Musicals x Reader OneShots

Davey Jacobs x Reader (Newsies) +~Fluff~+

Requested?: yes indeed, by @CaptainSwanEriel

Title: Overworked

(y/n)'s POV

I hummed to myself as I folded the newly washed clothes, ignoring the hunger pangs that aches in my empty belly. It was fine, I'd eat a meal tomorrow.

Davey and I had been saving up to get out of this cramped apartment, so I figured if I just ate less and didn't spend as much money on food it would help. It was temporary, and I'd be fine. Sure, I felt weak and hollow, but I was used to that. I'd grown up on the streets and gotten a job as a seamstress when I was 13, after all.

I was no stranger to an empty belly, so I'd just wait it out.

I faintly heard the front door open and close, signaling that my lovely husband had gotten home. I turned, smiling softly at him. He was tall as ever, he could hardly fit through the doorway without ducking. His chocolate brown hair was messy, and his nice shirt had been unbuttoned a bit.

"Hey, (y/n). How was your day?" He asked gently, immediately sitting on the couch and gesturing for my to join him. It was a mossy green and a ratty old thing, but still comfortable. I could see the exhaustion wearing him down.

"Good, how was yours?" I answered simply, taking a spot right next to him, immediately snuggling into his side. He was soft and warm, and in his presence I could forget the pain in my body.

"It was fine, better now that I'm with you. Are you alright? You look pale." He examined me, the concern written all over his face. I wanted to answer no, that I hadn't slept or eaten in days, that I wanted a break from life, that I felt like I was dying. I wanted to say that my body felt heavier with every step I took.

But I didn't. Instead, I smiled pleasantly.

"I'm fine, darling. Just a tad bit tired. I should get back to work, a client needs the buttons on his shirt replaced by tomorrow morning and I'm only halfway done." I said, getting up, despite the fact that it felt like lead filled my veins.

I immediately felt like I was falling and lost consciousness, with my brain feeling like my head was stuffed full of cotton.

Davey's POV

I launched forward to catch my wife, heart lurching as she fell into my arms. I immediately set her on the couch, feeling her forehead in fear of a fever.

Her forehead wasn't and warmed than normal though, so what could it be?

As I fretted, searching through possibilities, I heard a low growl. I looked around for a second before realizing where it came from.

She was hungry.

Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen her eat in a couple days. She was always so busy repairing clothes that she didn't eat dinner with me, and the leftovers that were supposed to be her meal would still be there, carefully prepped so they wouldn't mold.

She also never went to bed with me, and when I woke up she was gone, but I knew that she had to be at work earlier than me.

I furrowed my brows, getting up to make her some soup. The kitchen and entryway were attached in our tiny apartment, so I could keep a close eye on her.

Seconds seemed like hours as I prepared the soup for (y/n), only taking my eyes off her when I needed to. When she stirred, my heart stopped.

I was by her side in a second, crouched next to the couch with my thoughts leaving my mouth before I could even catch them.

"(y/n), are you okay? When was the last time you ate or slept? Why didn't you tell me-" I said, panicking. She blinked, her (e/c) eyes bleary with sleep.

"Slow down, Dave." She groaned slowly. I examined her, how small she'd been recently. I could practically see her ribs through the fabric of her dress.

"(y/n), why didn't you tell me you were overworked? I could have taken more hours if it really-" I scolded, anger and sadness and fear all swirling together in my head as I looked at her. I wasn't really angry at her, I was madder at myself. I never noticed that my own wife was suffering. What kind of husband just ignores the signs that his wife isn't okay?

"I didn't want you to notice, you get so worried and I'm fine, baby, really." She said softly. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"No you're not, but I'll make sure you're fine soon. You go back to sleep, I'm making soup. After you eat, I'll carry you to bed. I'll ask Sarah to come over and finish the buttons on the shirt. I worry about you because I cant lose you, and you know that." I fretted, trying to be calm for her sake.

She nodded, turning over to get some much needed rest. I smiled softly, kissing her hair before getting back to work on my soup.

How could I get so lucky as to have this gorgeous person as my wife?

(876 words)