for some extra spending money for said holidays. In my experience, they are always excellent. I almost don’t consider it Christmas without some tamales.

The reason Reader feels like a jerk for tripping over Matt’s cane is that messing with someone’s mobility aid and/or not giving them enough space to use it is a dick move.

The Bow Bridge is a bridge in Central Park. You have probably seen it before since it is pretty popular for movies and television. Probably because it looks perfect for your sappy romantic moments, dramatic love confession, meet-cutes, etc. It also helps that it looks just as nice surrounded by leafy trees as it does covered in snow.

Bob Ross (1942 – 1995) was an American painter who was the host of an instructional art show called The Joy of Painting, which aired from 1983 until 1994, on PBS (public broadcasting station) in the US but also in similar public stations around the world. You can find the episodes on YouTube.

According to the internet, you can spot clean wool, silk, and other such fabrics like how Reader does without damaging the fabric. But it was the internet so take that with a generous portion of salt.

Yes, I do use an old gift card when I paint. To make smallish straight lines, very handy for fences and rain effects. I cannot speak for every artist but my painting tools aren’t limited to brushes and painting knives.

Kintsugi (“golden joinery”) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer that has been dusted or mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The point is not to hide the damage but highlight it, to treat the breakage and repair as simply part of the object’s history. And that having such a history makes it more valuable, not less.

#fan fic #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem! reader #matt murdock x you #happy little accident series

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neonghostlights · 7 months

Text

★ A/N: Y'all have no clue how long I've had this typed up and ready to go.

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★Warnings: Car accident, driving under the influence, hospitals, injuries, the fate of reader is unknown, 18 + only, minors DNI.

Please make sure you’ve read the previous chapter

Series Masterlist

Chapter Ten: A Terrible Accident

ROCKSTAR COLLIN TASER AND A-LIST ACTRESS GIRLFRIEND WERE IN A FIERY CRASH LATE SATURDAY NIGHT. Mixed reports have come in regarding the current state of the pair. Witnesses claim to have seen the couple drinking at a local LA night club before getting into a car together with Collin behind the wheel. “Something seemed wrong before they even left,” a waitress at the night club who asked not to be named told us. Witnesses have also stated the car was speeding and driving recklessly before the crash.

EDDIE MUNSON OF CORRODED COFFIN SEEN ARRIVING AT MEDICAL CENTER. The Corroded Coffin front man was spotted arriving at the hospital shortly after the crash. He refused to answer any questions while walking into the building. Previously, Eddie Munson and the actress were known for their friendship. Inside sources say they no longer are on speaking terms. We are currently trying to get in touch with Eddie’s team for a comment but have yet to receive one.

WASTED YEARS NEWS WENT ON SCENE AT THE CRASH SITE. Allegedly, the car that was occupied by the musician and actress crossed over the line and into the incoming traffic while going at a high rate of speed. The car then hit another before running off the road. Police and emergency services were on the scene immediately. The state of the couple is unknown at this time but multiple ambulances were seen leaving the scene.

ALCOHOL AND DRUGS ARE SUSPECTED TO BE A FACTOR. The couple is known for their frequent partying. According to LA police, alcohol and drugs are suspected to be a factor in the accident but it has yet to be confirmed. As of now, we know that things do not look good for all that were involved. We will know more after statements are finally made by the police and the celebrities teams.

Fans are currently holding a vigil for the pair outside of the hospital. Authorities and hospital higher ups are asking that fans give space so that emergency services and staff are able to enter the building.

When we know more we will update. We hope that everyone involved is okay.

-Felicity Cash, Journalist

Wasted Years News

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddiemunson x actress!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson

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daysofyellowroses · 2 months

Text

red rose

kerry von erich x afab!reader | 10.9k | 18+ minors dni | tw: mentions of death, language, some smutty implications

It wasn't exactly something you had planned for, certainly not at this stage of your life. Then again, life never did seem to work out the way you had expected. After a very happy and loving childhood and slightly turbulent but overall great teenage years, your world got turned upside down when you turned eighteen.

so i finally finished this, i did not expect it to be over 10k 🫢 i am already thinking i want to write a little part two for this, but i got a whole lot more to write before that! i hope you enjoy this, and if you perservere the whole way through i love you! 🫶🏻💗

🌼

The drive took hours, the immense heat didn't help the feeling of exhaustion that settled over you. It was a rare occasion that you drove back home to Denton from Austin, particularly in the last few years. Now you wouldn't just be visiting, you would be staying.

Your mom had been driving home from work when she got into a car accident, one which ultimately claimed her life. It left an empty space in your heart, one you felt could never be filled. Her death felt impossible to process, you couldn't do anything but feel totally numb. You hadn't cried when you were told by the doctors that she had passed away from her injuries. You hadn't cried when you went to her funeral. You couldn't, the tears wouldn't come. There was just a hollow void in you, you couldn't focus on anything.

After the funeral, you received an acceptance letter from college, which you ignored. You weren't in the right headspace for it, and despite your dad trying to convince you to go, you refused. That was when the guilt sunk in. Why should you get to go on with your life, have new experiences when your mom would never have that opportunity again?

Your dad withdrew into himself too, the two of you didn't talk and when you did it was to fight and argue, both unable to handle your grief.

You needed to get away, and planned to go to Dallas for a new start. That didn't pan out, so you headed to Austin instead, with a renewed determination to start over. And you did, you got yourself a place to stay, a job in a bar, and started getting back on your feet. Over time you got your own apartment and started working in a hair salon, doing basic jobs at first before deciding to professionally train.

After about six months you had gotten in contact with your dad again. It started slow, occasional phone calls or letters, then you visited one Christmas. You weren't super close, but he was the only other person in the world who loved your mom as much as you did, your tether to her. Then, a year or so ago, just when you had thought you were starting to really build a solid bond with your dad, he went quiet. Barely any calls, wouldn't let you visit.

You feared the worst when two months went by with no contact. The neighbors would have contacted you, you knew, but you still worried. Then you got a call from a stranger, who turned out to be your dad's nurse. She explained that he hadn't wanted you to worry, sympathizing when you said you only worried more if he was silent. There was a knot in your stomach when you asked what was wrong, trying not to imagine your dad slowly wasting away in front of you or losing his memories of your mother and you.

When the nurse informed you that your father had rheumatoid arthritis, the knot in your stomach loosened, but only slightly. You learned that the nurse could only visit your father three times a week, and his insurance didn't cover more care. So, you took the decision to give up your life in Austin and head back home to look after your dad.

The sun was just beginning to set when you drove down the familiar road, passing the few neighbors' houses. You turned eventually, heading down the long driveway. Your heart thudded as you spotted the large garage, dozens of cars dotted about in the yard. None of them had been worked on for a long while, you suspected, the owners no doubt not pushing for a quick return.

You drove up to the house, taking a deep breath as you parked your truck. You only took one suitcase up to the door with you, deciding to get the rest of your stuff later. Pushing the doorbell, you took a step back and glanced at the light blue bird feeder hanging by the door. Your mom would sit on the porch for hours and watch birds come and go, she always looked so peaceful when she did.

A few moments later, the door opened and revealed your father on the other side. Neither of you said anything, neither of you moved for a moment before you both stepped forward and wrapped your arms around each other.

“You didn't have to come,” Your father murmured, holding you close. “I'm fine.”

“I know you are,” You nodded, gently rubbing his back. “I wanted to come. Now let me get my things inside, I want this unpacking out of the way.”

Once you had taken your things up to your old bedroom and unpacked, you sat on the end of the bed for a moment. It had been a while since you'd visited, but you got the same feeling you did every time. The memories came back full force, from playing with barbies with your best friend to sneaking a boy in through your window late at night. The teddy bears, posters of bands and trophies had been put into storage but the bedsheets were the same ones you'd had as a teenager. There was still a cork board above the desk with faded concert tickets, photos and birthday cards pinned to it.

You made your way downstairs, finding your dad in the living room and letting him know you'd make dinner. It was easy, moving through the kitchen again. Every time you'd visited the muscle memory came back. It always stung a little that your mom wasn't there, singing along to the radio as she chopped vegetables, the knife moving in rhythm. She always made up her own lyrics when she couldn't remember the real ones, her version always stuck in your head when you heard the songs again.

Once dinner was ready, you brought the plate to your dad on a tray in the living room. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, the way he struggled with his knife. He didn't ask for help and you waited until he set his cutlery down in frustration before you quietly got up and cut up his dinner for him.

It was only when you were laying in bed later that night that you realized that things like that would be your life from now on. Parents look after their children, then children look after their parents years and years later. It felt too soon to be looking after your dad. He wasn't even retired yet, you weren't even thirty yet. But, life doesn't always go to plan.

In the morning, you thought you were dreaming when you woke up. It took a minute to adjust, to remind yourself you weren't just visiting. There was nowhere else to call home anymore. You took a shower and got dressed before making breakfast, having more small talk with your father. You noticed his shirt wasn't quite buttoned right but elected to ignore it.

“I'm gonna take a walk,” Your father informed you after breakfast. “the air is fre-”

“Freshest this time of day,” You smiled, giving him a nod. “I remember. I'm gonna clean up, is Carla coming today?”

“Tomorrow,” Your father replied, clearing his throat. “She comes on different days each week. She covers a big area.”

“I see,” You nodded, watching your father for a moment before clearing the plates. “Well I got this under control. Enjoy your walk.”

Once you'd cleaned the kitchen, you decided to do the rest of the house too. It wasn't bad, just needed a little sprucing up. When you got to your dad's bedroom you took a breath before walking in. Your mom's things weren't there anymore, they had been put away into storage, but her presence was still there. As you made the bed you thought about all the times you'd climbed into your parents bed after a nightmare, the birthdays and mother's days you'd take your mom a tray, feeling so proud when she told you she loved it.

When you were vacuuming, you glanced out the window and spotted a figure heading into the garage, unable to make them out clearly. You made your way out of the house and over to the garage, the air already feeling hot.

“Hello?” You called, holding your hand over your forehead to shield your eyes as you turned into the garage. “Can I..”

You let out a sigh as you spotted your father leaning over the hood of a truck, lowering your arm.

“Dad, what are you doing?” You asked, walking over and folding your arms. “You told me you were taking a walk.”

“I was,” Your dad nodded, looking over to you as he gestured to the truck. “Then I remembered I had this sitting in here. I gotta get it back by tomorrow, Ed’s gonna need it.”

You took a deep breath, slowly lowering your arms and stepping closer to the truck.

“If it really needs to be fixed by tomorrow, then let me do it.”

“Let you do it?” Your father repeated, a concerned look on his face. “I couldn't ask you to do that.”

“Then good thing you're not asking,” You smiled. I'm a little rusty but you can just give some guidance if I'm going wrong. I didn't spend half my teen years here for nothing.”

“Well, if you're up for it,” Your father nodded, taking a step back. “Give it a whack.”

An hour or so later, you popped the key in the ignition and let out a cheer when the truck started. Your dad stood up from where he'd been sitting, walking over to the window.

“Well look at that,” He smiled, opening the car door for you. “You never lost it.”

“Apparently not,” You grinned, turning off the ignition. “I can drop this over to Ed, if you want?”

“If you want,” Your dad nodded, looking down at his shirt and frowning slightly before looking back to you. “You'd be doing me a favor really. He said he wasn't in a rush but..I don't want to delay him.”

“Okay, I'll drop it over,” You nodded. “I'll pick something up for dinner, too. Do you need anything else?”

Your dad thought for a moment before shaking his head and gently patting the door of the truck.

“I'm all good. I'll let you get off.”

“Alright, I'll see you later.” You smiled, closing the door and starting up the truck. You presumed Ed lived exactly where he always had, and honestly you were a little amazed he was still alive. When you were a child he was about a hundred years old, god only knew what miracle was keeping his heart ticking.

When you were out on the road, you lowered the windows and turned on the radio, enjoying the fresh air as you sang along to the music.

‘So smile for a while and let's be jolly, love shouldn't so melancholy, come along and share the good times while we can..’

When you arrived in town, you drove to Eds's first, parking up outside and looking up at his house. The place hadn't changed in probably 50 years, not so much as a paint job. You took the keys and headed to the front door, pushing the door bell before taking a step back.

After a few minutes, a woman you didn't recognise opened the door and you wondered if you'd somehow gotten the wrong house. She certainly didn't resemble Ed, with her kind eyes, warm smile and curly brown hair. Ed looked like Mr. Magoo on a bad day.

“Hi,” You smiled, gesturing over your shoulder to Eds's truck. “I'm looking for Ed Hicks, I'm dropping off his truck.”

“That thing,” The woman rolled her eyes with a smile. “He shouldn't even be driving it, yet he still gets it dropped for repairs. Come on in darling, he's here.”

You followed the woman inside, heading into a living room that looked like it should have been in a shack in the woods. In the corner, Ed was sitting on an armchair watching the TV, looking exactly as you'd remembered him.

“You got a visitor Ed,” The woman told Ed, raising her voice. “This young lady has come to drop your truck back. Don't tell me you've been driving again?”

“Nope, cross my heart,” Ed patted his chest before looking over to you. His eyes were so pale you were amazed he could see you but he recognised you right away.

“You back at your daddy's then?” Ed asked once you'd walked over and shaken his hand, giving him a nod.

“Yes, I am,” You told him. “He was busy so I thought I'd drop your truck back, needed to head into town anyway. How have you been, Mr. Hicks?”

“Oh you know me,” Ed shrugged, looking back to the TV. “I get by. Still waiting for this one to marry me though,” He gestured to the woman. “any day now.”

The woman laughed affectionately as she shook her head.

“Stop it you, you old charmer. Now I need to get going, you need anything else?”

“I'm all good, you get yourself gone,” Ed waved his hand. “I got my stories.”

You said your goodbyes and left the house with the woman, turning to her as she closed the door.

“I know this sounds a little strange, but your voice is really familiar,” You raised a brow. “Have we met?”

The woman looked at you for a moment before nodding and smiling, folding her arms.

“I was thinking the same thing, we most certainly talked recently. I'm Carla, I'm a nurse, I do a lot of home visits around here.”

“Carla..of course,” You smiled. “I think you look after my dad?” You gave her the details and noticed her face lit up a little as she nodded.

“I certainly do,” She smiled. “So you must be the daughter he's so proud of,” She grinned. “You know I gotta say, it is really admirable what you're doing. If I could, I'd be out at your dad's more but..I can just about manage to hold onto the days I do have.”

The two of you walked down the porch steps and towards the curb, stopping by a little red car.

“You need a ride somewhere?” Carla asked, opening her purse and taking our her keys. “I've got another visit but I can take you somewhere if you need.”

“I just need to go to the supermarket, if that's okay?” You asked, deciding to worry about getting home later.

“Of course,” Carla nodded, unlocking her car. “Hop on in.”

You got in the car and put on your seat belt, looking over to Carla as she started the engine.

“Can I ask you something, if you don't mind?”

“Of course you can honey,” Carla smiled, looking over to you before looking back and pulling away from the curb. “What's on your mind?”

You looked out the window, taking a deep breath.

“My dad..it's bad, isn't it? His condition? Like..I know a lot of people function just fine with arthritis but I've noticed little things he can't do anymore.”

Carla let out a soft sigh, her hand gently touching your arm.

“I won't lie to you darling, your dad's arthritis is severe, in fact..the hospital wants to run more tests just in case he might be developing Parkinson's. You came at a good time, he's going to need the extra help.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, keeping your eyes on the world outside the window. “I think I did. It just feels..strange. How do you do it every day? Look after people, see them become frail in front of you?”

“Well I love my work,” Carla replied, gently squeezing your arm before letting go. “It feels like I'm making a difference. You'll get that feeling, it just takes time. And your dad isn't so frail, he just needs more time to accept his limitations. It hasn't been easy on him.”

“I know,” You nodded, looking over to Carla. “I'm sorry I haven't been around much, but I'm glad you've been looking after him. He can be a little stubborn about accepting help but I hope he hasn't been too difficult.”

“He's been a dream,” Carla smiled. “I know that he's frustrated that he can't do all the things he used to, but he's getting a little better at accepting it every day. The hardest part seems to be work. He keeps telling me he's gonna get back out to the yard and fix up all the trucks but..it's just not possible.”

You nodded before looking back out the window, the familiar sights flashing by.

“I found him by Eds's truck this morning, I told him I'd do it and let him tell me what to do but..I could tell he wanted to be doing it himself.”

“Well that's not a bad thing,” Carla looked over to you. “He may not be able to work himself but if he feels like he's contributing then that might ease the disappointment. Are you a mechanic yourself?”

You smiled to yourself as you shook your head, glancing over to Carla.

“No, I'm a hairdresser. I used to help my dad out in the yard when I was a teenager, picked up some things. I never really thought of it as a job, more just a hobby.”

“Hobby or not,” Carla raised a brow, gently touching your arm. “Might be something to think about. Is here okay to drop you off hun?”

“Perfect,” You nodded, glancing at the window. “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime,” Carla smiled. “I'll be out at yours tomorrow, see you then.”

The afternoon passed by quick enough, you got a coffee in the diner, made small talk with people you knew in another life, went to the supermarket, bumped into one of the neighbors who offered you a ride home. It was like you'd never left, the familiarity sinking into your bones.

Your dad was watching TV when you got home, a sight you never thought you'd see on a warm afternoon. You made your way to the kitchen, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach as you unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner. You turned the radio on, humming along to the music as you moved about the kitchen with ease. When you were plating up dinner, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you got a knife and fork to cut up your dad's food. It was spaghetti, which made it easier to disguise that it had been cut, but you knew you'd have to keep doing it.

You took the plates into the living room, placing a tray on your dad's lap before sitting down yourself.

“How was town?” Your dad asked, picking up his fork and glancing over to you. “Anybody about?”

“A couple,” You nodded, dipping your fork into your pasta and pushing it around a little. “Nobody too exciting.”

“Ah, never is,” Your dad shrugged, looking back to the TV. “Oh turn up the volume, the match is coming on.”

You reached for the remote, raising the volume and glancing over to your dad.

“What match?”

“Wrestling,” Your dad explained, pointing to the TV. “David's making his debut tonight. Should be a good one.”

“Oh,” You raised a brow, looking back to the TV. “I didn't know he was getting into wrestling..does Kevin still do it?”

“Sure does,” Your dad nodded. “He's good too. Reckon he'll be even better now with his brother on side.”

You sat back a little, your eyes watching the screen as the presenter explained the upcoming bout. When it cut to a reporter standing with Kevin and David Von Erich, you couldn't help but smile. They looked so different from when you had last seen them, but they still had that familiarity, a boyish charm.

When David looked down the camera lens and gave a warning to the opponent, you bit your lip slightly, smiling to yourself as your Dad praised him. The match was fun to watch, your dad's enthusiasm made you think of how he was when you were a child, his passion and support for the things he loved shining through. The last thing you wanted was for him to lose that joy, to have things in his life that brought him happiness.

The actual wrestling didn't interest you all that much, but it was entertaining and fun to see Kevin and David show off their skills, raise their arms triumphantly when they won.

“What did I tell you? They got something special there,” Your dad looked over to you. “You know, you should pop over and visit them one of these days. They'd love to see you.”

“Maybe,” You nodded, getting up and placing your tray on the coffee table. “I have things to do so..I'll have to see when I got some time.”

You gathered up your dad's tray, taking the dishes out to the kitchen and resting them on the counter. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried to clear your mind, not wanting to give certain memories an outing.

You focused on cleaning the kitchen, taking your dad a beer when you went back to the living room.

“Just the one,” You smiled, sitting down on the couch. “So don't get too excited.”

“I won't,” Your dad laughed, shaking his head. Hell, even if I wanted another one I couldn't. Carla..the nurse,” He corrected himself, clearing his throat. “She can always tell. Scolds me something terrible.”

“Well she's just doing her job,” You shrugged, sitting back against the couch and smiling as you looked at your dad and noticed the slight smile on his face.

“She means well.”

“Mm, she does.” Your dad nodded, picking up his newspaper from the arm of his chair and slowly opening it, his face particularly obscured but not enough to hide his smile.

“Just gotta remember that sometimes.”

“I met her today, actually,” You glanced to your dad as you said it, watching as he didn't look away from the paper but didn't turn the page either. “She said she was coming by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, she will be,” Your dad nodded. “I saw it on the calendar.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, sitting back and reaching for the remote to find something new.

The next morning, you woke up naturally and stretched slowly in your bed as you glanced to the window. You had left the curtains half open, the warm sunlight filtering into the room. After taking some time to get up, you made your way downstairs and paused in the doorway of the kitchen as you spotted your father sitting at the table reading the paper. It wasn't so much what he was doing but how he looked, with his carefully gelled hair and good brown suit. His shirt was buttoned properly and you felt guilty for wondering how long it would have taken him, if you should have knocked on his door and offered help.

“Morning dad,” You raised a brow, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. “You're looking snappy. Don't tell me I forgot your birthday?”

“Nah course not,” Your dad laughed softly, shaking his head. “It's just polite to dress for company.”

“Of course,” You nodded, smiling as you put on some coffee. “I'm sure company always appreciates it.”

You watched the machine brew for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking over to your dad.

“I was thinking..maybe today I could take a look at more of those trucks in the yard.”

“Hm? Why would you want to do that?” Your dad asked, and the knot in your stomach returned as you went to put on some toast.

“Because,” You began, popping two slices of bread in the toaster. “I enjoyed it. And-” You stopped yourself from speaking the words you knew your dad didn't want to hear.

‘Because you can't anymore.’

“I need something to keep me occupied,” You continued, looking over to your dad. I'll probably only get started on one truck but I want to dust off my old skills. You didn't teach me to waste them right?

“Right,” Your dad nodded after a moment, lowering his paper. “You're right..if you want to take a look I won't stop you.”

After breakfast you took a shower and got dressed in a simple blue sundress, glancing out the window as you heard a car approach. You smiled as you saw it was Carla's, heading out of your room and down the stairs. Your dad was in the living room, pacing back and forth a little until the doorbell rang and he rushed to answer it.

“Morning sweetheart,” Carla smiled at your dad after he greeted her, the smile on his face wider than you'd seen for a long while. “Don't tell me I forgot your birthday?”

As Carla was running through some medical checks with your dad, you went out to the yard and made your way to the garage. You took a set of keys and found the truck it belonged to before getting into the garage. The radio was turned on, there was some shelter from the already immense heat, and you soon found yourself getting back into the swing of mechanics. A little while later you were under the hood when you heard a truck coming up the drive. You figured it would be a drop off, possibly just a courtesy one. No doubt the whole town knew about your father's condition.

When the truck door opened and closed and you heard multiple voices, you ducked out from under the hood and grabbed a cloth to wipe your hands, immediately dropping it in shock when you saw who was walking towards the garage.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked excitedly, rushing forward and wrapping your arms around Kevin Von Erich when you got close enough. He laughed and gave you a tight hug back, each of you holding each other's arms as you pulled apart.

“I can't believe it,” You grinned. “It's been..well a long time.”

“Too long,” Kevin smiled, his eyes shining. “We were so sorry not to be here for your last visit.”

You waved your hand, smiling as you looked up at Kevin.

“Don't be silly. You big shot wrestlers have busy schedules, I get it. Caught you on the TV last night, almost couldn't believe my eyes.”

“You wouldn't be the only one!”

You laughed as Kevin turned around with a playful frown, your smile growing as you spotted Mike. You gently squeezed Kevin's arm before rushing over to Mike, his arms wrapping around you and swaying with you as you hugged him back.

“You are not Michael Von Erich,” You teased as you pulled back, raising a brow. “you're way too grown up. Look at you!”

“Aw come on I ain't changed that much,” Mike grinned, the tips of his ears growing pink. “It's just been a minute. It's so good to see you.”

“Don't I get a hug?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving Mike a wink as you stepped aside and folded your arms.

“I don't know,” You shrugged, raising a brow. “You're a real big mouth hot shot wrestler now, you really need the girl next door hugging you?”

“Yes, right this second.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled widely as you rushed forward, David's arms immediately wrapping around you and lifting you up as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When he set you down carefully, he gave you a wink and you gave him one back, stepping back and turning to Kevin and Mike.

“What brings you all over? I know it ain't that truck.”

The Von Erichs looked at each other for a moment before looking back at you, Kevin clearing his throat.

“Well we heard you were back in town, and..that it's more permanent this time. We were sorry to hear about your dad, hopefully he's doing okay.”

You looked at the three men in front of you for a moment, smiling as you folded your arms.

“Damn, word travels fast. Was it Ed?”

“Ed.” They chorused, making you laugh.

“Of course,” You nodded, dropping your arms. “Well I am back, and thank you, my dad's doing well. He's got his nurse with him today so..all good.”

“Hope it's not rude to ask if you want to come over for dinner some time?” Mike asked, resting his hands in his back pockets. “and your dad, of course. Mom keeps insisting.”

“So I really can't say no then,” You smiled. “That would be great, really.”

“Perfect,” David grinned, walking over to you and slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

“How could I,” You grinned, resting your hand on David's back. “I've had your mom's cooking before.”

“Amen to that,” David grinned. “Listen, what are you up to later?”

“You tell me,” You raised a brow, looking up at David with a grin. “Do I need to cancel my plans?”

“Absolutely,” David nodded, looking serious for a moment before grinning. “I'm taking you out for a burger, we're catching up properly.”

So, a few hours and one fixed up transmission later, you took another quick shower before changing into a clean t-shirt and jeans. Your dad was in an extremely chipper mood after Carla's visit, and you promised him you would be back in time to make dinner.

When David pulled up outside the house in his truck you felt like a teenager again, skipping down the porch steps and getting in beside him.

“Right on time,” You grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “That a new habit?”

“Not the only one,” David grinned, turning the truck around and heading down the driveway. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” You nodded, sitting back and turning up the radio a little, singing along under your breath.

‘Go lightly from the ledge, babe, go lightly on the ground, I'm not the one you want, babe, I'll only let you down..’

You smiled as David turned up the radio, the two of you singing together as he drove towards town.

‘You say you're looking for someone, who'll promise never to part, someone to close his eyes to you, someone to close his heart, someone to die for you and more, but it ain't me, babe, no, no, no, it ain't me, babe, it ain't me you're looking for, babe..’

When David parked up in town, you were laughing at some silly joke he'd made, wondering if there would be any moment where you didn't feel seventeen again. You both headed into the diner, sliding into a red leather booth you'd sat in countless times in your life.

“I don't need to look at this, but it feels polite.” You plucked the menu from its metal stand and opened it, smiling as the wave of nostalgia hit you. Your mom taking you for a milkshake after school, hanging out with friends, one order of fries between six of you, and of course being there with the boys next door.

“I don't think you can beat a cheeseburger,” David grinned, sitting back and tilting his head slightly as he watched you read the menu. “I mean why would you not want a classic?”

“To be adventurous,” You teased, putting your menu back. “Try something other than a cheeseburger, chili fries and a coke. Unless you updated your order since we were last here?”

“Hey I know what I like,” David grinned, giving you a wink. “And like you ain't gonna order a chili dog and a strawberry shake.”

“Why would you not want a classic?” You grinned, laughing as David rolled his eyes playfully.

“Fair enough,” He nodded, glancing around the diner and sitting up a little. You were about to say something when two girls appeared at your table, probably just about twenty one. They blushed as they asked David for an autograph, giggling when he winked at them, handing back the flowery notebook.

“You're really famous now,” You grinned, gesturing to where the girls had stood. “you'll have a fan club next.”

“You could be the president of it,” David smiled, resting his arm along the back of his seat. “Give out all the buttons with my face on them.”

“Wow, you haven't thought about this at all, huh?” You teased, sitting up a little as the waitress came over. You both ordered your classics, choosing to let it slide.

“Oh you know who I met yesterday?” You raised a brow, looking over to David. “Nancy Moss, who apparently still hates my guts even though I ain't seen her since high school.”

“She hates you?” David raised a brow. “Nah, she never hated you.”

You shook your head, sitting back and holding your hands up. “She did, and still does.”

“I don't get it,” David frowned. “Why would she hate you?”

"Because of you," You grinned, pointing over to him. "I think she was jealous."

David looked surprised, glancing around for a moment before leaning on the table and meeting your eyes.

"Jealous? Of what? It's not like you and I ever dated. Not.." He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed in an endearing way. “not technically, anyway.."

"I think that annoyed her more," You shrugged, resting your arms on the table. "We weren't a couple but I got to ride around in your truck, I was always at your house, you were sneaking into my bedroom at night.."

"You were the one sneaking me in," David held up his hand with a grin. "how would she even know about that anyway?"

You shrugged with a smile, resting your hand on your cheek. "I may have said some things that she overheard, not my fault if she was eavesdropping."

“Oh I see,” David grinned, sitting back and gesturing to himself. “Bragging about me huh? Can't say I blame you.”

“In your dreams,” You rolled your eyes with a grin, sitting up as the waitress brought your drinks. You thanked her before sliding your glass closer, lightly swirling the straw in the thick pink liquid.

“How are your parents by the way?” You asked, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“They're good,” David nodded, clearing his throat and sliding his glass closer. “Thanks. We're all good. You should definitely come by, they'd love to see you.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, lifting your straw and slowly dropping it, taking a deep breath. “I'll definitely try and drop by.”

“Good,” David nodded, taking a sip of his drink before leaning a little closer and reaching out to touch your arm. “Oh you know what? You should come to the Sportatorium on Saturday night, bring your dad. We got a big match coming up.”

“That I can't object to,” You smiled, meeting David's eyes. “My dad will be beside himself with excitement.”

“That's great,” David. “So will you be when you see me do my thing.”

“Oh I've seen your thing many times,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Hope it's as good as I remember.”

When you arrived back home, you felt like you were riding on a high. The afternoon had been easy and fun, you couldn't remember when you had laughed so much. You said goodbye to David and went inside the house, finding your dad in the living room reading the evening paper.

“Hey,” You smiled, walking in and sitting down on the couch. “How was your day?”

“Hey darlin’,” Your dad smiled, setting the paper down in his lap. “It was alright, Carla left that for you,” He gestured to a white envelope on the coffee table. “tried to sweet talk her into letting me read it myself but my charms need some polishing I guess.”

“I'll get you a cloth,” You laughed softly, leaning forward to pick up the envelope. “I don't know why she'd leave me something.”

“I don't either,” Your dad sighed, looking down at his paper. “Anyway, how was your date?”

“Date? It wasn't a date,” You grinned, opening the envelope. “Just two old friends catching up.”

You peeled open the envelope and took out the letter inside, your heart sinking a little when you heard your dad mutter ‘that's right, it was the other one.’

“Oh this is nothing, just her contact details in case of an emergency,” You smiled, folding the paper back up. “I'm gonna freshen up then start dinner.”

“Alright sweetheart, take your time.” Your dad nodded, picking his paper back up as you left the room, holding the envelope to your chest.

You made your way upstairs, heading into your bedroom and sitting on the end of your bed. Taking a moment, you let out a breath before taking the letter back out from the envelope. Technically you hadn't lied, Carla's details were indeed on the letter, just written above the rest of it. As it turned out, your father would have to be taken into hospital the following week for some tests, and Carla felt (accurately) it would be better to tell him closer to the time, but didn't want you to be surprised.

Once you had carefully folded the letter back up and hidden it in your room, you went to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, trying to push the thought of hospitals from your mind.

A couple of hours later, you placed a tray on your father's lap and sat down on the couch, looking over to the TV.

“Oh I forgot to say, I got some invites for you,” You smiled. “David invited us next door for dinner, and he's gonna get us tickets for the match next Saturday.”

“You're kidding?” Your dad held the remote in mid air as he looked over to you. “In the Sportatorium? Well, I'll be damned. You thank that boy for me won't you? I can't believe it. Oh just wait til I tell Earl.”

You laughed softly, picking up your own tray from the coffee table and setting it on your lap.

“I wasn't sure about dinner at theirs,” You began, taking a breath. “We don't have to go if you don't want.”

“Don't be silly,” Your dad looked over to you, setting the remote on the arm of his armchair. “Of course we can go. Fritz and Doris are old friends, and good neighbors. Why wouldn't we..” He stopped himself, looking back to the TV and letting out a sigh, his hand moving to his neck.

“I uh..I believe not all the boys still live at home. Some of ‘em went off, training..”

“I see,” You nodded, keeping your eyes on the TV and trying to keep your heartbeat steady. “In that case I'll tell David we'd be delighted.”

The week seemed to pass slowly, not that you objected. You spent most days out in the garage working on the various cars and trucks, finding yourself enjoying it more and more. Sometimes your dad would come out and give you instructions you didn't need, but followed anyway. You cooked, cleaned, made sure your dad had his good clothes for when Carla visited. You watched his eyes light up when she laughed at his corny jokes. She called you sweetheart and thanked you at least three times for a cup of coffee. You went into town, you noticed people stopped asking how long you were visiting for. Everyone sent their regards to your father.

One evening you and your dad visited the Von Erichs for dinner. It felt like old times instantly, your dad and Fritz putting the world to rights while Doris insisted you didn't need to help with the dishes but gave you all the gossip when you did. Kevin told you about a girl he was seeing, and you already couldn't wait to meet her. Mike invited you to a gig, and you promised you'd go. David constantly took the seat next you and made you laugh so much you ached.

The evening after, you had gone into town with Kevin and David to meet Pam, Kevin's girlfriend. You adored her instantly, the two of you clicking right away. You hadn't intended to get drunk, but you were having a good time and the drinks kept appearing and you didn't object. When one of the bars you visited was having a karaoke night, you and Pam were up on the stage before the alcohol-induced confidence could fade.

‘Look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hypnotized, he'll take your heart and you must pay the price, look into his angel eyes, you'll think you're in paradise, and one day you'll find out he wears a disguise, don't look too deep into those angel eyes’

By the time Mike came to pick you all up, you were wrapped around David to steady yourself, the world spinning on a loop. You struggled not to fall asleep on the ride home, resting your head on David's shoulder and focusing on the feeling of his hand on your shoulder.

When you got home, David took you inside to make sure you got to bed safely, your eyes closing the second your head hit the pillow.

“I had fun tonight,” You murmured softly, turning onto your side and letting out a sigh. “tell me ‘m fun.”

David laughed softly beside you, his hand gently touching your hair. “You're very fun. And a heck of a lot more.”

“Yeah?” You sighed softly, pulling the blanket up a little. “Then..then why wasn't I enough for him?”

“Hey,” David’s voice was soft and made you want to sleep. “don't be worrying about all that, you hear me? That's all over now. It was all just..a misunderstanding. You need to get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow.”

By the time Saturday came around, you were feeling pretty good, greeting your dad when you went into the kitchen for breakfast. You could have sworn he hid some of his paper but couldn't be sure, there was no reason for him to. You moved about the kitchen getting breakfast ready, unable to shake the feeling your dad was hiding something.

You waited until he went to get dressed, looking under the table and finding a slightly scrunched up piece of newspaper on the floor. You picked it up and smoothed it out, trying to see what would be so offensive. Heatwave incoming, American athletes to withdraw from the Olympics, Cowboys win game, nothing to write home about. You left the paper back where you found it before cleaning up the kitchen, your suspicions melting away.

The evening came around quick, and you were looking forward to seeing the match. Your dad seemed a little quiet, to your surprise. He'd been so excited all week, now when it was time to go he didn't seem as enthusiastic. You didn't push it, especially when he didn't say anything about it.

The Sportatorium was already bustling with activity when you got there and parked up, feeling excited for the night ahead. You went in with your dad, finding your seats and smiling when he seemed to relax more.

It was halfway through the match when you saw him.

At first you thought you were just seeing things, imagining it. Imagining him.

But he was there, sitting in the front row with Mike, cheering on his brothers.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You could hear your dad cheer beside you, the crowd going wild as a body slammed down on the mat.

You watched the rest of the match and refused to look anywhere else but the ring, wanting to run away more than anything.

When the match ended, you told your dad you weren't feeling well, needing to get out of the arena as quickly as possible. You felt like you couldn't breathe until you got into your truck, wanting to crawl into your bed and forget the world.

Your dad gave an enthusiastic debrief on the way back home, and you felt guilty for not sharing his excitement. When you got home you went up to your room and leaned against the door for a moment. You felt sick, your heart pounding in your chest. After getting ready for bed, you opened up the wooden chest at the end of your bed, rooting through it and eventually pulling out your last high school yearbook.

Taking it into bed, you opened the book and looked through the photos of your old classmates, smiling at some of the quotes, laughing at the others. You flipped to the back of the book, where your friends had written messages on the white pages. You traced your finger over them, smiling to yourself until you found it.

There it was, in black and white.

‘I love you now & always, can't wait to spend forever with you ❤️ KVE’

“Fucking liar.” You muttered, slamming the book shut and flinging it down to the end of your bed.

The following morning you didn't want to leave your bed, a restless night leaving you exhausted. You reluctantly got up and got ready, already dreading what was to come. You went downstairs and met your dad in the kitchen, the two of you heading out to your truck.

“I know you hid something from me,” You told your dad as you started your truck. “I wasn't sure why at first but now I know. And I'm grateful, but I can't avoid him forever. He's back, I saw him last night. He's going to be there today, and we will talk to him because we are good neighbors, and I don't want to embarrass you by causing a scene.”

Your dad was quiet for a moment, and you could feel your heart racing. Eventually, he silently reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I'm proud of you sweetheart, always will be,” He murmured softly. “You can do this.”

When you got to church, you wanted to be anywhere else, especially when you spotted David's truck. You walked into the building with your dad, putting on a smile and making your way up the aisle. You spotted the Von Erichs right away, giving them a polite nod as you walked by, feeling your stomach drop as you realized the only free seats were in front of them. Your dad walked down the pew first, your heart racing as you felt eyes on you. You sat down, almost anticipating a hand on your shoulder, blue eyes burning into yours.

The service seemed to last forever, you wanted desperately to just turn and run, feeling trapped like a deer in headlights. When the reverend finally ended his sermon, you followed your dad outside and made polite conversation after polite conversation. Eventually you couldn't put it off anymore, and you found yourself with the Von Erichs. You felt like they were all looking at you like you were about to attack, electing to put on your brightest smile and stepping closer to Kerry.

“Well hey stranger,” You gave him a hug, feeling him hesitate for a moment before he hugged you back and the familiarity could have killed you. “It's so good to see you again.”

You pulled away, taking a step back as your dad greeted Kerry, your hand hammering in your chest. David gave you a reassuring smile and Kevin subtly squeezed your arm. After some small talk, you made your way to your truck with your dad. Neither of you said a word until you were back home and in the kitchen. You'd gone to put on some coffee and burst into tears.

Your dad immediately wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back and holding you close.

“It's okay darlin’,” He murmured, letting out a sigh. “Your mama wasn't shy with the truth, and you know how she knew things about us we didn't even know? She knew all about you. She told me, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.”

“It's okay,” You whispered, pulling back and wiping away your tears. “It was a long time ago. I just..I just want to forget about it.”

“Alright darlin’,” Your dad nodded, letting out a sigh. “Come on, you need some rest.”

He refused to listen to your protests, taking you to the living room and draping a blanket over you as you got on the couch. You wanted to insist you were fine but all you could do was wrap the blanket around yourself and close your eyes.

You were dimly aware of noises around you, your dad reading the paper, the radio playing in the background. A dog barking in the distance. At one point, just as you were drifting between sleep and wakefulness, you could have sworn you heard voices in the hallway.

‘Please sir, I just need to talk to her.”

‘It's not a good time right now.’

The next day, you went out to the garage after breakfast and focused on fixing things you could salvage. Your dad hadn't confirmed your suspicions there had been a visitor the day before, and you didn't ask. Part of you wanted it to be true, and you hated yourself for that desire.

The sun was high in the sky when you heard footsteps approaching, reaching for a clean rag to clean your hands.

“Almost done, I'll be in to make lunch in a second.”

“Hi.”

You took a deep breath as you heard the voice, clutching the rag in your hands before turning and seeing Kerry standing at the entrance to the garage.

“Why didn't you just drive over?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and walking back to the truck in the middle of the garage.

“I wanted some fresh air.”

“Well now that you've had it you can go home,” You sighed, feeling your hands tremble slightly. “Sorry to make you waste a trip.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Kerry told you, walking closer. “I need to talk to you.”

“Who says I want to talk to you?” You sighed, keeping your eyes on the engine.

“Please just let me explain,” Kerry sighed. “You see, I-”

“Explain what?” You interrupted, stepping back and looking over to Kerry. “That you're sorry? You never meant to hurt me, you wish you could take it back, you've lived in regret, blah blah blah. Bullshit. Save your breath.”

Kerry was silent for a moment, keeping his eyes on you before he looked away and nodded.

“I understand that you're upset, but-”

“Oh, you understand,” You scoffed, placing your hands over your heart. “That makes me feel so much better, you understand. If you understood then you wouldn't have done what you did. You never even gave me an answer, you know that? One minute we're planning our future, you're telling me you love me, we're forever, we're going to start a new life. The next minute I'm standing right here waiting for you and you never show. Then I hear you're gone. You're with her and you're heading off to start a future with her. How the fuck could you possibly understand how I feel?”

“David,” Kerry replied. His tone was soft but there was a hardness in his eyes. “That is how I understand. I thought that was all over between you, then I heard you two got back together after our graduation. I took it as you choosing him over me, I had to protect myself.”

“Am I seriously hearing this?” You laughed, shaking your head. “Some idiot told you I was with David and you just believed it?”

“Can you blame me?” Kerry muttered. “Not like you didn't have previous. I wasn't gonna sit around waiting for you again.”

You felt something inside you snapped, and you stormed over to Kerry with a fire in your eyes.

“How dare you say that to me?!” You snapped. “As if you ever sat around waiting for me, don't make me laugh. I was the one sitting around waiting for you to open your eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Kerry frowned, his voice raising slightly as he stepped forward, his tone growing harsh. “Was this before or after you fucked my brother?”

You took a deep breath, holding Kerry's gaze.

“Don't you dare, Kerry Von Erich, throw that in my face. You never fucked anyone? Not my best friend, not every girl that was throwing herself at you? And not that it's any of your fucking business,” You held your hand up. “But the only reason David and I started doing anything was because you had stood me up again and he was consoling me. I have been in love with you since I was thirteen years old, and I thought I was destined to be your friend forever. If I couldn't have you then David was the next best thing. But I couldn't officially date him because I knew you'd never want me then. Then I did get you, I finally fucking got you and you saw me, and I..”

You stopped yourself as you felt tears welling up, trying to push them away.

“I couldn't believe my luck, I wanted to believe that we could be together forever, you made me feel so loved and so safe and happy then you just ripped it all away. I..I can't deal with this,”

You stormed past Kerry, the tears fully flowing. He called after you, tried to grab your arm but you pulled it away. You could hear him following you, trying to talk to you. You blocked it out, heading up the porch and into the house. Heading into the kitchen, you got yourself a glass of water and tried to calm yourself down.

“Please just let me explain,” Kerry pleaded behind you, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. “I swear I never meant to hurt you.”

You set your glass down, turning around and taking a deep breath.

“I don't believe that. If you didn't want to hurt me you would have just left, but you left with someone else. You left with my best fucking friend, so don't tell me you didn't want to hurt me.”

You walked past him, heading to the living room and freezing on the spot when you got there.

“It's not what you think,” Kerry sighed as he approached. “I can explain if you-”

He looked at you before following your gaze.

You felt like time stood still as you ran across the living room and dropped to your knees, your dad lying unconscious on the floor.

“Dad,” You gently shook his shoulder. “Dad it's me, wake up. Come on, wake up now..”

You felt panic set in as he didn't respond, holding your hand to his hot forehead.

“Dad..please wake up, you're not leaving me. Come on..”

A few minutes later, Kerry appeared by your side, dropping to his knees beside you.

“I called an ambulance, they're on the way,” He explained, gently touching your back. “He's going to be okay, don't you worry.”

“How can you know that,” You murmured, closing your eyes as more tears filled your eyes. “What if I've lost him too?”

“Hey, don't say that,” Kerry wrapped his arms around you and you didn't object, sobbing into his chest. “He's going to be fine,” Kerry whispered, stroking your back. “It's not his time yet, you got him for a whole while longer.”

“I'm still mad at you, you know,” You muttered, taking a shaky breath. “But thank you.”

Everything seemed to happen in a blur. You only remembered clinging to Kerry as paramedics came into the house and got your dad into the ambulance. You held his hand on the ride to the hospital, your head buried in Kerry's shoulder.

Being back in the hospital waiting room felt like a nightmare. You wanted to be anywhere else, wanted to run away from it all. When Kerry went to get some coffee you wanted to beg him not to leave, but couldn't. When he came back you accepted the coffee with a grateful nod.

“I think we should talk,” You sighed softly, looking over to him. “I don't need another thing hanging over my head. So..just tell me why you left?”

Kerry looked down at his cup for a moment before looking back at you and giving you a nod.

“Alright let's get this out there. I know that I wasn't perfect, far from it. I swear to you that I had no idea how you felt about me, if I had even suspected you saw me as something other than a friend then..”

He shook his head, laughing softly.

“I wouldn't have been such an idiot. I was crazy about you but I thought you saw me as more like a brother. So I thought I should just date anyone else, try and get over you. Then you and David started hanging out more and I really thought you weren't interested in me. So I just wanted anyone else as a distraction, I was so angry at David for stealing you even though you weren't mine to steal. I would hear you laughing in his room and it would kill me, I just wanted to know why you chose him over me.”

You took a sip of coffee, your heart aching in your chest. After a moment of silence you took a deep breath and looked over to Kerry.

“Why didn't you just come to me when you heard that stupid rumor that me and David were together again?”

Kerry looked up for a moment, letting out a sigh before looking back at you.

“Honestly? I didn't want to hear you confirm it. It would have killed me. I shouldn't have believed it, but I did. I thought you had realized I wasn't good enough for you and I just wanted to get away. So when the opportunity came up I took it.”

You wrapped your hands around your cup, letting out a soft sigh.

“And my best friend?”

Kerry shook his head, clearing his throat.

“That wasn't anything. We fooled around a little at a party. I was just desperate to get the thought of you being with David out of my mind. She asked if she could come with me when I was leaving but we went our separate ways when we got there.”

You went to reply but stopped when a doctor walked towards you. You reached your hand out to touch Kerry's, hesitating for a moment before he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

As it turned out, your dad was indeed going to be fine. He had suffered a minor heart attack, and while he was to be kept overnight for observation, he would make a full recovery.

“Don't say I told you so.” You looked over to Kerry when the doctor left.

“Never would,” Kerry held his hand over his heart. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath, looking up for a moment.

“I should go see him. I was so scared I wouldn't be able to.”

“Go on,” Kerry smiled softly. “I'll be here.”

You made your way to your dad's ward, finding his bed and letting out a shaky breath when you saw him. He was still with you, still breathing. You sat down beside the bed, touching his hand.

“Thought you were gonna leave me too,” You murmured softly, watching his chest rise and fall slowly. “I would have brought you back to life and killed you again for doing that to me. I should've known you'd pull through, you're too stubborn to go this soon, right? And you got a lot more to pack into this life. Asking Carla out, for one. You think she's going to be won over by the jokes? You need to woo her, she'd be good for you.”

You stood up, stepping closer to the bed.

“I'm gonna be right back here in the morning, okay? You're in safe hands. I love you so much.”

You leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead before pulling back with a smile and heading back to the waiting room. Kerry was still waiting for you, and you tried not to feel too pleased about it.

“I think I'm gonna head home,” You sighed softly, sitting back down beside Kerry. “I'll come back in the morning, I don't really want to spend the night trying to sleep in one of these chairs.”

“Fair enough,” Kerry nodded. “I can call Kev, get him to give you a ride home.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “Thank you.”

“And by home I mean our home,” Kerry took your hand. “You think I'm gonna let you spend the night alone in your place then you got another thing coming.”

Any urge to protest faded away, you nodded and watched Kerry go to phone Kevin to pick you up. You let out a breath, looking up for a moment before smiling to yourself.

As it turned out, it was exactly what you needed. Kevin came to pick you up, and very kindly agreed not to tell anyone about your dad. He brought you back to the Von Erich household and any fear you had about things being awkward melted away when Kerry and David seemed to be on perfectly normal terms with each other.

The boys played football and you cheered them on, feeling a lightness settle over you. When Kerry and Mike won they grabbed you and lifted you up like a trophy, your laughter filling the air as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

You ate dinner and helped Doris with the dishes and sat half on Kerry's lap when you all watched TV, his arm around your waist. You felt as if the last few years hadn't happened, you were back where you'd always felt happiest.

When the time came to go to bed, you insisted Mike didn't need to give up his bed for you, feeling guilty when he insisted he would. You wouldn't sleep anyway, knowing Kerry was in the bed across the room. You stared up at the ceiling for a while for a while before throwing the blanket off and getting up.

You padded across the room before you found yourself standing by Kerry's bed. He was awake too, looking up at the ceiling before he turned and his eyes met yours, the light of the moon making them seem even more blue.

“Can I get in?” You asked, smiling a little as Kerry immediately moved over and pulled the blanket back for you.

“Couldn't sleep either?”

“No,” You sighed softly, getting into the bed and laying down with your back to Kerry. He moved the blanket over you and kept his hand by your shoulder for a moment before pulling it back.

“Today was..a lot. Just feel like I need to come back down to earth.”

“I get you,” Kerry murmured softly. “Sometimes you just need something familiar.”

“Well this certainly is,” You raised a brow, smiling as you felt Kerry's hand near your waist. You reached down and pulled his arm around you, relaxing into his touch.

“I can't remember how many nights I slept in this bed.”

“Enough to make us experts at keeping quiet,” Kerry laughed softly.

“I know,” You smiled with a groan. “Oh poor Mike..did he ever find out I was sneaking in here?”

“Nah,” Kerry murmured softly, wrapping his arm around you a little tighter. “Sometimes in the morning he'd ask if I got up in the night or he'd tell me I talk in my sleep. I never corrected him.”

“Well I'm glad we really could keep quiet then,” You murmured softly, turning over and meeting Kerry’s eyes.

“I never said but..thank you for being there with me today. I know I didn't say the nicest things to you, and I stand by them, but..I really appreciate what you did.”

Kerry smiled and gently stroked your waist, giving you a slight shrug.

“Don't mention it, honestly. You would have done the same for me, and..no matter what happened between us I still love you, I'll always love you.”

“I'll always love you too,” You smiled softly. “We both did stupid things, we both ended up right back here. I'm sure that means something but I don't want to think about it too much right now.”

“That's okay,” Kerry smiled, letting out a breath. “It's been a long day, why don't you get some sleep.”

“I will,” You murmured softly, glancing down for a moment and taking a deep breath. “But I need to do one thing first.”

You leaned in closer, closing your eyes as your lips pressed against Kerry's. For a moment you worried he wasn't going to kiss you back, but your heart soared when he did, his arm pulling you closer.

In the morning there would be a chat about the future, you would have to bring your dad home from the hospital, carry on with normal life.

But, the night was young enough to not worry about all that, and you planned to make the most of it.

#the iron claw #the iron claw fanfiction #the iron claw fic #kerry von erich x reader #jeremy allen white

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w1ldthoughts · 9 months

Text

The Forgotten One Chapter One: Cheers to Four Years

Pairing: CEO!Jack Harlow x Amnesiac!Reader

A/n: First chapter of The Forgotten One Series! So excited to do my first Jack Harlow AU. It’ll be emotional and stressful but hopefully you all enjoy it!

Warnings: car accident description, hospital stay and description of injuries.

When your alarm sounded that morning, you were ready to go. There was so much to do today with so little time to get it all done. With a mental list in mind, you tried to sit up in bed to grab your phone and type it all out but a heavy weight pulled you right back down to reality.

“Don’t know where you’re about to go without a good morning kiss or anything? On our anniversary no less? My god.” Jack whines, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you laughed. “Happy anniversary baby, you’re the love of my life.”

“That’s better isn’t it?”

The man’s smile says it all. He pulls you further into his arms, allowing your upper body to rest on top of him. “This—this is better.”

“Ever since you moved in, I think I’ve slept a lot better. Having this be our home instead of just mine has brought me so much peace. You bring me peace. Happy anniversary y/n.”

The kiss started off slow, lips lightly brushing together and filled with anticipation. Jack’s hands roamed your body, his hands finding purchase on the small of your back. He drew small circles against the sheet that was still covering your body, deepening the kiss. “We should skip work today, spend some quality time celebrating. Four years is a pretty big deal, you know?”

“It is a big deal but I have a big meeting at work today that I absolutely cannot miss. So I gotta go before I’m late. You and I both know my boss is all about us being 15 minutes early or we’re late while he shows up whenever he wants.” You tell him with a giggle, poking his nose.

He watches you get up from the bed and huffs out a breath, looking miserable. “So you’ll leave your boyfriend in bed who loves you so much to go see your terrible boss?”

“Yes, yes I am. Because this is my dream job and on the bright side he’s very sexy. So at least I’ll have something to look at.” After getting ready, you give him one last peck on the lips and tell him you have a gift for him tonight after dinner.

Pulling into your parking spot at Churchill Downs Inc. will never get old. The company was a foundational part of the state of Kentucky and you were lucky enough to get a small HR position out of college and steadily worked your way up to Director of Operations. Another girl who started at the company at the same time you did had climbed the ladder with you along the way and without Cleo’s support and encouragement during some very trying times, there was no way you’d be where you are today.

After swiping your company ID, you took the elevator up to your office on the 13th floor, welcomed by your assistant Ben who held your favorite coffee in his right hand and an overview of who would be attending the meeting in his left. Cleo came in a few minutes later to give a numbers update for you to present to the board, and to make lunch plans.

“I’m probably gonna order us some Proof on Main because I’m not leaving here until 8 tonight. Need to meet with Elijah down in accounting to make sure we’re on track and he’s been kind of hard to track down so I’ll be here for a while.” Cleo sits down on the couch in the corner of the room. She claims it’s her designated spot. “What time are you and Jack going to dinner?”

“Reservations are for 6:30 I think. So I’ll probably head out around 4:45.”

“I seriously cannot believe you guys have been together for four years,” she laughs. “Do you remember when we—“

“We don’t have to talk about the dark ages. Not when we had cubicles by the bathrooms and packed tuna sandwiches for lunch because we had to save our money to pay bills.” A shiver went down your spine at the thought of living paycheck to paycheck while having to dress up for various fundraisers and galas on a very small budget.

“Those were the days. Wouldn’t want to spend my nights watching ‘Good Girls’ and eating ramen on the couch with anyone else. I love you and I’m really glad we get to do this together every day.” Cleo states proudly, wiping a fake tear from her eye.

You stood up from your seat to grab her hand in agreement. “I love you too. And I will see you in 30 after my meeting. Wish me luck.”

“Please, you don’t need luck. You run this shit.”

Walking into a board room to speak in front of a group of men lit a fire under you that was hard to explain. Yes, Cathy and Rachel were on the board as well but they had probably been sitting in these meetings since you were in middle school. You walked around to the front of the board room and handed out the information sheets, giving everyone access to the numbers you’d be referencing and where they came from in case there were any questions. The entire board was in attendance, except your boss. Of course he’d demand that everyone be early and he was nowhere to be found. After giving it five minutes to see if he’d show up, you began to speak.

“Okay so I’m going to keep it short and just go over some big picture things for you all so everyone is on the same page regarding the schedule. We have racetrack inspections starting Wednesday and the repair crew will come in some time after to give a final ‘all clear’ and—“

The door opens and he walks in wearing a beige knitted top with olive green pants and brown New Balance 550s. How wonderful it must feel to be a modern day CEO. And comfortable. He simply sat down at the opposite end of you and was immediately handed all the necessary paperwork to catch up.

“As I was saying, we’re starting the newest season in the fall. Sports books open back up in six weeks which means that we need to beat out the numbers from last quarter. You all know that we had record breaking numbers in both wagers at $796 million and profit, which was at $319 million. From where we’re at today this quarter’s target numbers are $803 million in wagers and $360 million in profit.” You looked to the table at the impressed faces staring back at you, feeling proud. There was a very limited number of questions and the meeting was adjourned, everyone heading back to their respective offices, except for your boss who stayed behind as you grabbed your stuff.

“What could you possibly have been doing to show up to this meeting 12 minutes late?” You questioned him as he scrolled through his phone, very unmoved by your annoyed tone of voice.

“I’m sorry,” he put his phone down and stood up, placing his hands on your shoulders, making you relax a bit. “My girlfriend and I have pretty big plans tonight and I just had to make sure that Sadie cleared my schedule. You know she forgets things sometimes.”

You scoff, feeling tension in your shoulders again. “That’s because she wants to fuck you. So badly. Everyone knows that.”

“Well sometimes good things happen when you have sex with your boss. Like a four year, extremely stable, healthy and sexy relationship? Best thing that ever happened to you?” Jack beams, kissing your forehead.

“Hm, I guess life with you isn’t so bad, boss.”

“Hey enough with the dirty talk y/n. We’re on the clock.” He states, walking in front of you, getting ready to open the door.

“I literally didn’t say anything remotely sexual.”

He stops right as his hand touches the door handle, turning around to face you. His ocean eyes filled with pure adoration. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know I want you, all the fucking time.”

“Good thing you have me all to yourself then, huh?”

Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, “I can’t wait to show you tonight how grateful I am to get to be with you.” He pecks your cheek and fully opens the door, heading back up to his office.

Before you knew it, 5pm hit and it was time to head home and get ready for dinner. You opted for a black leather miniskirt, a black top with an olive green trench coat and boots. Jack was leaning on the kitchen counter, typing away on his laptop clad in an all black outfit. Of course. After showering you with compliments and sneaking in a few cheeky kisses, it was time to leave.

The two of you headed off to the restaurant and were immediately seated in a private section for some much needed peace and quiet. He never really drank but for this occasion, he ordered two glasses of their most expensive wine.

“Cheers to us. Four years down, the best time of my life.” Jack declared, a light clink of your glasses hitting each other the only other sound in the room. “Here’s to so many more adventures together. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too. Cheers bubs.”

He laughs, shaking his head at the nickname that secretly made his stomach tingle. “So…gifts. I know we said we wouldn’t make a big deal out of it this year but I feel like we’ve been working so hard and haven’t actually gotten to spend time with each other for more than a day outside of work in the last few months…”

“Jackman, what did you do?” You mused.

“We’re going to the Maldives in two weeks. Just you and me and a California king bed overlooking the second most beautiful view I’ve ever seen. The first is you being naked if I wasn’t making myself clear.”

“No, I got it.” You reassure him with a giggle. This was really the man you chose out of all others in this world. “And I think it’s a great idea. Thank you my love.”

“Anything for you, pooks.”

Now it was your turn. “I’ve literally been looking for something to get you for months because what the hell do you get someone who already has everything they could possibly want? And I figured it out. You’re always in the office until late and I miss you. So I got an upgrade for your home office and it’s being set-up as we speak. It's a noise canceling Livit Studypod so you won’t have to physically be in your office to get that quiet feel you need when you’re trying to focus. That way I can just be downstairs if you need a break or whatever.”

“That is actually perfect, you’re a fucking genius.”

“I know.” You respond, taking a bite of your food. “It’s why you fell in love with me, even if I didn’t like you. Not even a little.”

Jack sighs, thinking back to a time that felt like centuries ago. “And now look at you. Can’t get enough of me.”

“If that’s what you tell yourself so you can sleep better at night then I’m gonna let you have it.”

On the way home, you and Jack were belting out “Candy Girl” by New Edition. He remembered going straight right after the light turned green. Everything happened so quickly after that, but also the world seemed to be going in slow motion. The other car must have been going at least 60 mph when it hit the passengers side. There was glass…everywhere. His all black Aston Martin DBX spun eight times before smashing into the median, leaving behind an overwhelming smell of burned rubber and gas. Bystanders watched in horror as the Prince of Kentucky and his longtime girlfriend were pulled out of the totaled car, placed on stretchers and heaved onto different ambulances. The scene looked catastrophic and all anyone could do was pray and hope for the best.

Two days went by. Two days full of national news coverage about the young CEO of Churchill Downs Inc. and the accident. The man who hit them walked away with a few bruises on his face and a broken nose from the airbag as well as getting arrested for driving under the influence. The only sounds that could be heard in Jack’s hospital room was the steady beep of the machines and his dad Brian’s soft snores. It was the first time in 37 hours that he’d actually slept. His mom was sitting next to the bed, nursing her ninth cup of coffee in the last day.

The first thing he felt when he woke up was the searing pain in his left shoulder. Then the fact that his lips were chapped and he was in desperate need of some water. He blinked his eyes open and attempted a deep breath, groaning at the painful sensation that resonated throughout his entire body.

“Jack? Sweetie, hi.” Maggie whispered, tears escaping the exact same blue eyes that were now staring back at her. “You’re awake. How—” she blew out a breath that she’d been holding since she arrived at Norton Hospital. “How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? I can—I can call someone to give you more meds or—”

“I’m fine, mom.” He rasps out his voice hoarse from lack of use. “How’s y/n? I need to see her. Where is she?” Jack mutters, getting himself ready to stand up from his bed. His dad and Clay pop up immediately, broken out of their sleepy daze to ease him back down.

“You can’t go anywhere bro.” Clay tells him. “You broke your collarbone, a grade two concussion and got a pretty nasty cut on your shoulder.”

His dad places a comforting hand on his good shoulder, “just take it easy son. She’s just next door and we’ll take you to her when you’ve got a little more energy.”

“Fine.” Jack scoffs, feeling too tired to argue. “Is she okay at least? Can you tell me anything?” The trio exchange looks that make him feel like they’re preparing him for the worst. “Somebody please tell me. I can—I can handle it.” He whispers, trying to settle his breaths. And even though everyone in the room knew that he definitely would not be able to handle it, they had to tell him.

Maggie sat at the side of the bed and placed a hand on her son’s leg. “Honey, she’s not awake yet. And it’s not looking good. The—impact of the crash caused some swelling in her brain and they had to put her in a medically induced coma. They’re still running tests but she,” his mom pauses at the look in her son’s eyes. It was like the light had gone out in them and the more she spoke, the more despondent he looked. “You should probably get some more rest. We’ll grab you some water and food so you can get your strength back? How does that sound?”

He didn’t respond, just gave her a simple nod and reclined the bed back a little so that he could lay down more comfortably, even with his injuries. The thought of you sitting there helpless and in pain was ten times as painful as his collarbone or anything he was experiencing. His family stepped outside and he knew they were whispering about him but all he could hear was the consistent dripping sound of his tears onto the pillow under his head.

Taglist

@killatravtramp

@jackharloww

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow angst #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow au

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elixirfromthestars · 1 year

Text

Conflict of Interest - II

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case.

Word Count: 8.5k

Warning(s): crime show level of violence / homicide investigation details / drinking / angst / fluff / mentions of a car accident and injuries, but no major details / slight cursing / anxiety / overthinking / insecurities / lots of back and forth / misunderstandings / angst with a happy ending

a/n: It has been a while, but part 2 of this beautiful duo is finally out! ❤️ I hope the length of part 2 can make up for how long it took me to finally finish writing it. It’s angsty with a happy ending, although the happy ending doesn’t come so easily. 👀 Thank you for reading! ❤️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! 💕

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part I

You tossed and turned in your bed once more, the sunlight peeking through your blinds, disturbing your sleep. The events of last Saturday weighed heavy on you. So much so, that you hadn’t gone to work in the past two days—today would be the third. You claimed you came down with the flu, putting on the best performance you could when Natasha called you. You were never able to lie to her face, but over the phone wasn’t as hard. Eventually, however, you would have to go back.

Eventually, you would have to face him.

Bucky called you a few times that night after you deserted him at the fair. The guilt set in almost immediately and you were too ashamed to answer him. You managed to read one message before silencing all of the notifications on your phone.

Can you at least let me know you got home safely?

Your stomach twisted at the words, the culpability of your actions threatening to eat away at it. Even after everything you said, even after running away from him and deserting him at the fair, he still only wanted to know you were safe. There were so many things you wanted to say. Nothing, however, was a good enough response in your mind. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t leave a door open for more. No matter what you told him it would either crush his heart or give him hope.

You didn’t dare do either.

Instead, you typed something short and to the point. A quick, “ I did. Goodnight, Bucky.”

You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since.

“ Y/n, where are you? I was supposed to be having lunch with Steve today,” Natasha’s voice was suddenly coming from your living room. “ You didn’t answer my calls again. What is going on?” You rose from your bed and walked in the direction of her voice, slightly thinking you were sleep-deprived to the point of hearing things. You were wrong when you were met with her questioning eyes.

“ Well, you look terrible.”

If this were anyone else, and not your best friend of over a decade, you would have felt embarrassed at the state of not only yourself but your apartment as well. There were used dishes littering your coffee table and clothing items spread across the floor. As for your state, it was Wednesday and the last time you showered was before the date with Bucky. Since then, you had been wearing a blue set of satin pajamas that now held strains of evidence of all the takeout you had been eating since. You didn’t need a mirror to see the tragic state of your hair.

“ I told you, I’m sick. You shouldn’t have come. I’m going to get you sick too,” you tried to sound as convincing as possible, throwing in a couple of fake coughs and straining your voice to make it sound hoarse. You cursed yourself from the past in your head for giving Natasha a key to your apartment.

“ You almost had me there, Y/n. Unfortunately, for you, the squad showed up at our office to brief us on a new case, and guess who was staring at your empty desk the entire time like a wounded puppy?” You couldn't meet her eyes when she spoke and instead plopped yourself down on your couch. Natasha stood on the other side of it, staring at you with her arms crossed.

“ I think I messed up, Nat.”

“ You think? He practically ran out of the room once the debriefing was over. What the hell happened on Saturday?” She made her way over to you, sitting on the couch across from you. She was waiting for an answer, but it felt as though your throat was closing up.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell her. It’s more like you physically couldn’t. As if some invisible force was preventing you from speaking aloud the thoughts that had been driving you crazy these past few days. They would surely cement themselves into reality if someone, but yourself, heard them.

Thankfully, this was Natasha sitting across from you. She knows you better than anyone else and knows exactly how to handle you in situations like this. You of course know her just as well, so you were not surprised when she called off of work and grabbed a bottle of wine with a pair of glasses, from your cupboard, for the two of you.

“ There’s no way I’m leaving before getting to the bottom of this.”

After a few sips, the words started to pour out of you faster than Natasha could pour more wine into your glass. Any hindrance or hesitation—gone like that—with a bit of liquid courage in your system. Natasha didn’t say a word nor did she interrupt you at any point. She let you speak until you had spilled everything. You even handed her your phone so she could read the messages Bucky had sent—the ones you didn’t have the courage to read yourself. She scrolled through them, taking a sip of her wine here and there. She was uncharacteristically quiet, and you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. Whenever you gossiped over your usual bad dates she would be filling the silence with laughter and snarky comments. However, this was not just another date. This was a date with Bucky. This means that, as you feared, everything was different.

“ Y/n, I say this with all the love and respect I have for you, but what the fuck did you do?” She raised her voice slightly, confusion etched into her face. You chugged the rest of the wine in your glass to prepare yourself for the conversion you were about to have.

“ Look, I know what it looks like, but I have a good reason.”

“ What it looks like to me is that for months you’ve been complaining about bad dates and sucky men, only to finally go on a good date with a man you clearly have feelings for, and you go and mess it up?”

“ Bucky is not just any guy, Nat. It’s Bucky as in our friend Bucky, who happens to also be our coworker. If we end up being something more to each other and then we break up, it’ll mess up the friendship all of us have. I can’t risk that. I can’t ask you, Sam, or Steve to pick sides when something like that happens. It’s better off this way,” you argued, gripping the wine glass a little too tightly, trying to regain control of your emotions. You didn’t have the energy to cry in front of Natasha while trying to plead your case.

Natasha sighed, her lips in a tight line,” Y/n, you’re joking right? You two have already been something more to each other for a long time now. Please, none of us are blind to how you two favor each other over the rest of us.” You took a second to let her words sink in.

“ Even if that’s true, it can’t happen. Too much would change and it would complicate things.”

“ Things always change and you’re the one making things complicated. Y/n, please look at me,” you turned to her, meeting her gaze, “ I don’t care what Prosecutor L/n wants or thinks is right. The only thing that matters is what Y/n wants. This job can’t become our entire life, we are allowed to live outside of it. Let yourself fall in love and be happy.” Her words tugged at your chest as you took her advice into consideration. Nevertheless, your fear of what could happen could not be swayed.

“ It’s not easy to separate that part of my life. Being a prosecutor is a part of me—a huge part of me. I can’t just set that aside. Nat, I know you mean well, but I think things are better the way they are now. I’ll go back to work tomorrow. I promise things will continue as they always have,” you put your wine glass down on the coffee table, an ill feeling bubbling within your stomach. Natasha let out a defeated sigh, “If that’s what you really want, then I’ll respect that. But I have to tell you that whatever it is you're really scared of, it’s making you let go of possibly one of the best things that could have ever happened to you.” This time her words made your heart sink in disappointment knowing what you were giving up.

She didn’t stay long after that. You chatted about work, the new case, and other frivolous things. Your mind, however, was elsewhere the entire time. Like a broken record, it repeated her words and Bucky’s over and over, almost as if to torture you. When she left, you ended up cleaning your entire apartment to distract yourself from your thoughts. It had never been so spotless.

The next day, you went to work to prove to Natasha, and to yourself, that everything was okay. Nothing had to change and everyone could operate as usual. What you didn’t expect was to be called into the Brooklyn precinct on your first day back. You managed to skim through a few files on your way there to get caught up on the case. Which thankfully, hadn’t really started until today.

You took a deep breath stepping out of the precinct elevator. Walking down the hallway, you were mere moments away from seeing Bucky again and your nerves were uncontrollable. You told yourself it was best to act professionally towards him, but you knew that was easier said than done.

As soon as you walked through the precinct entrance, your eyes scanned the entire room. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed Bucky in the conference area, looking over evidence with Detective Maria Hill and Detective Sharon Carter. His back was facing you, so he hadn’t noticed you yet. On the other side of the room, Steve was with Sam, having a conversation with what looked like to be the suspect’s attorney. Now you understood why you were called in.

“ Counselor Murdock, back to lose another case?” You asked teasingly. He smiled, a slight chuckle escaping him, “ Not this time. Although, if this goes to court I’m happy it's you prosecuting this case. You’re the only prosecutor whose voice I like hearing throughout the trial. If anything I’m looking forward to it.” Murdock gave you a cheeky grin, being flirtatious as always. You laughed it off, used to him being this way since your law school days.

“ I think it’s time we move things along. Have you spoken to your client yet?”

“ Not yet. I arrived a few moments before you did.”

“ Well then, you should go inside and speak to him. The detectives will join you momentarily. I hope we can have full cooperation.”

“ No promises,” he shrugged, a smug look on his face. Once he entered the interrogation room you turned to Steve and Sam, “ You shouldn’t leave them in there too long before they decide not to cooperate. What do we have on the suspect?”

“ Not much. The suspect, Quentin Beck, was the victim's boyfriend and the last person to see her alive. Her body was found under a bridge not too far from their shared apartment. Initially, she was a Jane Doe found with no possessions on her until we ran her fingerprints and found she was arrested prior for a misdemeanor. He says she went out with her friends and never came home. He filed a police report a week ago,” Sam explained.

“ Sounds like there’s not much to go on. Getting a warrant for the apartment wouldn’t be hard, but the evidence would be too circumstantial. She lives there so, of course, her DNA would be everywhere,” your brain went into prosecutor mode, sifting through mental files of any possible charges.

“ Could you get us a warrant for his car? If he transported the body there has to be some evidence left inside. This guy thinks he’s clever. Never seen someone so calm and indifferent to the death of their loved one. I got a feeling he killed her,” Sam continued.

You shook your head,“ Unfortunately, I need something more than just feelings to convict. I don’t think we have enough evidence to get a judge to sign off on a warrant. You’d have to get him to talk more and spill something. If she went out with her friends then maybe they know something. You can question their neighbors or tenant to see if there were any prior domestic disturbances, but for now, that’s all. We need more to go on than pure speculation.”

“ Carter, Barnes, Hill!” Steve called the rest of the squad over and you tensed up knowing he was approaching. It was easy to stay focused on the job when he wasn’t close. You couldn’t look at him and instead directed your attention to the suspect inside the interrogation room. He looked like the average white male, sort of handsome if you squinted hard enough. However, if this job had taught you anything, looks can be deceiving.

“ Hill, I want you in the interrogation room with me. You’re best with the clever ones. Wilson, Carter, go back to the apartment complex and question the tenant, the neighbors they have nearby, and even the one directly underneath their apartment. Maybe they can tell us if they were as happy as a couple as he said they were. Barnes, I need you to investigate her social media and see if any of her friends posted this alleged outing. Find a way to contact them and ask them what they know. Counselor, I would like it if you stayed to watch over the interrogation. You know how to handle Murdock better than any of us,” Steve turned to you once he was done giving his orders. You faced him, getting a glimpse of Bucky from the corner of your eye. You felt his stare on you the entire time Steve was talking.

“ Of course,” your response was brief, and the tone of your voice was weak. Bucky’s intense stare was clouding your senses. The room suddenly felt smaller, and you wanted to ask Steve who had cranked up the heat.

Steve shot Bucky a quick glance before directing his attention back to you. By the look on his face, you knew he was putting two and two together. All of your friends here were detectives. You wouldn’t put it past them to figure it out. Your clothes suddenly felt two sizes too small.

“ Okay, everyone knows what they have to do. We’ll regroup around noon. If you end up with any new leads you want to pursue, call in and let me know first,” Steve gave the last of his instructions, sending everyone off. It took him a second, but Bucky walked away to his desk, which was thankfully the furthest from you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Nothings changed. You repeated these words over and over in your head, to remind yourself—no, to convince yourself they were true. Which was hard when Bucky was staring holes into the back of your head. You could see him vaguely behind you through the reflective surface of the two-way mirror. It took everything within you not to turn around and lock eyes with him.

After watching the interrogation for about forty minutes, you ended up with the same conclusion as Sam. Quentin Beck was guilty—he had to be. There was no proof yet, only the gut feeling you and Sam had felt, however, you knew deep down he had killed his girlfriend. As you listened to him speak you realized he was the kind of man who with one look made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. His eyes were the muddiest shade of blue, lifeless and cold. You didn't believe for a second he was ever in love with the victim. There was a moment you could have sworn he look through the two-way mirror right at you. You hated how intimidated you felt at that moment.

If it was the last thing you did, you would make sure this man would rot behind bars for the rest of his life.

Nothing new was learned from the interrogation. Steve and Maria came out of there, letting the hard look on their faces fall into defeat. Anytime they almost caught Quentin slipping up, Murdock was there to save him.

“ Counselor, I think it's time you take a turn. Murdock is giving us a run for our money,” Maria suggested, glaring at the two men inside the room.

“ She won’t have to. Look,” Bucky rushed over to where the three of you were, tablet in hand, to show you all something, “ See these videos? The victim's friends sent me these from the night they all went out. The suspect dropped her off and picked her up from the outing. He’s lying about her never going home. And see this?”

Bucky’s hand slid back and forth on the screen showing two screenshots of two different cars with two different license plates. You were too engrossed with the wickedness of the details you hadn’t noticed Bucky was standing next to you until his arm brushed up against yours.

“ They’re two different cars, that bastard. He picked her up in a different car than the one he dropped her off in. What car did he drive here?” Maria’s teeth were gritted. “ I checked the cameras and there’s a match for the first car he drove parked next to Carter’s,” Bucky showed another screenshot of the same car as the first, parked in the precinct parking lot.

“ Counselor, is this enough to get us a warrant?” Steve asked you.

You considered the evidence before speaking, “ This is more than enough to get a warrant on both cars. Although, it’s better if you send all of this to Romanoff. She’s closer to the judge’s chambers and can get you a warrant faster than I can. If you stall him long enough, you’ll have the warrant and the crime scene unit here to investigate the car before your time to question him is up. We don’t want him erasing any evidence,” you suggested.

Steve agreed, “Barnes, call Prosecutor Romanoff and give her all the information you have to get that warrant. Hill, go back in there and give him another round of questioning, maybe some paperwork to file. I have to make a few calls before I go back in. Counselor, I think we’ll be okay for now, but I’d appreciate it if you could deliver the warrant to Murdock himself. Something tells me if you give it to him, he’ll go easier on countering it.”

You nodded your head in agreement, feeling Bucky step away from you and shooting you one last glance before going back to his desk and doing as ordered. Maria went ahead and reluctantly made her way back into the interrogation room. Steve was standing there quietly, a pensive look on his face. There was clearly something on his mind, and you dreaded knowing exactly what it was.

“ You and Bucky, is everything okay between you two?”

“ Everything’s fine.”

“ Things don’t seem fine.”

“ They are. It’s all fine. Everything’s fine.”

The look Steve gave you let you know he wasn’t believing a word you said. However, he didn’t push it, merely sending you a sympathetic smile with kind eyes that made you want to confess everything. Steve wasn’t Natasha though. Steve was Bucky’s best friend and you didn’t deserve to be consoled by him—only hated. You broke his best friend’s heart and if he didn’t know, he would know soon enough.

Maybe Natasha was right. Maybe things always change anyways.

But in this case, it was okay, because at least in this case you were the bad guy. You were the heartbreaker and everyone can hate you. No one has to pick sides because you made it easy for them to choose Bucky, and you were okay with that.

You had to be okay with that.

“ Anyway, you have Captain duties to get to, and I have a lot of work to catch up on after the whole fair—flu thing,” you cleared your throat, stopping yourself from saying anything else. If Steve had noticed your slip-up, he didn’t acknowledge it. You let him know you would be back to hand the physical warrant to Murdock. You then excused yourself to make a quick getaway out of the precinct.

You speed walked out into the hallway that led to the elevator. You knew it was a comical sight how fast you were booking it out of there, but you didn’t care. You begged Natasha in your head to keep Bucky on the phone just long enough for you to slip out.

Unfortunately, for you, the phone call was already over.

You heard his footsteps before his voice, “Y/n, we need to talk.”

“ Sorry, Bucky, I can’t right now. I’m behind on paperwork and I need to get to the office as soon as possible,” you dismissed him, thankful the elevator doors were already open. A few officers were getting off, giving you the chance to quickly slip in without waiting.

Bucky, however, was also quick and moved his hand in between the elevator doors so it wouldn't close, “ You can’t even give me a minute? I don’t even deserve that?” The pain and disbelief in his voice were unbearable to hear. You stared at his feet, not being able to meet the eyes you knew would match the emotions in his voice.

“ Bucky, I really can’t talk right now.”

“ You can, you just don’t want to talk to me. You can’t even look at me.”

The tone in his voice froze you in your spot. It was foreign and angry. Bucky had never directed that kind of tone your way. A tone you could only associate with hatred. Something you had previously established was okay. If all your friends could hate you for hurting Bucky, then Bucky had every right to hate you for hurting him. He deserved so much more than you. He deserved to be with someone who wasn’t so conflicted about being with him. Maybe if he hated you too, everything would be much easier to get through.

Before you could respond or Bucky could say anything else, another group of officers stepped into the elevator, causing Bucky to remove his hand. The officers sent you quizzical looks as one of them pressed the ground-level button setting the elevator in motion. You were shakily gripping your briefcase, watching Bucky’s feet disappear as the elevator doors closed.

It’s okay Bucky, you can hate me. You thought to yourself, as though somehow being able to transmit this to him.

The next few weeks were agonizing. You and Bucky avoided each other at all costs throughout the entire case. If he came by the office he was never alone and all his questions were addressed to Natasha. He wouldn’t so much as glance your way and you understood why he was so hurt when you wouldn’t even look at him in the elevator. To have somebody who meant the world to you, who made you feel seen, act like you no longer existed was as if you were dead to them.

Maybe you were to him now.

The last time he ever spoke to you was after Quentin was arraigned and his bail was posted. Natasha made you go to the precinct to collect copies of witness statements. You were annoyed, knowing Steve or any other detective could have sent those copies digitally or even faxed them. It wasn’t until you arrived at the precinct and saw only Bucky was around that you realized this was a setup.

“ Hey...I came to get the copies of witness statements Nat called in earlier saying we needed,” your voice was stiff as you stood awkwardly by Bucky’s desk. He had been typing away at his computer before you approached him, and wasn’t showing any signs of stopping at your arrival.

He clenched his jaw, nodding slowly, getting up from his desk and going into Steve’s office. You took a step forward only to stop yourself, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to follow him in. He clearly wasn’t in a good mood at the sight of your presence.

He came out of the office moments later with a stack of manila folders in his hands. He handed them to you, “ Here, this should be everything you need.” His tone was distant and professional. You grabbed them, the apprehensive tension between you two threatening to suffocate you. You managed to mutter out a small thank you before leaving.

Neither of you looked at the other during that last interaction.

Steve, Sam, and Natasha tried talking to you about the situation—well more like Steve and Sam tried talking to you, and Natasha lectured you—but, you never gave them any real answers or explanations. You knew where they were coming from, but any brainpower you had left was dedicated to the case. You poured every waking hour into it to distract yourself from everything else. This worked incredibly, although it also brought on a foreboding feeling for when the case was over. Once you reached the finish line, it would be hard to ignore the obstacles on the other side of it.

This was the complete opposite of making things easier for you. In his absence, you realized how much you truly missed him and how comfortable you had gotten with his usual presence. This was the first case where you didn’t have late nights working on paperwork, and days going out to the field together to investigate. Natasha and you typically did your work separately which made it easy for Bucky, in previous cases, to come in and partner up with you at any opportunity.

You especially felt his absence when it came to rehearsing your opening remarks for Quentin Beck’s trial. You always did this with Bucky, but now he wasn’t here to give you pointers and reassuring words. He wasn’t here to comfort you and let you know you were going to do great. There was a moment when you were a click away from calling him the night before the trial but decided against it knowing how unfair that was to him.

No, instead, you had your bedroom wall staring back at you as you practiced your opening speech.

This was the loneliest you had ever felt.

On the day of the trial, you went over your notes with Natasha before it commenced. You dotted all your i’s and crossed all your t’s. You couldn’t afford to let Quentin Beck slip through the laws of justice over a technicality. He had murdered his girlfriend out of spite and jealousy, and thanks to the best detective team in Brooklyn, you had all the evidence to prove it.

Your opening went smoothly. The jury was immediately entranced by your persuasiveness—you even saw a few of them cry. This was good. As long as you continued to show them the monster Quentin Beck was, the easier and faster they would convict him.

Like any other trial, you and Natasha spilt the witnesses in half. Natasha was better at intimidating anyone on the stand, while your strong suit lay in appealing to the jury. Any emotionally packed moment was one you delivered. Any moment someone needed to be put in their place, there Natasha was. That is how the rest of the trial went.

When Quentin Beck was put on the stand, the tension in the room became palpable. Already the jury hated him, and his nonchalant demeanor did nothing to help. His eyes would glance over the room and every time his eyes met yours, you had to do everything in your power not to visibly shiver. After the brutality of the evidence of the victim’s murder was discovered his eyes became to you nothing short of haunting. In them lay a storm that was waiting to ensnare you and drown you. You couldn’t shake the discomfort they brought you when it was time to give the closing arguments.

You were good at thinking on your feet, so closing remarks always came effortlessly to you. It’s the same as always working on homicide cases. Humanize the victim as much as possible to the jury. Remind them the victim was a daughter, a cousin, a friend, and to many others so much more than that. Remind them the defendant was a cold-blooded killer. The one to act as the judge, jury, and executioner to the victim. Matt was trying to get a third-degree murder charge, while you and Natasha were gunning for first-degree.

The entire trial is important to the jury. They have countless notes to look back on and read over to refresh their memories. However, it's the closing statements that always stick with them the most since it'll be the last they hear from either side. You were great at closing the case, but you had to admit, Matt was damn good at it as well.

You made a dire mistake upon giving the final speech. In a moment of accusation, you pointed to the defendant, and let those same lifeless eyes intimidate you for a split second. It was quick, and yet that was all it took to feel like you were drowning again. To play this fear off you took an emotional pause to gain your grounding. To anyone who didn’t know you, this was a moment of silence for them to reflect on the tragedy of this crime. Anyone who knew you though knew this was a moment for you to catch your breath.

Bucky was one of those people. When your eyes locked as you looked out into the sea of the trial audience he sent you a small smile and gave you an encouraging nod. That was all you needed to knock your closing statement out of the park.

The jury didn't take long to deliberate. The guilty verdict came back in record time.

“ Always a pleasure losing to you, Counselor L/n,” you heard Matt say behind you as he approached you after the trial. Natasha was a few feet away talking to Steve and the rest of the detectives. No doubt planning the usual celebration after a successful case.

“ You know, when you say it like that you make it sound like you lose on purpose,” you countered teasingly, packing up your stuff. Your goal was to sneak out of the courthouse as quickly and as quietly as possible.

He chuckled, “Never. Ever since law school you and I have gone back and forth with wins and losses. Maybe more losses on my part than wins.” This brought an amused grin to your face,“ So you admit I’ve always been a better lawyer than you?” This made you both laugh. After the last few weeks of feeling as though the world was crumbling down on you, it felt nice to bicker playfully with an old friend. It certainly made the air easier to breathe.

“ Walk me out?” You asked him. In response, he extended his arm out for you to grab onto to ‘guide him gracefully out of the building,’ as he put it. You rolled your eyes knowing very well he could navigate the courthouse halls better than you. Nevertheless, you linked your arm with his and walked out amongst the crowd of those who had attended the trial. As you were leaving you could've sworn a pair of eyes were on you. However, not wanting to confirm who those eyes belonged to, you ignored them and walked out of the courthouse with Matt. You continued to talk about the past and reminisce the days filled with bar exam study sessions and research essays on the fundamental principles of the jury selection process.

Outside, Matt helped you into a taxi, saying goodbye before parting ways. You were heading home wanting nothing more than to give yourself a long bath and maybe a nice nap. Anything to wind down from the stressful trial. Your usual method of stress relief after a trial was a fun night out with your friends, but of course this time it would be different.

You were getting fed up with different.

Your mind wandered back to Bucky’s encouragement during your closing. Even after everything Bucky was still caring and looking out for you. Guilt and shame were once more having a fight within you to see who could feast off of you more. Before you could lose yourself to these emotions, a call interrupted them.

“ You’re not coming are you.”

“ I will. I’ll take a taxi later.”

“ You can lie to everyone, Y/n. Even to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

She was right as usual.

“ I can’t go, Nat. I have tons of stuff to do. I have to prepare some final motions and other paperwork.”

You wished the ground would swallow you at this very moment.

“ You’re scared of things changing, but can't you see they already did?”

Again, she was right as usual, hanging up on you as you arrived outside your home feeling your world start to crumble again. Any sense of normalcy Matt had given you gone with one phone call.

The rest of your afternoon into the evening was spent giving yourself lots of self-care which consisted of a warm bath and shopping online for things you absolutely did not need. Anything to help you feel better. You tried convincing yourself it was okay for things to be different now. It was hard to pretend you didn’t care when in reality you cared way too much.

As midnight approached, you poured yourself a glass of wine to celebrate your trial win. “ Congratulations on another win, Prosecutor L/n,” you mustered as much fake enthusiasm as you could, and attempted to take a celebratory sip of wine, but found yourself fighting off tears instead.

Correction, this was the loneliest you had ever felt.

Your pity party was cut short by a knock on your door. You looked over at the time, fifteen minutes till midnight, and wondered who it could be. You knew at least it wasn’t Natasha since she would've just let herself in with her spare key.

You tiptoed over to your door and checked the peephole almost knocking your head against it in shock. Bucky was on the other side holding something in his hands. Your hand shot out to the doorknob, rattling it for a second, but you couldn't find the strength to open it. As a prosecutor, confrontation naturally comes to you. You found yourself surprised to know this wasn’t the case with Bucky. To face him and your actions these past few weeks was more anxiety-inducing than when you took the bar exam many years ago. Which was saying something since you threw up twice the morning of your bar exam.

At this point, you didn’t open the door not because you didn't want to, but because you physically couldn't. Your sweaty palms had a hard time twisting the lock off the door.

“ Y/n, you don't have to open the door, but please just listen.”

His voice was hesitant and slightly muffled on the other side. He seemed to be walking on eggshells around you and wanted to choose his words carefully. You didn’t blame him as you avoided him as much as he had avoided you. You more so than him if you were honest.

“Okay,” you whispered loud enough for him to hear. There was so much more you wanted to say, but once again in the presence of Bucky, you were rendered speechless.

There was a slight shifting sound on the other side of the door before he spoke,“ Look, these past few weeks I tried really hard to push my feelings away, but I was only getting more frustrated with myself. In pushing my feelings away, I pushed you away and I don’t want that. I miss you,” his voice broke toward the end and he paused before continuing,“ I want you—no, I need you to be a part of my life even if it's just as friends. Y/n, don't think for one second I regret taking you on that date because I don’t, but I can’t keep going on acting like we don’t know each other anymore.”

Your hand on the doorknob tightened as you blinked a few years away. You wanted to tell him that despite how it all ended that day was from a handful of days where you experienced the beauty of romance. To recognize it as such made your chest ache with longing, but it was the truth. It was cliche and yet, it was the first time you understood what it meant to feel sparks when kissing someone. It was a foreign sensation you wished the universe would give you the chance to feel again.

This and so much more were the things you wanted to say to the wonderful man on the other side. You were hesitant, however, to speak, afraid even one syllable would sound incomprehensible with the emotions you were trying to keep in control. Instead, you rested your head on the door and tried to calm down your racing heart. Maybe if you managed to do that you could say something—anything, to ease the pain for both of you.

There was rustling on the other side of the door and you wondered what he was doing. “ Today, when I saw how you were able to smile and laugh around Murdock, it reminded me of how we used to be. And I realize we might not have that again, but I’ll try to get back to a place like that. All I ask is for you to be patient with me because what I feel for you isn’t something that leaves from one day to the next, but to respect your wishes I’ll try. It’ll kill me, but I’ll try.”

Bucky’s words ripped your heart right out of your chest. If he said anything after that you wouldn’t know, your mind was no longer in the moment. It was racing a mile a minute grappling with what you wanted and what you thought you wanted. You tried convincing yourself for weeks that all you wanted was to go back to normal with Bucky. To have his friendship in your life because that would be enough. It wasn’t until he said he’d try his best to get rid of his feelings for you that you realized being just friends was never going to be enough—not anymore.

You stepped away from your door when the realization hit. What you felt towards him now was entirely different than the small crush you had on him when you first met. In all this time of getting to know him, he had wedged his way into your heart and found a permanent spot there. There was only one word that could summarize why in his absence it felt like a part of you was missing—it was love.

You were in love with Detective James Buchanan Barnes.

You got a taste of what it was like to be lovers with him and you knew no matter what you tried to do, nobody else could satiate what Bucky had awakened. A part of you was still scared of what could happen if things went south, but the fear of closing that door of being something more with Bucky was greater than the consequences that could happen in the case of a conflict of interest. You felt immensely stupid for not realizing this sooner.

Before your mind drove you any crazier, your body took charge and swung your door open. Bucky was used to your incoherences, so at least he would be able to string together some parts of what was about to spill from your mouth.

This was cut short as you were met with no one on the other side of the doorway. Bucky was gone. He must have said goodbye and you didn’t hear it over the back and forth in your head.

You took a deep breath surprisingly relieved. As much as you would love to chase after him in your pajamas at midnight in the Brooklyn streets, you didn’t want to seem like a mad woman. Instead, you used this as an opportunity to collect your thoughts and prepare yourself for pouring out your heart to Bucky tomorrow. He had done the same, and you rejected him. There was a possibility you had to prepare yourself for him to do the same. You felt as though he had every right to after how you treated him.

Before you closed the door, you noticed there were two things on the ground Bucky must have left for you. One, a bag of takeout from your favorite restaurant which made you realize you completely forgot about dinner, and two, the teddy bear from the night of the fair. Your heart burst at the sight. You bent down and grabbed the teddy bear delicately as if it were a small child and hugged it.

It smelled like funnel cake and a happier time.

You brought in the takeout, never letting go of the bear. You couldn’t tell if the empty feeling in your stomach was from your lack of eating dinner, or from the guilt that was still making its home there over your treatment of Bucky. He deserved so much better and maybe he had realized that.

Maybe that’s why he said he’d get rid of his feelings for you.

You shook the doubt away, exhaustion taking over your body. You put the takeout in the fridge, not having the appetite for anything right now. You decided you would wake up early in the morning and make Bucky some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He loves when you bake a batch and bring them down to the precinct. He always said they were his favorite—now if that was because you made them or they actually were his favorite, there was no way to know.

The cookies were to sweeten up your apology, which was a long thought-out one you wrote in the notes app on your phone before going to bed. It could honestly rival any speeches you had ever given in court.

You fell asleep that night with the teddy bear in your arms.

Your idea to wake up early in the morning to bake cookies was a good one—if you hadn't overslept. In the midst of Bucky’s surprise visit, and writing him an apology, you forgot to charge your phone and set your alarm. So instead of waking up at six as you intended, you woke up at ten. Thankfully, since you just ended a big case there was no urgency to be at the office bright and early in the morning. Even though a bit rushed, you still baked the cookies and got ready as usual. Although, this morning you noticed you felt a bit more self-conscious about your appearance.

What does one wear to confess your feelings to someone you already rejected?

Is there an outfit that conveys I’m sorry, better than you ever could?

You wouldn't know.

You were able to charge your phone halfway before heading out. You packed the cookies in a red tupperware container sticking a post-it note at the top that read: For Bucky <;3. You gave the teddy bear a goodbye wave as you exited.

You decided against taking the subway today and got a lift from a taxi instead. You sent Bucky a quick text to let him know you needed to talk to him and if you could meet up with him at the park closest to the precinct. You knew his lunch break was coming up, so you hoped you could talk to him then.

As soon as you sent the text your phone rang, your heart skipping a beat. There’s no way Bucky read that message that quickly.

You were right. It wasn’t Bucky calling you, it was Natasha.

“ Hey, Nat. Sorry, I overslept, but I’m close to the offic—”

“ Y/n, where are you?” There was a hint of panic in her voice.

“ Heading to the office...” you trailed off an uneasiness crawling its way up your spine.

“ Tell the driver to go to Stark Hospital. There’s been an accident.”

You froze,“ Natasha, are you okay? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“ It’s not me, it’s Bucky. He was in a car accident.”

The cookie container fell from your lap. You don’t know how you managed to find your voice to tell the driver to take you to Stark Hospital, but you did. A few blocks away there was a traffic jam, and the desperation to see Bucky and make sure he was okay was more than you or the driver could bare. You paid the driver and rushed out of the taxi, maneuvering your way through the rest of the cars until you reached the sidewalk. You continued to run from there.

Three blocks away.

Bucky was fine. He had to be fine.

Two blocks away.

Please, Bucky, for the love of everything, please be fine.

One block away.

Bucky, I can’t live without you, so please be fine.

Out of breath and barely able to see from the tears obstructing your vision, you made your way into the emergency room. You looked around the waiting room but saw no familiar faces. A nurse noticed you and came over.

“ Ma’am, who are you looking for?”

“ James Buchanan Barnes.”

“ He’s in the back in room seven, I have to first—wait, you can’t just go in.”

The nurse tried to stop you, but you must have looked at her like the world was ending because her features softened,“ Ma’am, I have to get you an approved visitor's pass. We can’t just have anyone back there.”

“ Screw the visitor’s pass, that's my fiancé you have back there. I have to see him,” you lied hiding your left hand in your bag in the process, moving past the nurse. You knew she was just doing her job, but the hopelessness you felt at that moment made you desperate.

Despite the nurse's protests, you marched your way into the back of the emergency room where all the patients were. You located room number seven and bolted straight to it, pushing the door open. Bucky was sitting on top of a hospital bed, his left arm in a sling, and his face scattered with a few cuts. He jumped back startled by your entrance. Relief overtook your features, finding yourself able to breathe again.

“ I am so sorry for the intrusion sir, but your fiancé was worried and insisted on seeing you.”

You froze in your spot, sheepishly, at the nurse’s words. Right, you told the nurse you were Bucky’s fiancé. Bucky bit his lip amused, “She was, was she? Of course, my doll was,” he extended his right hand toward you inviting you into his arms. You walked over to him timidly, as the nurse excused herself closing the door behind her.

When you heard the door close you embraced him tightly. He winced and you pulled away quickly, “ Oh—sorry, Bucky.” He shook his head, grinning giddily, “ Don’t apologize, I’m feeling better already.” Unamused, you scanned his injuries, “ Are you really? What happened?” At your question, Bucky explained how he and Sam were pursuing a suspect who rammed his car against theirs to stop them from catching him. Sam caught up to him on foot, since the car had been damaged, but Bucky had received the brunt of the hit and that’s how he ended up with a fractured arm and bruised ribs.

“ I’ll lock him up you know. He assaulted an officer, he evaded arrest, and who knows how many traffic violations he committed,” the more you spoke the more upset you became. You didn’t realize you were crying until Bucky wiped the tears from your face, and spoke softly to you, “ I know you will, you’re the best at that. I see it’s true, though. My fiancé was worried about me.” A look of endearment was on his face while yours was flushed with embarrassment. Although you didn’t bother to correct him, wanting to forget you ever said that to the nurse.

“ Well, I was worried. I thought, maybe—no, I don’t even want to say what I thought. I’m just glad you're okay. I actually wanted to talk to you, and say I was sorry and give you, oh no,” you looked down at your empty hands, no tupperware of homemade cookies in sight.

“ The taxi,” you gasped.

“ Give me…a taxi?” Bucky was looking at you delightedly, holding in his laughter.

“ Not a taxi, cookies.”

“Cookies?”

“ Yes, I baked cookies to give to you as an apology. I also had this whole speech prepared that I can’t remember right now. I wanted to say I’m so sorry for everything. For being so stupid and not talking it through with you since the beginning. For turning you down before even really giving us a chance. For letting my fear of what could happen, take control of this situation instead of taking control of it myself and handling it properly,” you were rambling on and on causing Bucky to chuckle before grimacing at the pain, his bruised ribs not appreciating his sense of humor.

“ Now, was this apology decided before or after you found out about my car accident.”

“ Before. Why?”

“ Well I thought maybe all I needed to do was get pummeled by a car to see your pretty face again,” he joked, causing you to laugh,” Shut up, it’s the painkillers talking isn’t it?”

“ God, I missed seeing you smile at me, doll,” he was looking at you like he had won the lottery.

“ There’s something I missed too,” you said sincerely thinking back to how empty you felt without Bucky in your life. You looked down at his injured arm, but he used his good one to lift your chin to look at him. His eyes twinkled, catching on to what you were saying, “ Does this mean I can give up on trying to get rid of my feelings for you?”

You nodded, not knowing what words were enough to convey how you felt. Instead, you decided to show him through your actions—so you kissed him. There they were again, those damn sparks only Bucky could make you experience.

He pulled you in by your waist with his free hand, so you were standing in between his legs. He reciprocated the kiss just as intensely as you had given it. Your hands reached up to cradle his head and pull him in closer—if that was even possible. This time there was no fear and no hesitation as you lost yourselves in the emotions you had been holding back for weeks.

The apologies, the loneliness, the anger, the sadness, the frustration, and everything in between melted away leaving only the love that was blossoming between you two behind.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Lovelies who asked to be tagged: @enchantedbarnes @sebsgirl71479 @xcaptain-winterx @marvel-wifey-86

236 notes · View notes

klausysworld · 1 year

Note

hi, can you do a one-shot for the 21st century human yandere klaus mikaelson, where klaus has been in love with y/n for quite some time, and one day he has a car accident and klaus is the first to visit her because she is super in love with her and when she wakes up with amnesia and Klaus uses this to his advantage and makes her believe that he is her husband and since y/n doesn't remember anything and klaus seems to know her and know everything about her, she believes him and goes to house with him

^^saw a film with a very similar plot called^^

‘Secret Obsession’

We’ll go slow

PT2

Klaus had never rushed somewhere faster after seeing the accident on the news. As soon as he saw the number plate he was on his way.

He knew she had a lack of family to claim her and so he had to make sure she got the proper care and treatment, he would be her family to pay her medical bills and hold her hand.

He ran straight to the receptionist asking for her but the lady was confused

“I’m sorry we don’t have a Y/n Y/l/n” she told him after looking her up in the system

“No no i saw her, the car accident, she was in the car accident” he explained hurriedly

“We have a Jane Doe in a car accident from not long ago, we would need some sort of proof that you know her. What is your relationship to the patient?” The women asked while typing away

“Husband” he answered without missing a beat

“I don’t see a ring” she muttered

“We were going through a rough patch, it doesn’t matter now, is she okay?” He lied quickly and the women looked at him with a sigh

“Can you tell me something specific about her?”

“She has a tattoo of a heart at the top of her hip” he told her and she made a call to a nurse to check. Once confirmed they put her name in the system and brought him to her.

“Now she has suffered from a head injury, and this next part may be difficult to hear…but she is currently experiencing some memory loss. We can’t say for sure how long this will last or how long she has forgotten but we think it’s probably years. I know that this may be a shock, if you need a moment before seeing her..” the doctor informed him the devastating news but it was only a jackpot for him.

Memory missing for years? Years she could have married him, moved in with him and had a life with him. Finally he had been given an opportunity to have her as his own.

“No…it’s okay. I just need to see she’s okay” he whispered and the doctor nodded before opening the door to go inside.

His eyes softened as he saw her battered state. Bruises coating her skin, all up her arms and her face.

Her eyes flicked to his, confusion clear as she looked to the doctor beside him who cleared his throat and made his way over, he leaned down beside her and spoke to her quietly

“Y/n, the man at the door, was-is your husband. We know you might not remember him so if you want him to leave you just say so and he’ll take a step outside okay?”

She agreed timidly and looked back over to her ‘husband’.

He slowly made his way past the doctor to take the seat facing her. He gently took her hand in his, glad that she squeezed his back and gave him a small smile

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I should never have let you drive off like that” he whispered, leaning down to kiss the back of her hand

“I’m sorry…I don’t know what you mean….where was I going?” she asked him quietly

“You were upset…we had a silly fight and you went out on a drive, I should’ve just apologised” he made up

“What was the fight about?” She wondered and he quickly thought of something

“I kept working late. You thought i was um…cheating on you… I brought up someone from your past that I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault” he told her while forcing tears to his eyes.

Her expression softened as she brought her other damaged hand to hold the ones on top of hers

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, i started the argument, and i chose to drive away” she convinced and he knew that this would be far simpler than he originally thought.

“I know that you don’t remember me…” he whispered with a sad smile “…but could i hold you for a moment?” He asked. He needed to know how hard it was going to be to gain her trust. He watched the reluctance seep into her before hesitantly nodding

“Okay..” she uttered before pushing herself forward to let him slip beside her, arm around her waist as he pulled her on top of him gently so her head to tuck under his chin.

“Does it hurt when i hold you sweetheart?” He asked softly, his arms lightly draped around her

“Only a little bit” she whispered

“Do you want me to let go?” He questioned, he didn’t want to scare her before she could fall in love with him

“No…you feel safe” she uttered while breathing in his scent from his henley. His lips upturned at her words, his hand holding the back of her head lovingly

“I’ll never let anything hurt you again” he promised

“What were we like before the argument?” She asked quietly

“We were…are very much in love. We have a beautiful house, with a lovely garden. I know how much you like to take care of your plants.” He murmured

“Where do i work now?” She queried

“You don’t actually, you stay at home. You wanted to be ready for when we started a family.” He told her and she subconsciously gripped his sleeve

“We were going to have a baby?” She whispered

“Yeah, we wanted two actually” he mused and she smiled slightly “of course…that won’t be happening soon…or ever maybe, it’s really up to you my love”

“Well- not soon or anything…maybe in a couple years? I’m sorry, I know you must’ve been excited and I don’t want to slow down your goals or anything-“ she sniffled softly curling to him

“No love, no it’s okay. I just want to keep you safe. We’re gonna go nice and slow, nothing you don’t want. I want you to be happy sweetheart” he promised while kissing her hair

“I think i could be happy with you…I loved you once right? So…so i can do it again” she nodded and he sighed happily

“Only if that’s what you want” he added while twirling a strand of her thick hair

“We’ll still move slow?” She checked

“As fast as you are comfortable with”

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tamsong · 1 year

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kotlc characters most to least likely to commit vehicular manslaughter

this is based on a post about stranger things so if you made that and ur seeing this ily

1. keefe. does not have his license. hit a mailbox on his first time driving and his dad refused to take him out anymore after that. alvar tried to teach him after that but after keefe accidentally skidded into a cornfield on a country road and scratched up alvar’s car, he decided to just Stop before further endangering anyone’s life. king of public transportation tbh

2. linh. this might be surprising, including to her, because linh thinks she’s good at driving but is absolutely not. either drives 20 under the speed limit or speeds 20 over. gets distracted easily and almost never has her eyes on the road, so she’d probably commit a hit and run and not even notice. somehow hasn’t done this yet.

3. sophie. failed her license test twice and only passed the third time because the instructor took pity on her. absolute menace on the roads, gets extremely stressed when there’s any amount of other cars around and loses most control of the vehicle. would be higher but she’s less likely to commit vehicular manslaughter and more likely to get rear ended by braking too quickly or jump the curb on a too-sharp turn.

4. biana. has gotten multiple tickets for distracted driving because of her attempts to talk to her passengers, apply mascara, and put her hair up all at once, not even mentioning how she blasts her music at eardrum-shattering volumes and can never hear when she’s being honked at. causer of road rage. doesn’t speed though so at least has that going for her.

5. fitz. neither of the younger vacker siblings are the drivers of the family. fitz drives normally until he makes a risky decision like plowing through an intersection right as the light turns red, or weaving between cars on the highway. suffers from murderous road rage whenever anyone else does these things. has invented at least a dozen new death threats. would not commit vehicular manslaughter but rather vehicular murder.

6. tam. decent driver but seems even better due to the vast difference of skills between him and linh. pretty confident in his ability, but does have the tendency to get way into his music, have to swerve to make his turn last minute, and then white-knuckle the wheel for the rest of the trip. otherwise pretty safe.

7. marella. you’d expect her to be worse, honestly, but marella learned to drive early in order to take her mom places after her head injury. takes great care of her passengers. however, when alone, marella’s notorious for texting and driving. claims she’s mastered the technique because she hasn’t fucked up yet. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.)

8. maruca. pretty safe driver, doesn’t do anything more egregious than a bit of tasteful speeding. unlikely to hit anyone because she stays unnecessarily far from the people in front of her.

9. dex. capable driver, probably because his dad has been illegally teaching him since age 12 in the slurps and burps parking lot.

10. wylie. very responsible, never goes more than three over the speed limit. the only reason he isn’t last is because Not being the one driving stresses him out so badly and he will yell at the person in the driver’s seat when they fuck up, which will probably make them fuck up even worse, causing an accident by proxy. for this reason he’s almost always the driver.

11. stina. she has to control rowdy horses all the time at home so a car is easy peasy. never give her aux though because she always defaults to country music

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc headcanon #kotlc headcanons #sophie foster #biana vacker #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #dex dizznee #linh song #tam song #marella redek #wylie endal #maruca chebota #stina heks

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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I’m rereading your bvd/cci/eds/migraine posts with interest, bc I’m coming at it from the other direction—cervical spine degeneration and my body’s compensation attempts being the cause of the vision and other neurological symptoms, where you seem to experience that compensating for the vision problems exacerbates the issues with your spine.

Did you end up trying the preemptive bracing, since you found that monthly hormone changes caused eds flareups and migraines? What kind of brace, if you don’t mind saying?

And do you find that chiropractic adjustments help or hurt more than massage?

Not asking you for medical expertise, but it is so nice to hear from people who are speaking from the lived experience.

Thank you!

I haven’t tried bracing my neck yet, no. I doubled down on cervical stability exercises in PT and that seems to be helping a bit more. (Though I am still on the lookout for a brace that doesn’t break me out in hives.)

And no, chiropractic adjustments of the neck are never recommended for anyone, but especially not for anyone with cervical instability issues. I found this out after a neck adjustment tore all the muscles in my neck and required me to have an MRI to look for a possible brain bleed after I started developing neurological symptoms from the injury. I was bedridden for weeks.

This was not a “bad” or wrongly performed adjustment: it’s just the risk of having your neck adjusted.

It’s been 5 years and I still don’t have full stability on the right side of my neck and often get tingling numbness on that side.

The spinal specialist I saw for my recovery told me he used to primarily see people with brain injuries from car crashes and construction accidents. Now most of his primary patients are people who saw chiropractors and had their necks adjusted.

I still sometimes see a chiropractor for mid and lower back adjustments, and my hips because those pop out of place fairly often and my chiro is better at getting them back in than the local urgent care, but my person uses gentle stretching motions rather than the more abrupt cracking motions. She also refuses to touch anyone’s neck ever. There are far too many vital nerves and blood vessels there to risk it. The fact that she knows this makes me feel safe entrusting my pain management to her.

Massage and physical therapy are how I manage my issues the best.

Mysofascial release therapy has been very helpful for me in reclaiming a lot of my range of motion, breaking up muscle adhesions and building healthy soft tissue. There’s some new-agey bullshit claims about it, but if you find someone who knows how to do it and who doesn’t believe the “cures cancer” horseshit (claims some chiropractors also make) it can be beneficial.

The real long term progress, however, has been from regular physical therapy from providers who know how to deal with my hypermobility.

#chronic health tag #body injury

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blooming-violets · 1 year

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My sister in Christ, first off, hi. Second off, amazing writing like *chefs kisses* all around.

I don't know if you're taking requests or not, so sorry if this is out of place. I would love you to smithereens if you did a part three for the Peter Parker car accident fic.

Maybe his girlfriend could come out of the coma but like need lots of help recovering mentally and physically? Idk, just an idea.

Xoxo 🕺💃🏽🕺💃🏽

The original car accident fic can be found [here] AND WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT but then turned into a part two [here] aaaaannnd now a part three.

It's pretty short but she's awake and alive and here to stay...and spilling all Peter's secrets but he ain't even mad about it because he's just happy she's alive.

She had been awake for exactly one week…if he could call it “awake”.

Coming out of a coma wasn’t anything like the way movies or shows portrayed it. May, and a few other nurses, tried to warn him as such but Peter was never very good at listening. She didn’t blink her eyes open and reach for his hand with a slightly confused smile. She didn’t ask how long it had been or what had happened to put her in the hospital. She didn’t seem relieved to be alive or happy to see him or even knew who he was. It was like she had no concept of being in the hospital at all. Her big eyes gave off vacant stares, almost as if she was sleeping with them open. When she spoke, her voice would be small and scratchy, and nothing she said made much sense. Sometimes she would fall asleep mid sentence. The doctor claimed that this was all normal. He heard the term “PTA” thrown around a lot. Or post-traumatic amnesia. It was apparently something that happens after a traumatic brain injury and is common among people waking from comas. He only half heard what the doctor’s said when they spoke to him. His focus was usually trained on his girlfriend.

Even though she looked rough, he liked seeing her without the tubes blocking half her face. Her eyes might be unfocused and her words might sound like she’s speaking a forgein language at times but she was conscious. Being conscious meant she could improve.

And she did. Day by day. Little by little.

Her memory was nearly nonexistent. She kept getting her dreams confused with reality. She would wake up and be absolutely certain that she had spent the evening dining on a cruise ship in the Alaskan waters. She would excitedly tell him how her boyfriend had managed to win the cruise tickets after competing in a pie eating contest and dominating the other competitors. Then she would pause, blink a few times while staring at his face, and laugh about how he looked just like her boyfriend. Peter would smile and tell her that he was glad she enjoyed her cruise ship dinner. And he was glad. If she got her dreams confused with reality, at least she was having good dreams, and he was present in them…even if she couldn’t make the connection between her dream boyfriend and himself being the same person.

A week after she woke up, her memory was still not right, but it was slowly getting better. Yesterday she had successfully remembered Peter’s face as being someone she knew. It was better than nothing. He pushed the elevator button to her level. Now that she was awake and stable, he felt less guilty running home to shower every few days. When the doors opened to the neuro recovery ward, he stepped out and smiled at the nurses behind their station.

“Hey there, Spider-Man!” One of them looked up with a sly grin. “Save any people last night?”

Peter’s smile faltered and his face immediately flushed as the panic rose, “...What?”

Alarm bells rang in his head. His heart pounded in his chest. How did they know? Did that paramedic say something? He should have never told her his name or taken off his mask in front of her. He thought he could trust her. If his secret got out-

A chorus of laughter followed his panicked spiral.

“Your girlfriend has been telling anyone who will listen that she’s dating the infamous Spider-Man. She claims that he once brought her on a rooftop date overlooking Rockefeller Center during the Christmas tree lighting. We never knew you were so romantic, Spidey.” The nurses giggled, clearly assuming that her words were nothing more than another confused, dream infused reality instead of the actual truth.

Peter forced a smile and took a shaky breath, “Ha, ya got me! It’s me, you’re friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, just swingin’ in to check on my girl.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. How lucky she is to have a real life superhero looking out for her,” she winked at Peter to indicate she was only teasing. “She’s doing well today! Go see if she can remember your face this morning. Don’t want her actually falling in love with Spider-Man instead of you.”

He let their jests fall into the background as he swiftly walked to her room. His heart was pounding in his chest. Not because he was angry she was out here spilling his secrets but because she actually remembered something. Last December he surprised her by setting up a rooftop picnic as they watched the giant tree light up. That was no dream she was recalling. That was a memory.

Peter burst into her hospital room to find May sitting by her bedside and speaking softly to her. He beamed at the two of them, jogging over to his girlfriend and planting a big, happy kiss on her cheek.

She made a face of disgust and turned to May, saying sarcastically, “Who does this nurse think he is? Personal space much? They’re gettin’ real friendly here.”

May chuckled under her breath, “Nurses these days are very hands on. Peter, honey, why don’t you have a seat? I was just about to leave and I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.” They often took turns watching over her as she didn’t have any family of her own.

She studied him from her hospital bed with wide eyes, analyzing his face, “Hey, I know you. Has my boyfriend ever saved you from a disaster? He’s Spider-Man. He saves people. We’re going to get married someday…probably…if he wants to. I’m going to have his Spider babies.”

May suppressed another laugh and patted her nephew’s arm, “She also had a very good dream about Spider-Man last night. I think you might have some competition on your hands.” She gave Peter a quick wink. “I’ve got to get home. I had a full night shift but I couldn’t leave without stopping in to say good morning to my favorite girl. You take care of her, honey. I’ll see you later.”

Peter waited until they were alone in the room before he turned to her with a big smile, pulling up a chair to her bedside, “You are an absolute nightmare, you know that? Almost gave me a damn heart attack today. Could you please do me a giant favor and stop telling everyone you meet my biggest secret?”

“Okay,” she stated with vacant ease. “What’s your secret?”

He laughed under his breath, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Her smile faded the longer she stared at his face. Her brows pinched together in thought. He could tell she had just remembered something and was working hard to put it into words.

“...Peter…” She whispered. “That woman called you Peter. That’s my boyfriend’s name. You look like him. You come here every day. You sit by me. You bring me flowers. You talk to me. You fall asleep in that chair every afternoon. You look just like him.”

He held his breath and nodded, silently watching her try to put the pieces together. It was like he could see her bruised brain starting to heal in front of his eyes.

“Why do you look like him?” She asked.

He blinked back the tears starting to press into his eyes, asking softly “Why do you think?”

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes intently studying him, “You’re Peter, aren’t you? My Peter. I think I know you. I think you might belong to me.”

His smile broke through the tears and he quickly cleared his throat, “Yeah. I belong to you.”

“Cool,” she sighed, sinking back into her pillows. Her face settled back in its placid, nearly vacant expression once more.

“I love you,” he whispered to her, terrified of letting the moment pass.

She turned her head back to face him, confusion pulling at her brows, but she flopped her hand out on the bed for him to take. He gladly accepted the offer. It was the first time since she woke up that she willingly reached out for him. His thumb brushed over her fingers as he relished in the feeling of holding her again. He would wait for her forever.

“I think I love you, too,” she whispered back, a tiny smile gracing her face. "Spider-Man."

#tasm #tasm x reader #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #spiderman #car accident fic #car accident #blooming-violets #blooming violets #blooming violets fic

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years

Text

Blood Doll

Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson (Angst)

Summary: Humans are such fragile creatures, a fact Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don't fully realize until they're not human anymore. They realize this after they accidentally hurt their favorite human: you. (Crossposted to AO3)

Rating: Mature 18+

Author Note: Gender neutral character, they/them pronouns used. VampireSteve and VampireEddie fics got me in a chokehold last night, then this idea happened and I absolutely had to drop everything to write it. It consumed my brain. Enjoy! 💜🖤

CW: Vampire stuff (blood drinking, possessive behavior, the change, turning people); slight Master/slave dynamic; accidental injuries because new vamps don't know their own strength; mentions of car wreck and fatal injuries but no descriptions.

Word Count: 2,573

Watching someone you loved get hurt was never a fun experience. No matter if you were hurting from being sick or hurting from an accident, Eddie was always beside himself when it happened.

Steve was too, if he were being honest, but he kept that hidden. It wouldn’t be proper as he had no claim on you. You were Eddie’s. That was established soon after they came back from the Upside Down and the change happened.

It began with Steve. While he didn’t know what was going on, he knew it had to do with the Upside Down. He did his best to hide it from you by saying he was coming down with something. That lasted a couple days until Eddie’s symptoms started. Since Eddie was hiding out in your trailer with you, there was no way for him to keep it from you. It wasn’t long before you found out about Steve and brought him to your trailer to take care of the both of them.

This turned out to be a good thing. The initial wave of hunger hit soon after Steve got there, two days after the symptoms started. It was an indescribable feeling, pain unlike anything he’d ever felt, and one that left him curled up on the floor of your living room, sobbing. No one knew what to do, you and Eddie just did your best to comfort him.

Then Steve’s fangs dropped.

You all had seen enough movies and read enough to know what that meant.

There was absolutely no hesitation from you, you immediately offered yourself to him to drink. Steve was your best friend, as was Eddie. It was a no brainer for you. It took some convincing, but he finally gave in.

It was an experience unlike anything Steve had ever felt before. It was intense, close to a religious experience he’d say if he had to describe it. He didn’t know if it was due to it being his first experience drinking blood, just your blood in particular or the feelings he’s had for you for so long, but he found himself wanting to possess you utterly. He knew he couldn’t, but it felt so right to have you in his arms like this, holding you close, his face against your neck. After a little bit, Eddie tugged at Steve’s arm, worried that he was taking too much. He reluctantly let you go, laying you down on the floor where he himself had been in agony just moments earlier, then quickly shifted his position to hide his erection. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life.

Steve felt amazing after drinking from you and quickly began to recover his strength, but you were exhausted. Unable to keep your eyes open, you ended up napping for a couple hours in that very spot but felt better upon waking.

You were never far from Steve’s thoughts and hadn’t been for years, but now he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a lightbulb. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, wanted you for himself in every way possible, but knowing he couldn’t act on it. You had never shown any interest in him like that before he was a vampire, so why would you have any now? Drinking from you didn’t give him any right to put any sort of claim on you.

When the hunger hit Eddie two days later, you were right there, immediately climbing into his lap and offering the other side of your neck. After realizing sitting across the lap like you had done with Steve wasn’t the most ideal position for either of you, you decided to try straddling Eddie’s lap instead so you could hold onto him better. Your arms went around his neck and Eddie slid his arms around you, pulling you a little bit closer.

Steve heard a deep groan leave Eddie’s throat shortly after his teeth pierced your flesh and he began drinking from you. He saw his grip on you tighten, one arm staying around your waist while the other hand came up to grip at the back of your head, holding you there. Your head tilted back as much as Eddie’s hand would let it, your eyes closing and your mouth falling open in a soft moan. You were gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders tightly, shivers going through your body. Steve watched as Eddie pulled you flush against him, his hips starting to roll upwards into yours. You didn’t seem to mind this though, grinding yourself down onto him in time with his movements.

It was the most erotic and intimate sight Steve had ever witnessed. He found himself drooling at the memory of how you tasted, getting hard at the thought of you grinding against him like that, and insanely jealous of Eddie getting to experience both of those right now. He realized he would’ve killed to switch places with Eddie right then.

Immediately, Steve felt shamefully guilty and averted his eyes. Despite the changes recently, despite the fact you were going to regularly let them both drink from you, the three of you were best friends. Nothing more.

Apparently, Eddie did not share that same opinion.

A little while before Steve was supposed to start breaking the two of you apart, Eddie did it on his own. A loud gasp left him as he ripped his mouth away from your neck, smearing blood across his face and your neck in the process. His fingers gripped tightly into your hair, maneuvering your head around so you were now face to face with him, and he was looking into your eyes.

“You are mine,” Eddie growled, and Steve saw your eyes widen as his own heart sank. “You can be Stevie Boy’s blood doll, but from now on, you belong to me. Understand, Princess?”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise and you nodded, slowly at first then more rapidly. Eddie grinned and pulled you to him in a hungry kiss.

Steve thought this would be a good time to give you two some privacy and quietly left. As he was leaving and shutting the door behind him, he heard the sounds of tearing fabric followed by a gasp of surprise from you.

A strict feeding schedule was established to allow you plenty of time to recover. It might not have been bad had you only been feeding one of them but being the blood doll for two vampires was a little much sometimes. They substituted with animal blood in between to give you longer periods to rest, but it wasn’t as good as what they started with. Nothing was as good as you.

When it was Steve’s nights to feed with you, Eddie would give you two privacy. He may have been willing to share his food, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see it or hear it. Even without sex, feeding was still a very intimate act. Watching Steve feed from you did the same things to Eddie as it did to Steve, plus he had the added possessiveness from staking his claim on you. Sometimes he would leave the trailer for a few hours to go exploring in the woods if he were feeling especially cooped up. Usually though, he would just stay in the living room and play music on the stereo loud enough to cover up any noises coming from the bedroom.

The two of you always laid under the covers of your bed once Steve was done drinking. After every feeding, you always took a nap. Both of the boys were in complete agreement to let you sleep as long as you needed to afterwards. Sometimes all you needed was a short nap, one or two hours at most; other times, you slept the whole night. But no matter how long you were out, whoever fed would stay with you. It helped soothe the flare of nerves and anxiety you sometimes had when you woke up. It also helped strengthen the bond you had with each of your best friends.

Well, “friends” wasn’t a really good word for what you were anymore but fuck if the three of you knew what to call it.

It was on one of Steve’s nights with you just a few weeks into this new dynamic when he first became aware of how fragile you really are.

You had just started to wake up, having been asleep for a little under six hours this time. Steve still had his arms around you when you stirred. He played with your hair, stroked your body, and placed soft kisses to the top and sides of your head until you finally sat up.

That’s when he noticed a light, hand shaped bruise on your upper arm, looking like someone had grabbed you.

Steve sat bolt upright and gently took hold of your arm to angle it for a better look.

“Did Eddie do this to you?” he asked, concerned.

He never would have pegged Eddie for the sort, but who else could it be?

“Hmm?” you said, looking down at your arm as you blinked sleep out of your eyes. “Oh, no, actually, that’s new. Must’ve happened when you were feeding earlier.”

Your words were casual, like they were no big deal. You even shrugged as you said it. But Steve felt like you had dumped ice water on him. He could see it now that you said it though. These were fresh, still in the process of fully forming and not even that dark yet. There’s no way Eddie could’ve done these.

“I hurt you?” he asked, swallowing heavily.

You turned to him, smiling reassuringly.

“You didn’t mean to,” you said, leaning forward to kiss him in the forehead. “And neither does Eddie. You two are a lot stronger now than you were before and…well… sometimes you both get a little carried away.”

Steve immediately called for Eddie, who came running, and they made you go over with them every time they had ever hurt you. Eddie was just as horrified as Steve, and you promised to tell them going forward when they were hurting you.

Your feeding related injuries lessened dramatically, but life still happened. They couldn’t stop you from getting sick. When you went through a particularly rough bought of the flu, fighting a fever for days, they were both beside themselves. There was nothing they could do but be there for you as you got better.

Accidental injuries still happened, too. Steve and Eddie couldn’t do anything about those either.

Just like they couldn’t have stopped the car wreck.

Steve got the news from Nancy. It was a drunk driver. Five cars were involved in the end, but your car took the initial collision head on. The news from the ICU was grim.

Steve broke the news to Eddie. He had to stop him from destroying the inside of your trailer in his rage.

Soon after, they had both snuck into the hospital and were at your bedside. The ICU was nearly empty. You were only one of two patients and there weren’t many nurses this late. Even still, Steve kept a lookout from a gap in the curtain while Eddie sat next to your bed, holding one of your hands in both of his and kissing the back of it.

“Should’ve tried when we found the bruises,” Eddie mumbled against your skin.

It wasn’t the first time he had said this tonight. He blamed himself for not keeping you safe, felt like he failed at the only thing he was charged with now. He felt it was not only his duty as your lover but his obligation as your owner. In Eddie’s mind at this point, the best way could’ve done this was to turn you. Then you would’ve been able to survive a head on collision.

“We don’t even know if that would’ve worked,” Steve said, sighing. “We turned just from getting bitten, but Y/N hasn’t turned from either of our bites.”

“M-maybe it’s like in the movies,” Eddie said quickly, looking at his friend with a panicked expression. “M-Maybe they need to drink from us, too.”

Steve just shook his head. He didn’t know what to say anymore that might calm Eddie down. He was grasping at straws, trying to delay admitting what was the inevitable.

They were going to lose you. Steve knew it. As much as it killed him, he knew it. But, on the other hand, it churned his stomach seeing the damage done to you. Maybe the inevitable would be better for you than this.

“Y/N is really into you too, you know.”

Eddie’s voice was soft, barely as loud as the machines currently keeping you alive.

Steve’s gaze shot back up to him, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“We were talking about it one night after their nap,” Eddie continued, still looking at you. “Apparently, they had the hots for both of us for years, didn’t think either of us felt the same way though.”

Steve blinked, his heart jumping in his throat.

“Maybe before you,” he finally said. “Doubtful Y/N still feels that way though.”

“This was just a few days ago,” Eddie replied. “And I’ve gotta tell you, I wouldn’t mind since it’s you. In my mind, you have just as much of a claim as I do.”

The small space got extremely quiet save for the machines. Eddie turned to look at him and two men stared at each other. Steve could see his friend wasn’t joking. There was also a desperation in Eddie’s eyes, as if begging for permission.

“Do it,” Steve finally said with a sigh. Then he fixed Eddie with a serious look. “But if this works, and if Y/N still wants anything to do with us afterwards, we’re all going to sit down and have a long, serious talk about how our relationship will be going forward.”

Eddie nodded rapidly, a look of relief on his features. He kissed the back of your hand one last time before gently sitting it down on the bed and getting to work.

Two days later, Steve got word that your vital signs were failing. You passed on two days after that.

In keeping with the timeframe of everything happening within two days after the initial bite, Steve figured if you were going to wake up, it would be that same night. Eddie and Steve snuck into the morgue to sit with you. Just like when you woke up from your post feeding naps, they felt like they should be there with you if you woke up from this nap too.

The clock ticked by. Minutes turned into hours.

Nothing happened.

Finally, it was time to leave. They had enough time to get to back to your trailer before sunrise and still have plenty of wiggle room in case of unexpected surprises. Steve said goodbye first, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Eddie was next, placing his kiss to you lips instead, a tear falling onto your cheek.

As they headed for the door, side by side, Steve reached over and patted Eddie on the back. Eddie briefly glanced at his friend in acknowledgment before shifting his eyes back to the floor.

“…Eddie…Steve?”

Steve and Eddie both came to a halt, then looked at each other with wide eyes.

“…The hell are we?”

#vampire!steddie x reader #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steddie #vampire!steve #vampire!eddie #steddie x reader #vampire eddie munson

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