#I think ive made it clear by usually being unable to even remember things that happened in the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsukisbimbo · 4 years ago

Text

bun bun

✯ pairing: usagiyama rumi x reader

✯ synopsis: everything changed for you when your favourite hero, usagiyama gets thrown inside your shop.

✯wordcount: 12.4k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, wlw, swearing :))

✯ note: this is dedicated for lovely andrea <3 aka ms @kagsbuns !! I think I got carried away tho. this was only supposed to be 10k max, but at 9k I still didn’t get to the conflict so here we are LOL. I hope u guys enjoy!! this is my first time writing something so long!

You sighed as you used you picked up the heavy basket of apples. Your day usually consisted of tending to your growing vegetables in the early morning, before picking and washing the ripened vegetables and fruit. Using some fresh peppers from your garden to spice up your usual omelette for breakfast, then getting ready for work.

You currently owned a cute little produce market in the middle of the city, which was only a twenty-minute walk from your home. Your small shop was mostly frequented by old folks and young moms buying fruits and veggies for their children.

You loved your work and your life, tending to vegetables and fruits and selling them. Your work helped you produce a schedule, a schedule that kept you sane.

You smiled as Ms. Takeshi walked in, smiling at you before browsing through her favourite strawberries that you had just picked and washed this morning. “Good morning lovely! Your fruits and vegetables look wonderful today! Did you also make some of my favourite banana bread?” She queried as she made her way to the display case where you kept your freshly made pastries.

“Of course Ms. Takeshi! I already wrapped it up for you!” you handed the bag over to her. “You’re going to be a great wife one day lovely” She smiles as she leaves the door, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth. Your smile dropped as you activated your quirk. You had a plant quirk, pretty convenient for your work. You were able to manipulate plants and grow them to your will.

Large vines soon began to rise from your potted plants as you started to organize some of your products, not liking how they looked. You rolled your eyes as you recalled what Ms. Takeshi had said to you. Every morning was the same thing with her. Some days she would even try to set you up with her grandson. Yes, you were only 19, turning 20, but you already had everything you wanted. Plus, you didn’t play for the other team.

You were more of a “We fell in love in October” kinda gal.

Your thoughts were swiftly interrupted at the sound of a body getting thrown inside your shop, soon landing right in front of you. It took you two seconds to register that a body just flew into your shop and ruined your blueberries, and another two seconds to figure out that this body belonged to the Rabbit Hero: Mirko herself. You gasped softly as you pried her body out of the rubble with your vines.

You propped her up onto your counter before wrapping your vines around her once more, with the purpose to heal her bruised body. You concentrated your power as you continued to heal her, your vines sprouting flowers and glowing with a light yellow hue.

You had to restrain yourself from cooing when you saw her nose twitch. It wasn’t known that you were fond of heroes. Everyone had assumed that you had no interest in it, when in fact, you’ve been a huge fan of Mirko’s for some time. You did have other heroes you liked, but Mirko had your attention and heart.

You struggled to breathe as you felt your energy being sapped out of your body. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to take, especially when you had only used your quirk for meagre housework, up until now that is. You suddenly jolted in surprise when Mirko’s arm shot up and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, bringing your face barely ten centimetres away from hers.

As her mouth opened to speak, another crash occurred nearby, making both of your heads snap up in the direction of the noise. You gaped as you saw the wrongdoer slowly walk towards your shop. “Mirko-san, please get up” you shakily whispered to her.

She laughed at your cute shivering figure before jumping up on top of the counter. “Come at me bitch!” she provoked before they hastily jumped her. You quickly threw yourself out of the way and hid behind your apples. “Hey! Baby carrot!” she hollered as she pinned down the villain. “Get out of here!” Rumi growled. You immediately shook your head, small tears sliding doing your cheeks.

“I-I can’t! I’m not gonna let either of you mess up my shop!” you weakly yelled as you somehow mustered up enough strength to summon your largest vines, speedily sending them towards the villain and entrapping them, leaving Mirko to gape at your work. She whistled as she observed the vines twining around the body of the unfortunate villain. ‘T-That’s kinda hot, not gonna lie’ she thought in her head before successfully knocking the villain out with one kick.

“Hey, you okay there?” she questioned as she looked at your trembling figure. You felt unable to respond to her query, your throat suddenly closed up. You let out a squeak in response before feeling your knees buckle, your body quickly tumbling to the ground. Before you could even graze the wooden floor, Miruko already had her arms wrapped around you, carrying your unconscious body princess style, your face nuzzled onto the top of her breast.

“My poor bunny” she cooed before wiping the sweat off your brow, taking you to the closest ambulance to get the both of you checked out.

___

You groaned as the exhaustion started to seep into your body. Your head was killing you. You peeled your eyes open, expecting to see your room, only to see a blindingly white hospital room. A few machines monitoring your blood pressure and heart rate had been situated by your side, along with your IV drip which was currently connected to your left arm.

“I see you’re up” voice booms, making their presence known.

You turned to see Mirko, sitting on the couch, clad in civilian clothing. You blushed as her outfit consisted of a black leather jacket, accompanied by tight black jeans, a white v-neck shirt, and chunky leather shoes. To sum it all up, she looked delectable. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight of your hero crush. What was she doing here in the first place? Wasn't she supposed to be on patrol or something? What was she doing, wasting her time on a girl like yourself?

You cleared your throat before piping up. “W-why’re you here?” you questioned before quickly averting your gaze.

“You saved my life, my little carrot” She started, standing up and making her way towards your bed. You felt yourself slightly flinch back, intimidated by both her figure and her aura. Mirko had an intense vibe that made you want to crawl into a hole and die. The way she carried herself was both overwhelming and admirable. She was just so captivating, it was like-

“Hey. Hey!” she snapped her fingers in your face. “What’s wrong carrot? Are you nervous? Last time I saw you, you were brimming with complete and utter confidence. Well, kinda, but you were still badass. Are you a badass or was that just a facade to impress lil ol’ me? Hm?” she teases, her face nearing yours.

“I-I no! I mean y-yes! Um!” you felt yourself about to tear up from embarrassment. You were humiliating yourself in front of your favourite hero. You sputtered once more before deciding to just shut your mouth, staring at your lap where your hands were neatly folded.

“What’s wrong carrot? Do I make you nervous?” she taunted.

God, now you wanted to cry.

You felt your tears starting to arise, your throat closing up. Your lips were quivering. You tense your jaw to prevent any whimpers from slipping out, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further. Mirko's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. She made her poor carrot cry!

She immediately took your hands off of your lap, bringing one of your hands to rest against her soft cheek. She then gave your palm a soft kiss. “Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to tease ya that much!”. You just nodded as you felt yourself become light-headed at her actions. The Pro-Hero Mirko just kissed your palm. She just kissed your palm. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

You were unaware of how to act in front of her as you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself any further than today. You would always remember the time you embarrassed yourself in front of your hero crush.

“What happened by the way? Why am I here?” you piped up, taking the time to admire her bright and shining face.

“Well, I accidentally got thrown into your shop and got knocked out. You used your little vines to help me out! I passed out a little, but the villain came, and I tried to fight him, but before I could do some real damage, you stepped in and told us that you weren’t about to let us ruin your shop and apprehended the villain by yourself! I didn’t know you had it in ya! I was so surprised but I managed to knock out the fella! You also ended up passing out dear! I had to catch ya and carry you to the ambulance myself!” She grinned, playing with your fingertips.

“I’m so sorry“ you cried, gripping tightly onto her fingers. “I didn’t mean to make your job harder for you! I‘m only nineteen and I don’t have enough money to repair any of the damages! Are there even damages? For sure there are!” you were about to cry again. Everything was just so overwhelming that your first reaction was to cry.

You’ve only met Mirko and you’ve managed to embarrass yourself three times.

“Don’t worry about it, carrot. I already took care of the damages, because I was the one who got thrown into your shop. Don’t worry about being a crybaby either. It’s cute” she gave you her signature toothy grin.

“I-Thank you! Thank you so much Mirko-san!” You cried, bowing as low as you could in your state.

“Don’t worry about it” she brushed off.

“Please! I have to repay you somehow! I can give you a free produce? I can make your bread? I can't offer much” your brows furrowing. You wanted to repay her.

“Yeah? I’ll think of something, cutie. Anyways, I gotta run, I’ll see you around yeah?” She quipped before making her way out of her room, giving you one last smile before exiting.

You had it bad for her. For sure.

___

It’s been a week since you were discharged from the hospital, you didn’t have any fatal wounds but was only admitted for overusing your quirk, you didn’t use your quirk for anything as exhausting as apprehending a criminal.

You sighed as you continued to tend to your vegetables, already missing a certain someone’s presence. Meeting with her, even for such a short time was an experience.

You clicked your tongue as you checked the time, you only had half an hour to make your way to work and set up your produce.

You wondered if you would be able to see her again.

You continued to bustle around, seeing Ms. Takeshi rushing inside. “Oh my goodness! Are you all right lovely? I heard about the attack! Thank goodness you’re okay!” she continued to check your body for any bruises or wounds, sighing in relief when she found none.

“I’m fine Ms. Takeshi! I wasn’t attacked, a Pro got thrown into my shop.. and she saved me” your mind drifted to the memory of Mirko lunging at the criminal, putting her body in front of yours to shield you from any attacks.

“She saved me” quipped up a voice.

Both you and Ms. Takeshi had whipped your head around, seeing Mirko, clad in her hero costume with her hand on her hip. She smirked at your bewildered reaction before moving further into the store.

“M-Mirko-san! What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest, I was in the area and I just missed your face” she walked around, admiring the large carrots you had grown in your garden.

“Y-you missed me? I-I missed you too, M-Mirko-san..” you blushed, averting her piercing gaze. “You’re such a precious carrot, call me Rumi” she offered, stretching her hand out to yours in a handshake, you hesitantly took it, noting how her hand dwarfs yours.

“I couldn’t possibly!” releasing her hand. “Why not? We’re friends aren't we?” your eyes widened at her implication that you two had something more than just a fan and idol relationship.

“I-I YES! Of course, we are!” you rushed, not wanting to upset her. If she was willing to call you her friend then who were you to disagree? Not everyone has the chance to be friends with their favourite idol.

Ms. Takeshi smirked as she watched the exchange between the two, noting how each of them had quite a fond look in their eyes. She shook her head as she signalled you that she was about to leave, you gave her a hasty goodbye before going back to Mirko-- or Rumi, as she preferred.

‘Those two are getting together’ Ms. Takeshi absently thought, smiling at the thought of you finally having the companion you deserved.

“This is a cute place ya got here, it's almost as cute as you” she flirted, smirking at your abashed expression. Normally you would have cringed at such a cheesy line, but to be honest, it hit a little different when it was Rumi who was saying it. “I’m not cute!” you huffed. You were a strong independent woman! You were not cute.

As you continued to stew in your thoughts, Rumi proceeded with exploring your cute little shop, sampling some fruits as she passed by. “D’ya have any family here?” she queried, popping a plump, red strawberry in her mouth, almost gasping at the sweetness and freshness of the berry. “I don’t actually! I moved here just a year ago to start the shop I've been dreaming about ever since I was a kid!” you smiled, recalling the obstacles you had gone through to reach your goal.

“That's good! It’s good to have goals you want to work towards, it keeps people motivated”

“How about you Rumi-san? Do you have any family here?” you piped up, curious of her families’ whereabouts. Did she live here alone? There was only so much information that could be disclosed to the public about heroes and their personal lives.

“They don’t live here. They’re back in my hometown. It’s nice living out here, I get to do what I want, save all the people I can, and kick as much as... Though, there are times where I miss my family... They’re a rambunctious and chaotic bunch I tell ya!” she chortled.

You felt yourself melt at the very thought of Rumi with her family, playing and spending time with her small cousins/siblings. If someone were to describe the look on your face, they would have immediately said that you looked either lovesick or had heart eyes. You blushed at the thought of spending time with Rumi and just being gay <3 with each other. You honestly needed to get a love life, it isn’t normal to fantasize about your idol, especially when they’re right in front of you.

Rumi noticed that you were mentally elsewhere, smiling at your dumbstruck expression. What were you thinking about that was more interesting than her? Was it perhaps Rumi herself? She shook her head, trying to disperse her somewhat indecent thoughts. It wasn’t proper to ogle or fantasize about your friend.

“Hey, can I get your number?” she piped up, causing you to snap out of the internal conflict you were previously having about yourself. “W-what?” you stuttered, unbelieving of the fact that she, Usagiyama Rumi, had just asked for your number. Plain, old, little you! This was an absolute dream.

You quickly nodded, having no words as you haven’t fully processed her question or the meaning of it. You struggled to extract your phone from the pocket of your overalls. Curse women's clothing and their tiny pockets! Rumi laughed at your struggles, loving at how you scrunch your cute little nose when you feel feelings of frustration.

“Aha! I got it!” you cheered, fist-pumping with your phone in your hand, before sheepishly handing your phone to her. Rumi raised a brow. “Is this me as your lock screen?” she smirked.

At this point, you were begging the Gods, any God, to take your soul. You did not understand how you could have forgotten such a crucial thing! You were an idiot! A dumbass!

“And, did you edit yourself in the picture so it looked like we took a picture together?”

You felt your brain short circuit. You froze up, unblinking and unbreathing. Rumi didn’t mean to tease you so much. You were just adorable! The fact that you had been too shy to ask her for a picture and kept the edited one as your lock screen amused her to no end. She just wanted to eat you up!

As she continued to gush about your cute habits and you in general, you were tearing yourself up inside. You thought you had changed your lock screen a few days ago! It was a picture of Rumi as well, but you weren’t included. She must think you’re desperate! Or a stalker. Or worse! A desperate stalker!

“Lord, please take me” you whispered, hoping that someone would grant your wish this time. “What was that baby carrot? You want me to take you? I don’t mind, but I wanna get to know you better first”

Your jaw dropped at Rumi’s insinuation. “I’m kidding! You're adorable. C’mere” she beckoned, not wanting to keep her waiting you immediately made your way towards her side, her muscular arm scooping you up and pressing you against her warm body.

“R-Rumi-san..! What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture ya dummy! Make this your lock screen okay? I want everyone to know” she winked. She pressed her face against yours before capturing a picture. You felt as if your face was on fire. She was smashed against you! “Hey, you okay with fanservice?” she asked, you nodded your head, curious of what she had under her sleeve.

Rumi soon grabbed a hold of your chin before pressing her soft lips against the chub of your cheeks. She quickly snapped the picture, capturing your embarrassed face. She let go of you, opting to check the pictures to see if they had come outright. “You want one more baby carrot?” she mused, peering at your warmed face.

You slowly nodded your head, she threw her head back and laughed, coming over once more and wrapping you in her arms. This time, she walked, well, more like waddled, as you were in her arms, to put your phone on the counter, setting the timer for three seconds. She hugged you tightly, resting her head on top of yours.

Since she was already taking pictures, might as well request some poses right?

“Can we do peace signs? I… I like peace signs” you mumbled, twiddling with your thumbs. “Oh gosh, you're adorable!” she gushed. “Peace!” the both of you posed as the flash went off.

You ran back to your phone, eager to see how the pictures had turned out while Rumi had stayed behind, watching your excited figure. Your eyes lit up as you examined the photos you both had taken. They were adorable! “Rumi-san looks very pretty” you mumbled, unaware that she was now peering over your shoulder and heard what you had said.

“You gotta stop tempting me, baby carrot. As I said, I wanna get to know you better” she smiled. You blushed. This was the second time she had mentioned that. Does she like you as well? You felt a little bold so you decided to take your opportunity to fluster her as well.

“If you wanna get to know me better, why not go to lunch with me?” you offered, slyly smiling at how her jaw was left ajar. “Y-You cheeky little brat! If you're free right now we can go but it’ll be my treat okay?” she insisted, raising her brow as if to say ‘are you going to say no to free food’.

You nodded and agreed, who were you to say no to free food? Especially free food with your favourite hero/crush. She extended her hand towards you and you gladly took it, lacing your fingers with hers, loving how both of your hands fit perfectly within each other.

“Let’s go baby carrot. I’ll make sure to feed you lots”

___

“Nooo-- Rumi no more!”

“It’s okay carrot, I know you want more” she smirked

“I can’t! I-It’s too much” you moaned, rubbing your bloated stomach with both of your hands. Both of you had eaten too much chicken! Rumi decided to challenge you to an eating challenge, ordering a whole 10 piece box for each of you. That, plus the drinks and fries she had ordered on the side.

“Awh you’re so cute, for sure you’ll be sleepy” she cooed, propping her chin upon her fist. “I’m thankful for you Rumi-san, but if I eat more, I’ll surely explode” you cried, wanting to just go home and nap. You closed your eyes and leaned back. You couldn’t even breathe properly anymore! She was going to stuff you full! [;)]

“Hye, carrot. I gotta ask since I want both of us to be on the same page. Was this a date? I mean, would you consider this a date?” she sheepishly asked, bringing warmth to your cheeks. You didn't perceive this as a date, since you two never really outright stated it was a date, but it did seem date-ish.

Rumi watched as you struggled to come up with an answer. “Ah! I didn’t mean to pressure you carrot! I’m sorry! I-I just really like you, and if you didn’t consider this as a date, I would like to take you out--that's only if you agree! As I said, no pressure cutie”

What was she talking about? This was so much pressure! On the bright side, your crush likes you back. This was a miracle! She was famous on top of that1 not that you liked her for her popularity, but she could have anyone, and she chose you! You had to thank which God was looking out for you, or if it was just your luck. Either way, you’ve been manifesting this for some time. Not exactly this situation, but you had actively been looking for a partner, a female partner at that. You didn’t want anything serious, shoutout to Ms. Takeshi though, she was trying at least.

“I like you Rumi-san and I considered this as a date! And.. and I want to go on more dates with you!” you nearly yelled, causing some heads to turn. This had caused Rumi to gasp, scrambling out of her chair to sit beside you and engulf you in her arms, nuzzling her soft cheek against yours.

“You’re so cute! I swear! Let me take you home! I just wanna eat you!” she gushed, uncaring of the peering eyes in the restaurant who had been watching the whole exchange. “R-Rumi-san! How lewd!” you grimaced. sure was a handful.

“I’m sorry, cutie! I just can’t help it! You make me wanna go feral” she growled the last bit, feeling a coil in your lower tummy tighten. What was she doing to you? Did someone hit you with a quirk? This was crazy!

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. You and I are going to get to know each other better okay? Okay, carrot?” She grinned, peeking down at your flustered expression. This was going to be something else.

___

Lately, you and Rumi have gotten closer. You both had started to frequently text and call each other, though you have been a little timid during phone calls. They were mostly carried by Rumi and her extroverted personality. You hope she knew that you were just shy and that you weren’t losing interest in her.

Your relationship with Rumi had no label, at least for now. You both decided that it would be wise to learn about each other before making rash decisions. Especially you. You had a habit of running off in tandem and making yourself worry about scenarios that have zero percent of happening. Good thing Rumi was there to calm your nerves.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you had failed to notice the stop sign in front of you, promptly running into it and talking on your butt. Luckily, nobody except a small child had seen you embarrass yourself. That’s what you thought at least, until—

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?! My poor little carrot didn’t see the stop sign! Are you okay? Do you need to be taken to the hospital? I can take you!” She rambled as she checked your body for any extensive injuries, sliding her hands down the curve of your ass in the process. You didn’t wanna go to the hospital as you would be an unnecessary burden to all the medical staff. It was still better to be safe than sorry.

She was a different breed.

“I can’t help it, I just.. I care about you” she murmured, facing off to the side to hide her warming cheeks from your view. She was adorable! Is this what she felt when she saw you blush? It was a nice feeling. Like eating really good food. Rumi blushing was good food.

“Well, um, if you don't wanna go to the hospital, do you just want to come over for dinner or something?” she offered. “Aren’t you patrolling right now Rumi-san? I would hate to impose and possibly get you in trouble with your work” you sheepishly looked away from her gaze, unable to compete with the intensity her eyes hold, as if she wasn't a quivering little mess two seconds ago as well.

“Nah. I can get someone to cover for me. Let me call them right now so that I can put your mind at ease yeah?” she detached herself from you and went to grab her phone strapped on the side of her somewhat revealing hero costume. You never really noticed it but Rumi’s costume was, how do you say this, very sexy. At least to you.

You shook your head as dirty thoughts soon started to fill your head. This was wrong! Rumi-san is a strong beautiful woman who shouldn’t be objectified! She does not deserve that! Though she looked very beautiful in it, that was for sure.

As you continued to have another internal battle with yourself, Rumi had already dialled Hawks’ number.

“Yo Hawks! It's Mirko! I need a favour!”

“What is it?”

“Please cover for me. I’m on patrol and I just asked my crush out for dinner at my place but she’s iffy because she doesn’t want me to get in trouble for ditching my patrol--”

“You are ditching your patrol though” he replied. Rumi can already see Hawks using this against her.

“PLEASE! She’s so beautiful and I like her so much” Rumi practically begged.

“Fine, but I’m doing this because you’ve never seemed so serious for anyone before and I’m happy for you. You don’t have to owe me” he sighed, but Rumi knew that he didn’t mind at all.

“Thank you so much! Bye! Muah!” she yelled, before facing you. “Hey little carrot, you can come over! I told you my friend was gonna cover me” she smiled, her shiny teeth showing. “I-I..let’s go!” you blushed, wanting to be able to hide your cheeks from her.

“H-Hey, slow down! Plus I haven’t got any ingredients! We gotta go shopping first!”

“S-shopping? Together? That’s quite domestic”

“Better get used to it”

___

“Are you allergic to anything my little carrot?” she questioned, wanting to know which ingredients she should take. “Ah! I’m allergic to shellfish” you mentioned. “I get hives and sometimes my throat closes up”. You stressed that your allergy wasn’t a big deal, but Rumi thought otherwise. “Hm, no seafood then” she pondered on what to get next. “How about pasta?”

“Oh-I still eat shellfish, but just not often” you spoke, hoping she would overlook this small thing. “That’s not good carrot! You can die like that!” she yelled, catching the attention of most of the customers within the vicinity. “R-Rum-san! Not so loud!” you mumbled, tugging onto the fabric of her hero costume. “I’m okay Rumi-san! I promise!”

Her concern for you was adorable. Nobody had ever really cared for you like this. You knew your limits and everything, and everyone knew as well, but it was a nice change. The way Rumi cared for you gave your tummy butterflies. Her smile, the way she spoke. You might be in love. For sure, it’s too soon to tell. You’ve also never felt love other than familial love or love for your friends, but you were sure this was love.

You haven't known Rumi for a long time, but love isn’t about the time you spend, it’s the experiences you both share. If you could describe the way you felt in a word, it would be love. The way Rumi plagued your mind 24/7, the way you felt your heartbeat a little harder than it usually does. This felt like love. Of course, you weren’t about to tell her, but you already had a love for her from the beginning. It had just grown into something more than idolization for her the more you got to know her. Loving Rumi gave you absolute euphoria. Even if her feelings for you were platonic.

“Hey, baby carrot? Let’s go?” she asked, already pulling you towards the exit of the store, waving at some fans who had called out her name.

You were still lost in thought. You never understood why she was attracted to you, it wasn’t love, but even her attraction was questionable. To you, it seemed like a whole joke. The fact that your idol even offered to cook for you was baffling, not even that, the fact that she even spoke to you was a miracle itself. You felt tears well up in your eyes. There was just no way that Rumi would actually like you.

Too lost in your head, you bumped into Rumi who had suddenly stopped, though she wasn’t facing you. She tightened her grip on your hand “I can smell your tears, why are you crying Y/n?” she whispered before whipping around to face you. Her face was riddled with sadness, her ears flopping down at the sides of her face. “D-Did I do something?” she stuttered. She loosened her grip on your hand, letting go completely.

You felt your heartthrob in your chest. That was the exact opposite! You were crying because you were happy with her, too happy almost. You never wanted it to end. You sobbed a little harder before running to her, burying your face into her chest. Her arms wrapped around you, rubbing your back and pressing soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry! I’m a crybaby! I was crying because spending time with you made me happy! Very happy! I don’t want it to stop! I wanna stay with you forever Rumi-san!” you cried, hugging her tighter as if she was about to evaporate into thin air and never come back. “Baby... I...Can I kiss you?” she whispered, bringing her warm hand to rest upon your tear-stained cheek.

Your eyes widened. Did she want to kiss you? Well, who were you to deny her? You nodded your head and shut your eyes, feeling the press of her lips against yours. She pressed multiple kisses against your lip before swiping her tongue against your bottom lip, causing you to let out a soft whimper at the contact.

She grinned and did it once more, this time letting go of the groceries in her hand before pressing you into the bricked walls of the alleyway. Rumi had her hand on your hip and the other against your cheek, your arms wrapped around her and tangled in her soft, silky hair. You moaned as she pried her way into your mouth, exploring it with her tongue before you let out a whine that caught her attention.

She pulled away to see the work she had done, she had left you flustered and fucked out, just from a kiss. She leaned over to press another soft kiss onto your lips before slowly pulling away again. “I like you, so please believe me when I say so. I want to have more good memories with you. Don’t cry okay? You have me, and I’ll never let go” she whispered before rubbing her nose against yours.

You giggled as she pulled away, almost surprising her. It was stupid of you to think so negatively. You knew that Rumi would never do anything to hurt you, well, not on purpose at least. You nodded before picking up the groceries on the floor. You smiled. “Let’s go home, Rumi-san”

Her eyes sparkled at the fact that you had called her apartment “home”. She quickly nodded before helping you with the bags, opting to hold all with her one hand so that she could use the other to hold yours.

___

“We’re finally here!” yelled, making her way to the kitchen to drop off the groceries, you took off your shoes before entering and following her. Her apartment was pretty luxurious. It was one of those gated places that needed I.D and permission to enter, in other words, it was high end. It was to be expected honestly, she was a very famous hero who had some very..determined fans.

Her apartment was mostly white, it didn’t have that many decorations, mostly since Rumi was quite a simple person who had no desire for such things. She did have matching furniture though. You walked through the living room, taking a moment to gaze at her white and grey furniture. It all matched! She had a knack for interior design. If she wasn’t a pro, she would have made some money off being an interior designer.

You finally made your way into the kitchen. Seeing Rumi already putting the groceries away, setting out the ingredients. You gaped at the various ingredients laid out on the counter, why hadn’t you noticed the number of ingredients she had picked up?! There were quite a few.

“Rumi-san? Why’d you get so many ingredients?” you queried, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “Cuz! We’re gonna make a lot of food!” she cheered, raising her fist that was currently holding a pork bun, slightly squishing it and slightly deforming it.

“R-Rumi-san the pork bun!”

“Oh, haha! Sorry about that baby carrot” she apologized before splitting it in half and pressing it against your lips. Did she want to share? A-And feed you as well? You couldn’t refuse so you shyly took a bite, taking a small piece of the pork bun in your mouth and chewing. You moaned at the wonderful flavours dancing on your tastebuds, this tasted so good! It was still quite warm as well.

As the both of you continued to stand in eat in the kitchen, neither of you noticed a familiar flying birdman hovering above the balcony, peering at the both of you with a happy smile on his face before flying away.

“She’s lucky she has me as her friend” Hawks laughed as he continued his patrol. Hopping off of the balcony and flying away like a little weird fairy man.

___

You both had finished cooking, there was a surprising amount of dishes you two had made. Your meal consisted of a wide but healthy assortment of dishes. It was no surprise that Rumi cared about what she was putting inside her body.

“Come on baby carrot, let's go eat yeah?”

You nodded and brought as many plates as you could to the counter, pulling up a chair while Rumi took a chair to sit beside you, promptly digging into her food. “This is so yummy! Where did you learn how to cook like this? I’m not a bad cook myself--” that much was obvious, “-but you cook well carrot!” she gushed, quickly swallowing the food in her mouth.

“Ah-you're giving me too much credit Rumi-san!” you cried. Your cooking was mediocre at best and she was likely just gassing you to make you feel better. You were unsure of why she was hyping you up, though, you weren’t going to question it. Your mind suddenly drifted back to the kiss you both shared, heat rising onto your cheeks.

You slapped your cheeks, trying to get any indecent thoughts to exit your head. This caused Rumi to laugh and take another bite of her food, used to your unusual behaviour already. You blushed, though this time, you were less embarrassed than usual. If she had already liked you after knowing you were weird, then why hold back?

“Hey baby carrot, why do you call me Rumi-san? It just seems a little too formal.. and I wanted us to be a little closer than that? I mean, I have a nickname for you”

This wasn’t the first time that you had thought of giving her a nickname. You were nervous as to what she would say about it. Would she think it was stupid? Would she hate it? Would she make fun of you for it? Of course not, but your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you didn’t have any time to filter them out.

“I’ll think of one for you, but please give me some time to do so!”

“Of course baby carrot” she replied before quickly getting back to eating as she motioned for you to do the same.

The both of you had just finished eating, already washing the remaining dirty dishes, including the pots and pad you had both used to cook. It was quite a domestic and intimate sight. Both of you, side by side. Both washing the dishes. and the other drying.

As of right now. You were in complete and utter bliss. You’ve had a taste of euphoria and that was Rumi. It was amazing how one person could affect another so much.

“Hey, it’s getting late. Do you wanna sleep here?” She piled up. Drying a plate before placing it on the dish rack. Meanwhile. Your mind was once again in distress. Why was she so casual about these types of things? Of course, you wanted to sleep beside her, and cuddle close to her, and gee her soft skin brush against yours, and—you get the idea.

You were a bit hesitant as you didn’t want to overstay your welcome or burden her even further. No matter what she said, you knew that a hero wouldn’t be able to drop their patrol just on the dot. She broke the rules and you knew it. You didn’t want her to be making reckless decisions just because of you!

“I-I... Am I already overstaying my welcome,” you asked, trying to make sure she wanted this and that she didn’t feel obligated to let you stay for whatever reason? You just wanted a good reason for you to be here.

“It’s late. I would walk you home to ensure your safety, but right now, there’s a lot of villains lurking and to be honest, I’m not sure if I can take them all while protecting you at the same time”

She wasn’t lying. If it was just her. For sure she’d be able to go all out and defeat as many villains as she could. She was in the top fen for heaven’s sake! She was just afraid that you’d get caught in the crossfire and end up injured, kidnapped, or worse, dead.

“Oh.. okay” you mumbled, finishing up washing the dishes. Right now. You were unsure of what to do, she was still unfinished with drying the dishes and had suggested you slept over. Sure you trusted her, but, were you ready to sleep beside her? Were you ready to let her head you snore? Were you ready to let her see your horrible bedhead in the morning? Quite frankly, you were unsure if you were ready at all.

“But if you want to, I can take you home, it’s your choice. I’ll gladly defend you and protect you carrot” she had quite the facial expression. You could tell that she was determined. Her sheer determination was held in her eyes, her lips pulled up in a smirk and her eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience, so I’ll just choose the less inconvenient option. I’ll sleep here tonight but I’m taking the couch” you announced. She was going to take it or leave it! You were not going to go into her private space and make her share her rooms and bed.

“Fine. But. Please feel free to move inside if you’re uncomfortable. I know that couch seems like a good couch to sleep one, but it’s only good for sitting really. More like decoration if you were going, to be honest.

“Fine, but I promise that I won’t!” you stubbornly added. Wanting to make sure that she understood that you weren’t going to sleep beside her. You were fine sleeping on the couch and she had to understand that! She smiled before giving you a change of clothes, some pillows and blankets, including a spare toothbrush.

“I’ll be in my room okay? Goodnight carrot” she bid you goodnight before entering her room, not fully shutting it. You fixed up the couch before making your way into the bathroom, passing by Rumi’s bedroom and seeing her shadow move around as her door was left ajar. You changed your clothes and cleaned up, getting ready to take your place on the couch.

You charged your phone and closed your eyes, waiting to drift off into sleep.

___

You screamed as you were being chased by a villain, it was in the early hours of the morning, you could tell as the sun was coming up and it just had that morning vibe. You were used to getting up this early and were familiar with it. What you failed to comprehend was why a villain was chasing you?

It seemed as if it was only about five a.m or six a.m at the latest, but surely by now, there would have been cars driving around. You peeked behind you and saw that the villain had caught up, as he was about to grab you, you suddenly fell off a cliff, your stomach-dropping, your voice stuck in your throat before letting out a shriek and waking up in a cold sweat. What type of dream was that?

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?” said a worried Rumi who already had a glass of water at your side. You tried to take the cup from her but she noticed how shaky your hands were and decided that it would be best to help you drink herself. You slowly gulped down the water, not wanting to choke. You were heaving for air after drinking, maybe you didn’t slow down as much as you had needed to.

“I-I had a bad dream! I was being chased by a villain and I was all alone! Then when he was about to catch me, I fell off of a cliff!” you explained, recalling the haunting images of the unknown man who had almost caught you. Rumi wrapped her arms around you and had placed you onto her lap, patting your head and rubbing your hands to comfort you.

“How about you sleep in my room and I sleep here? Are you comfortable with that?” she whispered, not wanting to startle you while in such a vulnerable state.

“No.. please stay beside me bun. I wanna sleep beside you if that’s all right” you blushed, averting her gaze as you were embarrassed to have mentioned the nickname you had been thinking about for her. It was something you had been thinking about and whilst being cliche, it still suited her quite well.

“B-Bun? That's such a cute nickname! A little cliche, but still cute! I love it so much and I’m so happy that my cute little carrot thought of it for me!” she gushed, holding you even tighter against your body, almost squeezing the life out of you.

“I’m glad you like it bun”

“I do carrot. Let’s go to bed now yeah?” she offered, placing your figure down on the couch before straightening herself out and standing up, stretching her arm your in your direction, asking you to take it. You gladly placed your hand in hers, pushing yourself up and sticking beside her as you both made your way to the bed.

Rumi let go of your hand and made herself comfortable on the bed, making space for you as she moved the large and fluffy comforter and patted the spot, beckoning you to come to take your place beside her. You reluctantly sat on the bed before fully laying flat on your back, awkward and unmoving as you felt Rumi’s eyes on your still figure.

“You can turn on your side and face me y’ know” she piped up.

“I’m nervous” you admitted, not wanting to gaze into her eyes.

Rumi laughed before placing her hand on your cheek, coercing you into facing her direction. You hesitantly obliged and turned your whole body to face her, still avoiding her piercing eyes. She laughed once more before inching her face closer to yours, both of your lips just an inch away from each other.

“Don’t be a nervous baby carrot, it’s only me” she reassured, stroking the chub of your cheek while you relished in the feeling of the soft pads of her fingers stroking your face. You placed your hand on top of Rumi’s, pressing your face even harder against her palm. Rubbing your cheek against her warm hand.

“Can I kiss you bun? I wanna kiss you so badly” you softly whined, feeling yourself in the hands of Rumi. Instead of replying she decided to just press her lips against yours, moaning at the feeling of your soft plush lips.

“Baby carrot” she whimpered, pulling you impossible closer to her, your chests and thighs pressed against each other. You felt arousal consume your whole body, a tight coil forming in your stomach. You whimpered needlessly as Rumi sucked your tongue while wrapping your leg around her hip, placing her hand on the curve of your ass.

You continued to whine and moan as Rumi caressed your body, her tongue pulling you in and leaving you in a trance. You pulled away, feeling yourself get lost in Rumi herself.

“If we continued any longer, I would’ve passed out for sure” you sighed, pressing soft kisses on her lips and moving to scatter kisses on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, relishing in the pleasure of you peppering her face with soft kisses. “That’s okay baby carrot, we’ll take it to slow okay?” she took her turn at peppering your cheeks with kisses, making sure to kiss each untouched spot.

“I like you” you confessed, this time using the courage that had magically shown up to your advantage. You swiped the hair out of her face, wanting to see her. “I like you more,” she replied, kissing the tip of your nose.

___

“Ah~ This is the life! Getting your hair braided by a cute girl while she feeds you!: she chortled, leaning back into your lap as you continued to braid small pieces of her hair while taking small breaks to grab the chopsticks and feed her. You enjoyed watching Rumi relax and eat. It was somewhat satisfying.

“Don’t you have work today bun?” you asked, feeling much more comfortable than you were from before. After you had spent the night at her place, your relationship with her had only gotten stronger. You felt closer than ever and felt as if nothing could break the pair of you up.

“Nah baby carrot, this is a once in a lifetime thing us heroes call a ‘day off’” she joked, looking behind to face you. “But I’ll be busy this week okay? I don’t want you to worry so I’m just letting you know that I’ll be on the down-low”

It was quite upsetting to see your crush? Girlfriend? Partner? You didn’t even know what to call her. The both of you still hadn’t put a label on your relationship, not that it was a problem, but you wanted to know if she was in it for the long ride or if this was something casual. If it was something casual you would prefer to break it off. You didn’t appreciate sharing your significant other with anyone.

“Okay bun, I’ll wait for you” you had just settled on something simple, though Rumi saw through your facade and saw that you were somewhat upset by her incoming absence. She just turned around and hugged you, hoping it would give you some type of comfort for your oncoming lonely days without her.

___

It had been a week since you had seen or heard from Rumi. While she was away, you had busied yourself with tending to your garden, your customers, and practicing baking pastries. You had quite a lot to do. At the moment, you were currently picking some ripe strawberries as you were planning to make some strawberry shortcake, seeing as you had never properly tried it before.

As you picked the last strawberry, you had noticed it was a mutated one. It was huge! It seemed like it was about three to four normal strawberries combined into one! It fits in the palm of your hand! While you were distracted, you failed to feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your overalls.

You made your way inside of your small home and placed the freshly picked basket of fruits on the counter and washed your hands in the sink. After drying your hands, you took your phone out to see a text from Rumi.

From: bun<3

I’ll be coming home today. I miss you

7:24

Her text made your heart flutter. Even if it was simple, it still filled you with love and affection. Anything Rumi did was amazing in your eyes. It was quite pathetic really, but that’s what love did to people sometimes.

You decided that this would be a good time to drop by and give her some love and affection with some food included. You smiled as you imagined the happy face that would be present on Rumi’s face when she saw you. She was for sure going to be happy!

You felt yourself starting to feel giddy. This was going to be a good day!

___

You were wrong, dead wrong. Going to Rumi’s house had been a horrible decision.

You had decided that after closing up the shop, you would make your way to Rumi’s and bring her food. You wanted to show her how much you had missed her, but you mostly wanted to spend time with her. She was always around and made sure to check up on you and your shoot during her patrols. If she wasn’t in the area, she’d send one of her sidekicks in her place.

When you had gotten to Rumi’s place, she still wasn’t home, giving you time to set up a nice dinner for her before she had gotten home. You had prepared some fried rice along with stir-fried vegetables, knowing that she enjoyed a healthy balanced meal, especially after a hard mission. You smiled once again, you were excited to see her again. You just wanted to take her in your arms and love her the way you wanted to. She wasn’t aware, but you were completely and utterly in love with her.

As time went by, it became easier and easier to admit your feelings for Rumi to yourself. Before, you would blush and stutter at the thought of it, but now, you were able to say it to yourself, but sadly not to Rumi. Not yet, at least.

You heard the front door slam open before hearing a familiar pair of feet stomp inside before hearing the door slam shut. You heard Rumi stomp her way to the kitchen, her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with anger. She didn’t even spare you a glance before placing her keys on the counter and making her way into the bedroom and slamming it shut.

You sat down on the counter, hoping that she just needed time to relax before spending quality time with you. You waited, and you waited. It had already been an hour and the food had gone cold. The vegetables were cold and hard, as well as the rice. You decided to place everything in a counter before cleaning up. You knew that she was just upset and needed time for herself.

You made your way to the front door, making sure to shut all the necessary lights as it was already nearing midnight. You didn’t wanna upset her any further by overstaying your welcome. Usually, you would have asked to spend the night, but it didn’t seem like Rumi was in the mood for head pats and cuddles.

You smacked your head with your palm, already putting on your shoes but you had stupidly forgotten about your phone which you had tossed on the couch when you had first arrived. You took off your shoes once more before stepping back into the living room, knowing how disrespectful it was to walk into someone's home with shoes on, especially dirty shoes.

You made your way to the couch before picking up your phone, seeing two different texts from Rumi before she had gotten home.

From: bun <3

I’m really upset, usually, I’d love for you to visit but I just want to be alone. I hope you understand.

10:23

From: bun<3

We can go out tomorrow if you’d like? I miss you carrot

10:26

You were an idiot. An actual idiot. At that time, you were already setting the table as you had closed the shop at eight, having only two hours to cook Rumi a proper meal before her arrival. You should have just left her alone. Now she thinks that you ignored her texts and invited yourself into her home anyways.

You sighed before plopping your phone down on the cushion beside you, placing your arm over your eyes, wanting to just go home and sleep. You should probably make your way home now. It was already getting late. You sat up, making a move to get up off of the couch when Rumi’s bedroom door slammed shut. A pair of feet dragging down the hallway as she made herself known in the living room, standing barely two feet away from you.

Your jaw was left hanging. You were unsure of what to say? Would she be upset? Would she kick you out? Before you could come up with any more anxiety-inducing thoughts, Rumi had chosen to interrupt you before you had gone any further.

“Why’re you still here? I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be alone. Do you not know how to use your head?” she sassed, moving around the coffee table to walk towards the kitchen. While she was in the kitchen, you remained glued to the couch. Appalled at the words that had just exited her mouth.

“I-I” you stuttered, unable to formulate a proper response under her piercing gaze from where she stood in the kitchen.

“What? Are you just going to stutter and babble like a dumbass? I asked you if you could use your head or not. I’m not sure how clear I could have made this, but I did not want to see you today. I had a shitty mission and all I wanted to do was come home and relax. Instead, I come home to you, doing God knows what in the kitchen! Have you no boundaries? Can your pea-sized brain even comprehend boundaries?” she mocked, harsh words spouting from her mouth as if her mouth was a fountain of curses. “Fucking idiot” she mumbled under her breath.

You wanted to cry. This time, you had a good reason. You hadn’t expected Rumi to be this upset with you. You had good intentions but you didn’t mean to overstep. You had only wanted to let her know that you had missed her.

You nodded, opting to stare at your hands that were neatly folded in your lap instead of defending yourself. You probably deserved this anyways. It would be over soon, you just had to suck it up and tough it out. You did put yourself in this situation in the first place.

“Nothing to say? You’re dumber than I thought” she hissed.

“You’re going too far Rumi-san. I never intended to step over any boundaries. I was already here before you texted me because I wanted to make sure that you could easily relax when you got home. I wanted to cook for you and take care of you—“ you cried, your tears finally sliding down your cheeks “—I didn’t mean to overstep. But you insulting my intelligence and my mannerisms is too far. You’re being disrespectful and I don’t like that. Don’t take your anger out on me” you scolded, staring at her with such an intense and almost hateful gaze.

You could never hate Rumi, but the words she had spoken to you were something that you were going to remember for the rest of your life, you knew that this would haunt you forever and probably give you nightmares.

Her face faltered. Your words had finally been processed in her head. Sometimes Rumi acted before thinking. It was one of her lesser traits but you grew to love it anyway.

It was quite surprising how you were able to defend yourself without bursting into tears, probably because this was the one person whom you had never expected to blow upon you--to take their anger out on you.

“If you never liked me, then why did you lead me on? What was the whole point of this? You wasted my time, and yours as well” You spat, finally allowing your tears to cascade down your cheeks. “You are a horrible person Usagiyama Rumi.” you spat with venom before taking the rest of your things and walking past her, stopping at the door to say “Delete my number”

You understood that you had done something wrong, but the fact that she had degraded you and insulted you was just immature. You wiped the tears off of your face, upset at the fact that she thought that was okay. Had she always thought this way? Was she just playing you? Your mind was just running amok and you didn’t have anyone to calm you down.

Luckily, you had safely made it home, encountering no villains or criminals during your journey home. When you had gotten home, you had thrown yourself in bed, not even bothering to change your clothes or clean up. You cried yourself to sleep that night, your anxiety and insecurities weighing down on your shoulders.

___

It had been a few days after your encounter with Rumi. You had muted her texts and calls, not having the heart to block her and fully eliminate her from your life just yet. You sighed once more, picking the rest of the carrots and taking them back inside to wash. It was almost time to open up the store.

It had been quite a rough week, you spent most of your week crying, thus resulting in red puffy eyes. It still hurt to touch or rub them. You probably looked stupid, and it was probably noticed that you had been crying.

You chose to wear glasses today, hoping that it would hide your tired and puffy eyes, not wanting your customers to worry about your wellbeing, especially Ms. Takeshi. She was quite old and you did not need her to worry about you as if you were one of her children, of course, you thought of her as a mom but you didn’t wanna burden her with your problems.

Hopefully, today will be a better day for you and your fruits and vegetables.

___

“She’s not answering me Keigo! I’m getting nervous!” Rumi whined, feeling slightly queasy.

“She probably blocked you” he laughed, finding some amusement in his friend's pain. It was quite sadistic but this was Keigo we’re talking about. It wasn’t rare to see him finding amusement in fucked up things. It was just how he worked.

“But my texts are still going in! I keep trying to apologize but she keeps ignoring me” she whined, flopping on her back and tossing her phone away from her. They were both currently on patrol, sitting atop of a building somewhere in the city. Both of them were currently situated on top of the building a few buildings away from your shop, your little building of establishment visible.

“If you did that to me, ridiculed and degraded me, you would never hear from me again. I’m not surprised by her actions Rumi. She was a great girl and sorry to say it, but you fucked up. Real bad.” he continued, wanting his companion to realize how badly she had fucked up.

“You don’t have to tell me okay?” she grumbled, starting to feel irritation seep into her veins while her supposed friend continued to bring up her mistakes.

“Yeah, but you still gotta apologize anyways” he blew a piece of flyaway hair out of his face before continuing. “Why’d you do that anyway? Were you just leading her on or something? Cuz that’s mean” Keigo teased, adding more salt to her open wound.

“I-I was frustrated. One of the younger heroes got killed. A bunch of civilians too. I felt so fucking useless. I was useless. I didn’t save anyone. I may have kicked ass, but that’s not what being a hero is all about. Being a hero is about saving as many lives as you can. I saved nobodies. I just wanted to be alone and I told her that, but I guess she didn’t see. When I saw her at my place, I just left her for a while. I didn’t talk to her--” she sighed.

“Then I came out and she was just sitting on the couch. I don’t know what overcame me. I just lost it. What I did wasn’t right and I have to earn her forgiveness, but I’m not even sure she’ll let me. I hurt her so fucking bad Keigo” she sighed, placing her arm on her face, shielding herself from Keigo’s pitying gaze.

Keigo tsked before getting up, shaking his head in disapproval. “I got a plan for you bunny girl, don’t worry about it. Just make sure that you have something nice planned for tomorrow, and dress nice too. Just leave it to me. I’ll help ya. Believe it.”

“Naruto?”

“Shut up”

___

As you were exiting the shop, you encountered a familiar winged hero, stopping at the magnificent sight of his wings. “Hawks?” you squinted, almost thinking you were dreaming, fast asleep on top of the counter in your shop.

“Hey birdy, how are ya?” he greeted, stepping a little closer to you.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I’m closing the shop right now but if you want anything, I can open it back up? They won’t be as fresh as it’s already late, but I can fix them up with my quirk!” you explained, already digging for the key in your pocket.

“Nah baby I’m okay, don’t worry about me. I was just wondering if I could take you out? Maybe for coffee?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. You blushed. What did he want with you? Was he playing with you? Was this a ploy to get you back with Rumi when you hadn’t even established a proper relationship with her?

“O-Okay, I don’t mind” you stuttered, blushing at the fact that he wanted to take you out. This still must have been a play, but this was still the Pro-Hero Hawks! This was an opportunity you couldn’t miss due to your stubborn and prideful personality!

“Come here baby bird, we’re flying” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist before taking off, launching the both of you into the air. You screamed as you both flew up, not used to flying.

“Um… Hawks-san... Why did you want to talk? I’ve never spoken to me before” you started, clutching his arm a little harder as he weaved the both of you through the city. “I’ll talk at the coffee shop okay? I promise.” he smiled.

You nodded, not wanting to pry any further as you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries once more.

___

“Look, Rumi misses you kid.” he started, scratching the back of his head, mussing up his already wind-swept hair. “I KNEW IT!” you cried, slamming your frappuccino that he oh so kindly bought for you on the table, startling Hawks and the few customers in the joint.

“I know she’s sorry. I’ve seen her. She’s messed up right now. I know what she did was shitty but you gotta give her another chance kid.” he nearly begged, grasping at your hands. You scowled. How dare he? What did he know?

”Is that supposed to make me pity her? She knows what she did. And, with all due respect, you shouldn't even be trying to apologize for her in the first place, Hawks-san” you seethed, letting go of his hands and balling yours into fists. You were irritated.

”Look, I know how badly she fucked up. If it was me, I wouldn't even waste my time with her. But that's me, and this is you. I know you’re in love with her baby bird. Please don't give up on her just because of one fight. All couples fight and all couples are toxic in their own ways. You just have to communicate.” he smiled.

”F-Fine! But… Please don't mention my feelings for her! That's just embarrassing!” you yelled, hiding your heating face into the palms of your hand. Hawks smiled again before getting up, beckoning for you to follow him.

Hawks was quite surprised at your willingness to accompany him to meet Rumi. he expected you to be either hesitant or just reject his proposal and leave Rumi in the dust. He smiled once more, you had strong feelings for her, that was a guarantee.

But, it was now or never.

Hawks had flown the both of you on top of this building a few ways away from your shop. Your shop was actually visible from here! As Hawks set you down, he motioned for you to turn around, you obeyed, only to see Rumi standing there, holding a bouquet of white orchids. You recognized them as the ‘I’m sorry flowers’. You scoffed. Did she think you were going to be bought by flowers?

Maybe.

You felt your cheeks heating up at the sight of Rumi. She still wore her normal clothes, but for some reason, she looks even more attractive than she did before. Of course, she was attractive but it felt as if her attractiveness doubled. Or was that just because you haven’t seen her for some time? People did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Rumi approached you before trying to nudge the flowers in your hands. You reluctantly took them, not wanting to rub any more salt onto her wounds. You knew that what she had done was wrong and disrespectful, but you understood that sometimes people snapped. Anger was a human emotion, though she just didn't deal with it very well.

“I’m sorry carrot. I disrespected you and called you names. I made fun of your intelligence even though you’re one of the smartest, prettiest, and most creative people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I know that I can’t make excuses, but I know what I can do is try my best to get you to forgive me and regain your trust” she softly spoke, staring lovingly into your eyes.

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew she was sorry, but you still felt hurt by her words. She may have just said it out of anger and to hurt you, but it still hurt. There was the intention with her words. You knew and felt it. You knew that you would be able to forgive her but when things like this happened, it turned you off.

Though, this case is special. You should’ve checked your phone and asked for permission to go inside her home in the first place. Your fault may not have been as serious or as severe as hers, but you weren’t going to let her shoulder all of the blame.

You placed the flowers down on the floor, resulting in you worrying Rumi in the process. Were you going to leave? Did you not accept her apology? Did you hate her? Did you never want to see her again? Were you ever going to forgive her? Rumi could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, anxiety bubbling up inside her. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to hurl. Before she could even gag, you had already thrown yourself in her arms, wrapping your arms around your neck whilst your legs did the same to her waist.

“I accept your apology! I’m sorry too! I didn’t mean to ignore my texts! Please take me back! I love you so much bun bun!” you sobbed, grasping her even tighter, unaware of what you had just spoken. You heard Rumi let out a laugh of disbelief.

She pulled away to gaze at your crying face, feeling herself fall even harder for the crybaby right in front of her. She smiled before slamming her lips against yours, quickly dipping her tongue inside of your mouth. Your eyes widened at the surprise kiss before you slowly melted into it, using your tongue to caress hers, pulling her in even further into you.

As you and Rumi made out, Hawks stood there. He literally just stood there. “H-Hey Rumi! I thought you said I would be eating dinner with you guys” he tried to gain their attention, even sending some of his feathers to them, trying to separate them from each other.

But, Rumi just shooed him away, leaving Hawks to sadly walk away. As Hawks flew off of the building, his one thought was ‘when will I meet my someone?’. He sighed and continued his flight home. He would meet his soulmate one day. That was for sure.

“Rumi, do you love me back?” you asked, wanting to hear it come from her mouth. She smiled, caressing the soft skin of your cheeks. “I do carrot. I really do” she smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “Why did you choose to bring me up here though? We could have just gone to your apartment” you tilted your head, resulting in Rumi’s heart skipping a beat.

“Well, I’ve actually known you for a while. There was a time where I was patrolling here and I saw you walking home, it was already late so I wanted to keep an eye out for you and make sure you were safe. I saw you reviving all the dead plants you passed by, even growing some berries on the shrubbery. I just thought you were so interesting, but I didn't want to be a stalker so I let you go. Then a few days later, I get thrown inside your shop. What a coincidence huh?” she laughed.

“You’re such a simp bun” you teased, pinching her soft chubby cheeks.

“Oh! That reminds me, I got you something!” she revealed a small box before handing it to you. It was quite heavy. You opened it, only to find out that it was a bunny! Rumi had gotten you a bunny! How ironic. You scooped it out of the box before placing the bunny in your arms, feeling your bottom lip tremble at the adorable site of the bunny.

“Do you like it?” she queried, anxious to find out.

“I love it! I’m gonna name them Hawks!”

“E-Eh? Why!? Why not after me? Hey! Wait! Don’t use your vines to escape! Answer me!”

___

“Rumi! Where do I smash this in?” you asked, wondering where the hammer was. “Baby carrot, that’s a screw, you can’t use a hammer, we need a drill,” she informed you, carefully taking the hammer out of your dangerous hands.

“Why’d I have to get such a big closet anyways” you grumbled, sitting on the ground with a pout, hating how useless you were right now. “Because you ran out of snack space. It’s okay. My dad taught me how to build stuff, also this is from IKEA so it’s easy to follow” she bragged, smirking at your sulking figure.

“Can you hand me the door? We can attach it now. Don’t worry, we’re almost done baby, I promise” she smiled, ruffling the top of your hair. You grumbled about not liking her messing your hair up before reluctantly getting up to fetch the door for your lovely girlfriend. Has this door always been so big and heavy?

You squatted and wrapped your arms around the door, grunting as you tried to pick it up. You succeeded but lost your balance, your legs locking into place as you fell backwards, the door landing on top of you and smashing into your forehead. “HELP!” you cried as you were pinned under the door.

Rumi came running in, thinking you had hammered a nail through your own foot, only to find you on the floor, under a cabinet door. She snickered as your limbs wiggled.

“I guess you can say you look… a-door-able HAHAHA!”

“Haha. Please help, my lungs are being crushed”

“OH SHIT”

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sweatersstyles · 4 years ago

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gotta get better

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This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 9 - ‘The Kindest of Kisses Break the Hardest of Hearts”

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (swear I’ll make a masterlist soon)

Summary: Back in London, you find unexpected help in the form of Ives. But when Neil comes back sparks fly... ✨

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So here’s the chapter I’m incredibly excited about... Suppose I should thank Dior for inspiration in this one. Hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing the last scene! Please let me know what you think!

You did not remember the last time you were this happy to be back in London. After the mission in Paris was done, Jasper went back to Boston, and you were free to do what you wanted. You contacted TP, told him how the mission went (without certain details), and in return, got told to wait for more information regarding the next steps. By your estimation, it was less than two weeks left till Kiev and the day when the mysterious plan will be set into motion. You were scared.

Ever since that day in Paris when Neil called, you had a difficult time maintaining normal conversation with him. He would message asking about something as mundane as how your day went, and you would only respond with a short sentence. You could not really explain it if asked. It was as though after hearing his voice and letting yourself have that conversation with him, all the doubts came back with a tripled strength. Suddenly you could almost believe Jasper and his harsh words suggesting that you were not important in Neil’s eyes. Maybe he just liked flirting, and you were conveniently there? That sounded rather plausible. Ever since you started naming those thoughts, an ache in your chest was hard to ignore. And so you did the best you could, which in this case meant low-key ghosting Neil and losing yourself in training and work.

Surely with enough time and space, you would get over it (him), right?

That was the state of your mind the day when rather surprising help appeared. You have been back in London for a few days and have not really interacted with anyone. Usually, you would spend two hours in the shooting range and then in a sparring session. After you were done, you would retreat to your room and try to ignore the texts that were still occasionally coming.

“How’s London treating you? Say hello to Anna from me” you glanced at the screen and frowned.

The instant temptation to text back was still there. Only now, it was tainted with much more anxiety and uncertainty.

“It’s alright, rather quiet. I haven’t seen her around though. Maybe she’s moping after you”

Like I am? You sighed and chose to focus on notes from the physics class. You were saved from the study by an unexpected knock on the door. Without thinking, you got up and opened it, only to see Ives standing there with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Hi” you muttered, worried you have forgotten how to behave like a human being.

“Hello, love” he grinned “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No, I was actually rather bored” you admitted with a sheepish smile.

You heard the distinct buzz of a text message but chose to ignore it. You were slowly getting better at the game.

“That’s terrific because I thought we could have a coffee in the canteen and chat” Ives’ thick cockney accent was somewhat adorable.

And you could definitely do with a distraction.

“I’d love that” you beamed back at him and left the room, locking the door behind you.

As you walked side by side along the corridor, you struggled to say something.

“How did you know I’m here?” finally you settled for a rather easy question.

“I’ve seen you at the shooting range in the morning” he watched you closely for a short moment “You’re fucking amazing, did you know that?”

“Oh no, I’m really not” you felt your face heat up.

“Yeah you are” he playfully nudged you in the side “You could probably teach me a thing or two”.

You glared at him and then quickly considered your options.

“Only if you taught me how not to be knocked out within the first two minutes of the hand in hand combat” you knew you could use help in that department.

“Deal?” Ives stopped and turned to you with an outstretched hand.

“Deal” you shook it with a grin.

Once you made it to the mess hall, you noticed with relief that it was rather quiet. You both made coffee and sat down at the table in the corner. After a few moments of comfortable silence when you sipped your drinks, Ives spoke up:

“What have you been up to?” he was eyeing you curiously.

Even though you barely knew him, you felt at ease. There was no enigma of TP to him or Neil’s intensity. Instead, he was just a friendly bloke with sharp wits.

“Oh you know, shit mission in New York and now even shittier one in Paris” you frowned at the fresh memories “Though I suppose the recent one at least ended with success” you mused.

It was true not all of your missions have ended with a huge fuck up. And that was somewhat encouraging.

“With Jasper?”

“Yeah” your frown deepened, and Ives grinned.

“My condolences. He’s a right pain in the ass”

“Well said” you laughed, finally feeling some of the tension of the last few days dissolve.

But it was not meant to be for long. Before either of you spoke again, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of the pocket and glanced at the received text. It was him, of course. You grimaced and placed the phone screen down on the table as if to avoid the temptation. All the while you felt Ives’s attentive gaze. He has not missed a thing.

“Neil?” he asked, watching you closely with a neutral face.

“Yeah…” you shrugged, avoiding his stare “I’ll probably sound pathetic… but do you know where he is?”

Once the question was out of your mouth, you felt your cheeks heat up. It was one thing to worry about him daily. Another to actually voice the worries. But Ives did not seem to mind. He quickly considered something before leaning over the table.

“He’s in India, dealing with some sudden disruption. I was there with him in the beginning” at your unspoken question, he added “He’s fine, often said that’s partially thanks to you” he eyed you carefully, and you looked down at the table, flustered.

“It’s more that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t even need help in the first place” you mumbled, feeling the guilt gnaw at your heart.

Still, sometimes you kept wondering why on earth had he decided to shield you back in the bar. But any possible answer to the question meant having to assume something about Neil’s intentions. And that was dangerous territory.

“Should I ask?” Ives’ question brought you back to the present moment.

“Better not” you smiled wryly, and he just nodded.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you sometimes, you know” he spoke up again after a short silence, making you look up.

You were not sure you liked the cheeky smirk that appeared on Ives’ face. You were not going to give in.

“He’ll get over it in no time, I’m sure” you feigned nonchalance as you finished your coffee and met his gaze.

“Are you two good?”

You just shrugged. To be frank, you had no clue how to answer that. Was there even such an entity as ‘you two’ when it came to you and Neil?

“Well, whatever is going on, know that I’m ready to slap some sense into him if needed” Ives grinned at you, and you beamed back.

“Appreciated”

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence. That is until your brain rudely decided to suggest another pressing question.

“Is he there… alone?” you cringed as soon as you said it aloud.

No point in trying to sound disinterested…

“Nah, Wheeler stayed with a couple of others” his stare was way too knowing.

You felt a sharp stab of pain in your heart. What even… There was no reason to be jealous. Right? As you were internally debating what the new feelings were supposed to mean, you failed to notice Ives’ grinning at your distress.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous” he was enjoying it way too much.

“What? No, I’m not” you tried to scoff at this insinuation but failed miserably.

“Yeah, you are” that’s how you learnt that Ives had his own version of a shit-eating grin.

Was that a part of the Tenet work application?

“Mate, Neil and Wheeler wouldn’t fuck each other even if I paid them. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you” Ives wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you groaned.

You glared at him, unable to come up with any good response.

“What? I may have only seen you two together once, but it was clear to me that dear Neil is interested. Very much so” he smirked at your wide-eyed stare “But I don’t think that’s in any way news for you” he squinted his eyes as though trying to see right through your soul.

“Please, let’s leave psychoanalysis for another date” you grabbed the phone from the table and looked at him pleadingly.

“Of course” he grinned “When shall we have our first sparring lesson?”

“Tomorrow morning. Be there at 9” you got up “Thanks for the chat”

“Anytime, love” he waved as you left the canteen.

*** Combat lessons with Ives have proven to be a gift from the gods in the days that followed. He would accompany you to the shooting range afterward as well under the pretence of wanting to learn from you. Even though you were sure it was utter bullshit as he could hit the marks as well as you, if not better, you appreciated the sentiment. To say that his help in the sparring sessions meant you have greatly improved would be an overstatement, but certainly, additional tips slowly started to make a difference. All that distraction meant you also spent much less time wondering about Neil’s whereabouts and asking yourself existential questions about your own feelings. That was probably the best outcome of the situation.

Another morning of the sparring session began with you and Ives meeting in the gym as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as you entered the gym.

“More or less” you grinned, stifling a yawn.

Last night you spent way too much time overthinking the text exchange with Neil. All it took was for him to mention ‘the fun you had in New York’ and then compare it to the recent night undercover. To you, it meant that Jasper was right, and you were just another ‘flirting companion’. And that shit hurt.

“That will have to do then” he tossed a water bottle in your direction, and you caught it easily.

You set it down on the side and the mat and stood facing Ives. After a short warm-up, he began showing you the way of blocking punches aimed at your upper body. While the demonstration always looked easy, once you went onto the practice, you have begun to struggle. After getting a third light punch to the shoulder, you huffed:

“Maybe I should just give up and become a sniper” you rubbed the aching spot.

“That could work” he grinned “Though I’m not sure how Neil would feel about that career change”

“Fuck Neil” you made sure to put up your guard, expecting another punch.

“I see how it is” Ives smirked before he threw a hit towards your other shoulder.

This one you blocked. And the one afterward as well. Slowly, with only a few mistakes, you got the hang of the game. That is until you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat by the door. You both turned to see Anna standing there.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” she sent you a fake smile.

Christ…

“Of course”

You looked at Ives with panic in your eyes before you followed her into the corridor. Anna was clearly uncomfortable with having to talk to you, and that did not ease the tension.

“What’s the matter?” you spoke up first, hating the awkwardness of the moment.

“Neil called me yesterday” she paused, and you frowned.

“Yeah?” if she wanted to torture you, she has succeeded.

“He wanted me to let you know that they got Steiner in New York” despite Anna’s best attempts at keeping her face neutral, you knew she was enjoying this.

“Okay, thanks” you smiled weakly, trying to ignore the jealousy building up in your chest.

“Oh, and he says he should be back next week” now she was smiling dazzlingly.

“Great” you mumbled and showed her your brightest grin “Thank you”

With that, you chose to end the tortures for you both and went back into the gym. At Ives’ questioning stare, you just glared. He understood instantly.

“Fuck Neil?” he offered you a sip from the water bottle, which you gladly accepted.

“Mhmm”

There was so much to unpack from what Anna told you. Partially, you knew your ghosting was to be blamed for the situation but still, it hurt. Especially the unspoken fact that Neil has called her. You knew you were being ridiculous but could not ignore the feelings that were attacking every fibre of your being.

“Ready for another round?” Ives looked at you worriedly.

“Absolutely”

*** A few days later, as you left a meeting covering suspicious activity around London, your head was most certainly elsewhere. Ever since the awkward situation with Anna, you were not sure what to do with yourself. Only carefree moments were those you spent in the shooting range or learning hand to hand combat with Ives, who was surprisingly great at distracting you.

Walking along the corridor, you were too busy worrying about all those texts you have ignored to see where you were going. With eyes trained on the floor, you barely registered the surroundings. And that is why you were incredibly surprised when you unexpectedly collided with something solid standing on your path.

“Fuck” you muttered before slowly realising that you have, in fact, walked into a person.

You felt someone’s hands reach out to steady you by wrapping around your waist. The next thing you registered was the smell. A very familiar one that you have tried to repress from memory for the past few weeks. You felt panic surge through your whole body before you let out a long exhale and lifted your head.

“Didn’t expect our reunion to be that dramatic, but I’m not complaining” Neil grinned at you with that smug look on his face you have grown to hate.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you” you choose to stare at his tie.

A nice burgundy one which he has worn in New York, during the mission. At the memory, your cheeks grew somehow warmer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by the earth. But to no avail.

“Are you alright?” his voice broke through the increasing paralysis.

“Yeah” you forced yourself to look up at him again.

The concern in his eyes only made your desire to run stronger. But his grip on your waist was unyielding. You were acutely aware of standing in the middle of the corridor. Anyone could pass by and see you like that. But it looked like Neil did not care.

“I tried calling you last night” his voice was tense.

Shit.

“Sorry I was busy” you were a terrible liar.

And, of course, he saw right through you. You noticed how the look in his eyes went from concern to serious worry, and you desperately wanted to flee the scene. He was studying your face, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. After a beat, he must have found some answers in your conflicted expression because he relaxed the grip on your waist, giving you a way out.

“If I said anything wrong…” you were thrown off by the slightly wounded look in his eyes.

Now that you actually could run away, you did not want to. Not without making sure he understood.

“You haven’t” you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing heart “It’s… just things that Jasper said and stuff… it made me think” you mentally groaned, annoyed at how you could not form a coherent sentence.

But Neil understood as he nodded and reached for your hand. You let him lead you to a quieter spot in the adjacent corridor. You were still paralyzed with conflicting feelings, but now also curious. The voice in the back of your head kept on reminding you how much you have missed him. You had your back pressed against the wall and stared as he slowly stepped closer, making your personal space non-existent. It was suddenly hard to think about the reasons why you should not let him be this close. The look in his eyes was unreadable to you.

“I don’t know what that idiot told you or what’s going on in your head, but it’s all wrong” you felt his free hand slide up your arm to rest on your neck and gently caress the skin there.

It was embarrassing how you responded to his touch with your body tensing and goosebumps appearing where his fingers made contact with your skin. It was hard to lie, even to yourself.

“Why should I believe you?” your voice sounded breathless already.

You knew you should have never let him get this close before you talked. But still, the way he looked at you was surprising. Any train of thought was interrupted when he brushed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. His eyes were darker than usual, and the intensity of his gaze alone made the flutters in your stomach appear.

“I’ve got a few reasons”

Gently he tilted your chin and covered your lips with his. You gasped at the contact and felt him smile against your mouth. Then, as though a switch was flipped, Neil started kissing you hungrily, and you responded in kind, letting your teeth graze his lower lip. When his hand wrapped around your neck, you felt lightheaded and breathless. But still, you deepened the kiss, making all the feelings you have tried to stifle lead the moment. It was scaringly easy to do. Only once you felt like you had no breath left, you broke the kiss and stared back at Neil with a dazed expression. That was not what you expected from your reunion.

“Hope that beat whatever Jasper had to offer you” he grinned, and you enjoyed the sight of his subtly swollen lips.

“Please don’t remind me” surprisingly, you could still form a sentence.

But that ability was soon to be gone as you watched mischievous sparks shine in his eyes. His lips curled into a smirk, and you knew you were fucked. In every meaning of the word. Before you could react, he leaned in closer again, kissed the corner of your mouth before leaving a trail of kisses down to your jawline, and then crook of the neck.

“Neil…” you breathed out, trying to somehow stop the situation from getting out of your hands.

“Yes?” he interlocked his fingers with yours, pinning your joined hands to the wall.

Perfect leverage. Thinking was getting increasingly difficult.

“I… I’ve missed you” that was not exactly what you wanted to say.

You heard him chuckle with his lips brushing the skin on your neck.

“Quite right” he kissed the spot beneath your ear “Too”.

You sighed at the sensation, tightening the grip on his hand and letting your other palm splay on his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the fast heartbeat. It was somewhat encouraging to know that it was not just your heart that was beating wildly. He was kissing your neck with something akin to reverence, which made you feel faint. The traces of reason left in your brain started screaming for attention.

“Neil” you huffed, annoyed at how you were unable to voice the mess of thoughts.

Slowly he lifted his head and looked back at you.

“I really like how you say my name” the roguish grin that began it all was back to haunt you “So breathless” his voice was huskier than usual.

He wanted to kill you, evidently.

You met his gaze helplessly, feeling vulnerable with how he could see right through you. He looked almost fascinated by your stunned expression. Then his eyes softened.

“I missed you too” you felt his hand travel down your body to settle on the hip “So much”.

That admission was all it took for you to lose it. Again. You leaned in and initiated another kiss, unable to deny the need you felt. Neil was ready as he easily matched the tempo you have set. This time neither of you wanted to rush it. Instead, you kissed slowly and delicately, enjoying the careless moment. You tangled your hand in his blonde strands, tugging lightly to bring him even closer. He groaned at the sensation, making you feel a new kind of tension. You wanted him to make that sound again. But before you could find ways of achieving that, on the periphery of your attention, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps approaching fast. Then they stopped abruptly and were replaced with a shocked gasp.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring straight at Anna. Fuck. She was frozen in the spot three meters away and had a bewildered expression on her face. You knew there was no way in hell she has not realised what was going on. You could only watch as her face scrunched up in a scowl before she turned on her heels and almost ran back down the corridor. That image was enough to help you wake up from the daze. Gently you disentangled from Neil, who looked confused. Despite the reality of the situation downing on you, you grinned seeing his ruffled hair and disoriented gaze.

“Well done, now Anna hates me” you warily eyed the corridor before settling your eyes on him again.

You watched as he slowly absorbed the information, frowned, and then brightened up again when he met your gaze.

“Pretty sure she did already” he eyed you carefully as though assessing the state he brought you to.

Conscious of how you looked, you smoothed your hair and patted your blazed cheeks. There was no pretending that nothing happened, even if you wanted to.

“Why?” you arched your eyebrow at the implication.

“You know why” he just smiled as though it explained everything.

You didn’t know why. At all. You watched as he ruffled his hair even further by combing a hand through it, and your eyes settled on the exposed forearm and rolled up sleeves. For some reason seeing him like that was very thought-provoking. You knew he caught your stare when you heard him chuckle.

“Like what you see?” it was that smug smirk again.

You could not help but roll your eyes at him. This time the voice of reason was not so easily ignored.

“We really should talk before…” you did not even want to finish the sentence.

“Before?” Neil took a step closer again.

“Before we do something much more reckless than… this” you gestured vaguely and took a step back.

“Would that really be so bad?” he bit his lip and eyed you curiously again.

You have had enough. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him back. That clearly surprised him.

“Let’s just talk. Please” you put on your best puppy eyes just for him.

That did the job. Thankfully.

“Couldn’t say no to that” he grinned and took your hand in his “C’mon”

Now you just had to figure out what to tell him. The only issue was that you had no idea about how you felt… Fun.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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astudyinfreewill · 5 years ago

Note

hey this may be a stupid question, but it's already been a long time since ive read trk so i don't remember everything properly, so can you explain to me why exactly ganseys behavior in the book is seen as problematic??

hey! don’t worry, there are no stupid questions in my book. in fairness, it’s not about gansey’s behaviour in trk, it’s about his behaviour throughout the whole series. most of his problematic actions all come down to the same basic flaw: self-centeredness. for all that gansey is a generous and loving person, he can’t help but make everything about himself. he is driven by anxiety to define his place in the world beyond his privilege, yet he is blinded by that very same privilege - a bad combination, and one that leads him to show very little empathy for the people he loves.

like many teenagers, he’s looking for affirmation from his friends... but then resents them for not giving it, while failing to see that (most of) his friends are dealing with traumatic issues. when his friends reject his input - because it is not what they need or want at the moment - gansey always, always takes it personally. at no point does he try to ask himself, okay, if this isn’t what my friends need, then what do they need from me and how can i be a better friend? instead, he goes straight into self-pity mode, complaining that his friends reject his support and walk away from him. thing is... it’s not real support if it only makes him feel better and not them.

i don’t really have the time to write an extensive meta on all of the interactions where gansey’s lack of empathy comes into play, but here’s a list of just the most glaring ones in the series, in no particular order:

gansey consistently tries to pay for adam’s way and persuade him to move in with him, even though adam has told him multiple times that he is uncomfortable with it because independence is key to his sense of self as an abuse survivor. sometimes he does this even when he’s fully aware that it will start a fight. despite that, adam is usually the one apologizing, at least on page

notably in trb there’s a scene where gansey tries to get adam to move in with him, but when adam asks what’s going to happen if gansey leaves henrietta - is adam just supposed to drop out of aglionby and follow him? - gansey doesn’t reassure him that’s not gonna happen. he just says adam will have to start again at a new school.

as i said above, this is not true support because it helps gansey feel better without inconveniencing him, but it is not what adam wants. if gansey wanted to support adam, he’d at least promise he would stay in henrietta for their final year of high school, instead of expecting adam to follow him around the world.

when adam rejects that offer and says he’ll stay in the trailer park, gansey takes it incredibly personally and his first response is to victim-blame adam for his abuse, saying things like: “you let your dad pound the shit out of you. you’re as bad as [your abusive mother]. you think you deserve it.” when adam still refuses to move in, and tells him, rightfully so, that gansey doesn’t know what it’s like for him, gansey follows that up with “don’t pretend you have anything to be proud of”. this is past mean and straight into cruel.

adam is the one who apologizes after this fight. let that sink in.

when thinking back on ronan’s suicide attempt, it is strongly implied in the text - and was made explicit in deleted scenes - that gansey appears to have taken ronan’s suicide attempt not just as a traumatic event, but as a slight against him, and is always vaguely guilt-trippy when it comes up (i.e. you promised me you wouldn’t get suicidal again)

gansey does illegal things on ronan’s behalf, multiple times, without ever wondering if this is what ronan wants, see: bribing school officials to keep ronan in school when ronan explicitly wants to drop out, because staying in school is what gansey thinks he should do. even if gansey’s heart was in the right place (i believe in staying in school), he is essentially involving ronan in illegal dealings against his will.

gansey is happy to share his search for glendower with the others, and delegate tasks to them (adam especially) as long as they do things his way. when adam acts against one of his decisions, gansey is absolutely unable to let that go. and while i understand that he is hurt by the breach of trust, because adam went behind his back, his language is telling: “i did tell him that we were to wait, right?”. you don’t “tell” your friends what they “are to do”. that’s not an equal relationship.

this is also seen in the way gansey acts with ronan in more of a parental role, actively ordering him about. you know there is a problem when an outside character refers to ronan as “gansey’s dog” and neither gansey nor ronan disagree with this.

there’s the infamous hospital scene in trb, too, which has been excellently analysed in this meta post by @bleachersmp3 and @mericatblackwood, but i’ll say a few words about it anyway

in this scene, adam has just been beaten into losing his hearing. he has just come out of the hospital, bruised and traumatised, and has been told he will now have a permanent disability as a result of his abuse. he is now also homeless, because by pressing charges against his father to protect ronan, he has ensured his parents will kick him out for good. so he is forced to move into monmouth - something we have been told from the start of the book he absolutely did not want, because it was critical to his sense of self not to depend on gansey’s wealth. so, he’s bitter about it.

and okay, that’s not entirely fair, because it wasn’t gansey’s fault. but if your friend had just undergone such horrific trauma, surely you would be a little lenient, and understand they’re not being objective atm, right? well, not gansey. instead, gansey launches into a tirade at him: “what is your problem, adam? [...] is there something about my place that’s too repugnant for you? [...] I’m sick of tiptoeing around your principles!”

when adam snaps at him that he’s being condescending by using highbrow words (we can assume that this is a discussion they’ve had before, because adam tries to get gansey to use more everyday words multiple times in the book, especially when it’s clear that blue doesn’t understand something, so it’s something gansey already know adam finds condescending), gansey goes straight to victim-blaming again, this time with a classist twist thrown in: “i’m sorry your father never taught you the meaning of repugnant. he was too busy smashing your head against the wall of your trailer while you apologized for being alive.”

gansey does not apologize at any point after this fight.

when adam sacrifices himself to cabeswater - which he does explicitly to stop whelk from murdering one of them and save gansey - gansey takes it as a slight against him, because it goes against what he told adam to do, and sadly asks adam “why? was i so awful?”, showing he has completely misunderstood adam’s reasons. adam tells him, and not for the last time: “it was never about you”.

it clearly doesn’t sink in bc they have the same discussion in the dream thieves, when gansey again asks him why did he go to cabeswater against his orders. he does this in an emotionally manipulative way, too - implying that ronan and blue both think badly of him while gansey has been defending him so adam owes him. adam again tries to tell him “it wasn’t about you”, which gansey refuses to believe, and reminds adam that the glendower search “belongs” to him. adam replies that if gansey wants adam’s help - which gansey relies upon frequently, as it seems like adam is assigned a very large share of research and coming up with ideas - he needs to treat him as an equal

after the fight, when adam has a mental breakdown due to the combination of stress, ptsd, and magically-induced hallucinations, and is found wandering along a highway, clearly dissociating and undergoing amnesia, gansey is still so bitter about their fight that he contemplates leaving him behind in dc, so that “adam will have to apologize for once” (for once???)

consider all this emphasis gansey puts on how much adam betrayed his trust; consider that gansey then spends nearly two books seeing blue behind adam’s back (starting in tdt, through bllb, and halfway through trk)

consider that despite the fact adam takes the reveal gracefully and thanks gansey for his honesty, when adam later in trk is honest with gansey about his feelings for ronan, gansey’s immediate reaction is to assume adam is using ronan as a sexuality experiment and warns him not to break ronan’s heart, because ronan is just so fragile and adam is just so cold

consider that the only basis gansey has for making this assumption is that “adam has hurt him (gansey) so many times before”, but never stops to think about his own responsibility in their disagreements, or whether he ever hurt adam

as you can see, the vast majority of these are in the first two books, with the exception of the “shovel talk” in trk. i would like to say gansey grows over the series, but i think unfortunately it’s more to do with the fact that starting with bllb, the plot is split between gansey/blue and adam/ronan, so gansey just doesn’t get as many interactions with adam and ronan (he’s still bribing school officials on ronan’s behalf though, including selling monmouth which at the time is where ronan is also living).

gansey isn’t a bad person, and doesn’t (always) mean badly. he does love his friends. unfortunately, his refusal to see things from anyone’s perspective but his own makes him a toxic friend on a great number of occasions.

#trc #meta #gansey #toxic friendship #mp #gotta stop here because i need to work and also i'm getting upset #long post #suicide mention tw #anonymous #answer #my meta

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casey-v · 4 years ago

Text

Valentine

Ethan x Casey

I haven’t written any fics for quite a while, but with OH3 coming soon I’m getting these vibes again….

I always wondered: what would the closing of Edenbrook mean to E x MC’s relationship? Here’s my attempt to this part of the story.

Sorry in advance for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

Warnings: none, I guess (maybe a few smutty thoughts)

Words: 3K

Disclaimer: all characters owned by PB

Participating in @choicesfebchallenge Day14: Valentine

“Good morning Dr. Valentine. This is your day today, isn’t it?” The nurse Rose greeted Casey as she entered the free clinic.

“Good morning. Yeah, I get that a lot.” Casey tried a friendly smile. Since she had been a child everyone referred to her last name on Valentine’s Day, making a remark or joking around. As a teenager it had made her feel special, but by now she was tired of hearing it. Especially today.

She had been in a bad mood since she woke up and it had nothing to do with her last name or Rose. But it had everything to do with the man who simply ignored this day today, probably didn’t even know it existed.

It was perfectly clear to Casey, that these kinds of traditions meant nothing to Ethan. Nevertheless, her disappointment was huge because she had had great expectations for today. After a few difficult weeks she had hoped that a romantic dinner could bring them closer together again.

After the gala and their public kiss everything had seemed perfect and she had spent some time on cloud number nine. But then Ethan gradually became distant and a little grumpy again. They both often worked double shifts and meetings outside the hospital became rare. And they never talked about their life after Edenbrook’s closing. Whenever they got close to that topic, Ethan would change the subject. And Casey was also in denial; she hadn’t applied to any jobs outside greater Boston because she didn’t want to lose Ethan. But maybe it was too late now anyway, she didn’t even know what point in their relationship they really were at.

“Has he told you yet?” Sienna interrupted her thoughts.

“Hi Sienna. No, I still have no idea what we’re doing tonight.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic. For sure he has something incredibly special planned for the two of you.”

Casey tried to maintain a cheerful façade even though she actually felt like crying. But Sienna’s enthusiasm was also kind of sweet, so she managed a smile.

“You seem more excited than I am.”

“I’m hosting a lonely-hearts roomie dinner tonight, so at least let me enjoy the romance in your life.”

Casey felt bad that she was being dishonest with her friend. It was silly, but she would rather spend the night at the movies on her own and then sleep in an on-call room than admit to her friend that Ethan wasn’t going to take her out on a date. Besides, talking about it would make it more real: their relationship was probably on the rocks.

A busy morning at the clinic kept Casey occupied and gave her no opportunity to dwell on her misery. As she was preparing an IV for a patient, she suddenly sensed someone right behind her.

“Dr. Valentine, can you please run some tests on this patient and then get back to me as soon as possible?”

Usually her favorite baritone voice quickened her heartbeat, but today it sounded businesslike and not appealing at all. When she turned around Ethan didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he just thrust a patient chart into her hand and was gone before Casey even had the chance to respond.

At first, she stood there with her mouth open, unable to move, a dreadful feeling spreading through her chest. She had barely seen him all week and that was all she got?

When her vision started to get blurred by tears, she quickly ran to a supply closet, locked the door and sank to the floor.

What now? She couldn’t decide whether she was more sad or mad. How could it be, that things went wrong so fast after everything they had been through together? And how dare he talk to her like a random intern, shoving that patient file into her hands so rudely. He wasn't even her boss anymore.

She still held the chart clutched to her chest and now wanted to check what seemed so urgent. But what she saw didn't make any sense. There was only a last name on it and an address, but everything else was blank. As she turned the page her heart took a leap. She wiped away a few tears and stared at the blank piece of paper. Two words stared back at her.

Dinner tonight?

When she finally remembered to breathe again, she flipped back to the first page and now the pieces were falling into place.

Sorellina, Huntington Ave.

She knew the name had sounded familiar. “Sorellina” wasn't a patient's name; it was the name of a fancy Italian restaurant in the Back Bay. To be sure she pulled out her phone and searched the internet. And what she found there brought a bright smile to her face.

…the ultimate destination if you're looking to really impress a date…

.. one of the most romantic spots in the city…

…awesome place for date nights…

So he didn’t forget after all! But why the strange behavior? Some things didn’t add up. You don’t get a reservation like this one day in advance. He must have planned this weeks ago. A lot had changed since and now maybe he just wanted to give them one last shot? He wouldn’t be so heartless to dump her on Valentine’s day, would he?

Casey was totally confused. Was she just misinterpreting the whole situation? But she couldn’t be that paranoid. Something was brewing and she was determined to find out tonight, no matter what. This time she would confront him and for once she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

But first she had to get through the day somehow, and she had to head home during her lunchbreak to choose a breathtaking dress. And pack an overnight bag, just in case. Not to forget the special brand of scotch she had ordered for Ethan. And she had to tell Sienna. And…

Okay! First of all, she had to calm down and concentrate on her work. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she took a pen out of her pocket and wrote below Ethan’s message.

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

After leaving the supply closet she randomly grabbed two other files, placed hers in between and handed them to an intern. “Please get this to Dr. Ramsey immediately.” Then she went back to her patient, who was still waiting for his IV.

The day seemed to drag on endlessly. In the afternoon she found the piece of paper out of the fake patient file in her coat pocket.

Dinner tonight?

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

my office, 7 pm 😊

He had even drawn an emoji! Smiling she added one more line.

Dessert at your place?

Then she quickly ran upstairs, sneaked into Ethan’s office, and put the piece of paper onto his desk. Her eyes fell on the big clock on the wall: 4 pm! Three more hours to go.

*******

Ethan sat behind his desk, already dressed in his tux, trying to focus on some files. But instead of working, he kept repeating in his head what he wanted to say tonight.

It was ridiculous. Usually, he gave speeches in front of hundreds of fellow doctors and here he was, being nervous about talking to one single woman. The difference was that he felt very qualified to talk about his profession, but he was totally insecure when it came to talking about his feelings. With Casey, he wasn't Dr. Ramsey, a famous and respected diagnostician; with her, he was simply Ethan, a man struggling with the changes in his life.

The sound of high heels echoed through the hallway and announced Casey's arrival. Trying to calm his nerves Ethan busied himself with his paperwork as she entered the office. He didn't raise his head, instead he just glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. As he did, she put her hands on her hips, pushing the winter coat aside to give him full view of her stunning dress. And it had the desired effect. The small piece of black nothingness took his breath away.

“Dr. Ramsey, don't you think it's inappropriate to look at a colleague that way?”

He swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t let her tease him like that.

“Dr. Valentine, don't you think it's inappropriate to wear something like that in your workplace?”

She smirked at him.

“Not as much as taking it off right here in your office.”

Defeated he shook his head, a smile showing at the corners of his mouth. He had to fight the urge to leap over his desk and take her right there against the office door, but instead he only sighed deeply and reached for his coat. This had to wait.

“We better get going or I don't know what I'll do!”

Together they left the office and walked to his car, holding hands. But despite their little banter just now there was an odd silence between them.

*******

The restaurant really was the perfect setting for a special date. Casey was overwhelmed and also kind of intimidated by the atmosphere. To her, it felt more like a first date with a guy she had a crush on than a dinner with the man she had been dating for month. And Ethan seemed equally self-conscious. But after some champagne, they both loosened up and had a really great time.

Almost.

Casey knew Ethan too well by now not to notice that something was strange about him tonight. She couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in her gut.

Back in his apartment, after she had given him her gift, he sat down on the couch with a serious face and asked her to sit down as well.

“I have something for you, too”

Blushing slightly, he handed her a small box and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wanted to…, I mean this is… Oh, just open it and then I’ll explain!”

Carefully, she lifted the lid of the box and saw, lying on a tiny silk cushion, a key. From the looks of it, she assumed it was the key to his apartment. Casey gave Ethan a questioning look and waited for the promised explanation. But it didn’t come. Ethan seemed uncomfortable and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finally, he just blurted it out.

“Want to move in with me?”

Of all the things she had expected him to say, this certainly wasn’t on the list. But why now? Hundreds of different thoughts whirled through Casey’s head all at once. At first she just stared at him, then she burst into tears. For a long time Ethan looked at her helplessly, finally he ran a hand through his hair in frustration and murmured: “Obviously not.”

At that, Casey’s head snapped up. “No, no, no! I do, of course I do!” She wiped some tears from her face and explained between occasional sobs.

“The thing is: Whenever I imagined moving in with you, I got sad about not living with my friends anymore. And now I’ve just realized it doesn’t matter because in a couple of weeks they’ll all be gone anyway, scattered across the country. I’m going to miss them so much. And since I don’t know where I am going to be, there’s no point in moving in with you either.”

She shook her head, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, it just seems that everything is falling apart. This morning I wasn’t even sure whether you want to break up with me or not and I thought that…”

“Whoa, hold it right there. What on earth are you talking about?”

From Ethan’s shocked expression Casey could tell that it had obviously never occurred to him to break up. Slightly embarrassed she continued in an unsteady voice.

“I mean, the way you’ve been acting lately, especially this morning, you’ve been so rude….”

Ethan gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiped away her tears, and sighed.

“Oh Casey, I’m so sorry. But you know me; you know that I hate talking in front of patients. And I had a lot on my mind; I’ve been nervous all day about our date.”

He smiled shyly and shook his head. Then his gaze darkened again, guilt clearly written on his face. His brows furrowed, and he backed away a little.

“Although you’re right that I’ve been putting some distance between us lately. But I needed clarity about the whole job situation. And us. All my life I’ve planned everything three steps ahead and then suddenly it felt like I was losing control. I know I can’t ask you to stay because you have to finish your residency at one of the best hospitals in the country. Thus, I have tortured myself to figure out how we can make things work and I’ve been miserable all this time. Until I realized the answer is fairly simple.”

Casey couldn’t believe that they had both been so distraught for weeks, and instead of sharing and confiding in each other, they were just brooding over the challenges ahead, each to their own. Slowly, the uneasy feeling inside her stomach began to dissipate, although she had no idea what he was talking about.

“What answer?”

Ethan took her hand and he gently drew circles on the back of it with his thumb, his eyes following its movement.

“Edenbrook has been my home for almost 12 years now, and if they take it away from me, what else is there? Naveen, of course, and my father nearby, but other than that ….”

All this time Casey held the box with the key in one hand. Now he took it from her and raised the key to eye level. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the key and Ethan. He cleared his throat in search of words, but they didn’t come. Her heart hammered in her chest, the tension almost unbearable. Finally, his blue eyes met hers and he found the courage to speak, his voice husky and low.

“This isn’t just the key to my apartment, Casey. This key means I want to live with you, wherever that may be.”

His last words were only a whisper. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Casey couldn’t even begin to grasp what it all meant. She would be able to apply to any hospital in the country and Ethan would be with her. Live with her.

An overwhelming feeling of happiness spread through her body.

“You really would do this for me?”

“No, if I’m honest I’m doing this not for you but for myself. I don’t want to go back to being that grumpy cynic I once was before I met you. I’m lost without you.”

The full meaning of his words sent a prickling sensation down her spine, but she was also amused.

“Ethan, you’re one of the most famous and respected physicians, you’ve managed perfectly fine without me for 36 years.”

Ethan put down the key and the box from her hand and took both her hands, his gaze intense.

“But it’s taken me 36 years to find out what it means to be genuinely happy.”

Those last words took all her breath right out of her and her heart was ready to explode. His eyes pierced hers as he waited for a response.

He moved closer und squeezed her hands tightly, his eyes still dark.

“So, what do you say?”

She couldn’t resist the temptation to mess with him.

“Let me get this straight: You’re telling me, if I said no, there would be no one to tell you if you’re acting like a goddam diva again?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth realizing what she was getting at. “Probably.”

Grinning she went on. “And who would be there to help you with your social media accounts?”

“Nobody.”

Ethan’s eyes began to light up as she moved onto his lap, mischief in her smile.

“And there would be no one who would dare to tease you?”

“Right.”

Their faces were now only a breath away.

“And nobody there to make you pancakes?”

“Exactly. What would become of me?”

Her mouth moved to the side of his neck. After a line of soft kisses, she started nibbling on his earlobe and whispered. “And no one, who would do this?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not hard to find someb…”

She quickly backed away and punched his arm playfully. “Don’t you dare!”

Ethan was now gleaming all over his face. He tucked a finger under her chin and gently nudged her nose with his. “So is that a YES?”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Not really!”

And then at last his lips found hers, first slowly, barely touching, until they both gave in and melted into each other. All the tension of the day, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks fell off and there was only him and her. While the kisses grew more and more urgent, his hands started to roam over her body and slowly he unzipped her dress. As his warm hand gently slid down her back, Casey felt his hot breath on her ear.

“If I remember correctly, you promised me dessert.”

“We already had a selection of delicious Italian desserts.”

“But I’m still very hungry. And first of all, this dress has to go. The sight of it has been tormenting me all evening.”

*****

The bedroom was almost dark. Ethan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was unable to put his mind to rest after the events of the day. He turned over to watch the stunning woman sleeping next to him. The moonlight on her face made her even look more beautiful. From now on, he would have the privilege of waking up to this sight every morning. That thought alone made his heart leap.

Gently, he draped the sheets over her shoulder, brushed her hair out of her face and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek; always careful not to wake her.

Smiling down at her he whispered. “I love you, Casey Valentine.”

Never before had these words left his lips. And now didn’t even count either because she couldn’t hear them. He had tried to tell her many times, but the moment never seemed right. Today would have been the perfect occasion, but he had chickened out again.

It was absurd. They had started to plan their future together. Why was it so hard? Three simple words!

Laying back down he whispered, more to himself.

“I’m going to tell you. Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.”

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

Thank you if you have made it so far.

This piece has really been a challenge, it took me forever. I’ve changed it a couple of times and I am still not quite satisfied, but at some point you just have to let go.

Tagging seperately.

#choicesfebruarychallenge2021 #open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #casey valentine #ethan jonah ramsey #my writing #fanfic

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sanjisock · 4 years ago

Text

puddles

ao3

i. arlong park

It does not take long for Sanji to learn that Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves.

He watches in fascination as Zoro faces Mihawk without a single moment’s of hesitation — cut in half, bleeding all over the deck, but his sword stays true still. Zoro dreams, not of being a great swordsman, but of being the greatest; either you are, or you are not.

Sanji can understand that. It is not quite different from his own, if you look at it in the right ways — you either believe in the All Blue, or you don’t. It either exists, or it doesn’t. You can’t bargain with faith.

But Sanji isn’t the same kid with the iron mask all those years ago who had nothing to lose; he has Zeff now, and a debt as heavy as a lost limb that he could never even begin to repay. He knows how much a dream can cost. He knows how much love — true love, the kind with complete and utter devotion — can cost.

Cocoyashi Village is in celebration, and Sanji finds himself tucked into a corner of the party together with Zoro, somehow untouched by the cacophony. They’re still sizing each other up, barely knowing one another past a fight and a promise to a captain. But Zoro has trusted him easily in that very fight, and right now there’s a spark in the air between them, something not entirely different from attraction .

Zoro takes a large gulp from his bottle and gestures back at the ship. “You coming?”

This could be something , Sanji thinks. Wants to try, if he’s being honest.

But Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves — he is not a man who tries . If Sanji takes the leap, this is it — they either are, or they aren’t. And if they aren’t — Sanji isn’t sure a crew as small and as tight-knitted as the Straw Hats can handle a break up, especially so early on in their journey.

(Sanji isn’t sure a heart as weak as his can handle a break up).

“I’ll catch up later,” he shrugs, scrambling for an excuse. He suddenly feels like he’s ten again, terrified and running away. “Been wanting to check out this one recipe from that guy over there.”

“If you say so,” Zoro takes the dismissal in stride, and dumps the empty sake bottle into a barrel as he stands up to leave.

Sanji watches him disappear into the night.

ii. enies lobby

The Mosshead has been giving him the nastiest look ever since the ship sailed away from Water Seven, so Sanji isn’t particularly surprised when Zoro stops him on his track on the way to Usopp’s workshop.

Zoro eyes the colorful drink on the tray in Sanji’s hand like it’s challenged him into a duel, before finally grunting, “you need to stop treating Usopp like that.”

Sanji’s eyes unwittingly follow Zoro’s gaze on the drink he made for Usopp — it has five colors, three different fruits, and a whip cream on top. Entirely too flashy for the male crewmembers, usually reserved for important occasions. Sanji feigns obliviousness, still. “Like what?”

“Like he’s going to break anytime soon,” Zoro says.

“You mean nicely ?” Sanji snarls back. “Like a normal human being? Not everyone is like you, Marimo. Some people have emotions. ”

“It’s insulting , is what it is,” Zoro retorts, his whole body leaning into Sanji’s personal space, like a challenge. “There’s never a need for you to coddle him. Usopp made his decisions as a man back then, and he had to learn the consequences for it — ”

“And he has learned , Zoro,” Sanji cuts in, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, the fight leaving his body in a snap. He sighs. “Look — I get that it’s your thing, protecting our pride as a crew and all. I was on your side, remember? But it’s all in the past, and Usopp’s got your message, loud and clear.”

Sanji thinks of a little boy with the iron mask, who were forced to learn all his lessons the hard way; and what comes out next is, “I’m the cook of this ship. Let me feed him.”

Let me take care of him , he doesn’t say, but it means pretty much the same thing.

There must’ve been something in his voice, because Zoro seems taken aback; all the tension bleeds out from his shoulders, and he’s now looking at Sanji with an unreadable expression.

There’s a moment of silence, stretched long enough to the point of awkwardness, before Zoro says, “ — didn’t mean to. I mean — quite a lot of shit went down, just didn’t wanna see you — don’t overexert yourself.”

Sanji blinks. “What are you saying .”

“All this talk about taking care of people,” Zoro says, hand rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of — what? Embarrassment ? “Why wouldn’t you let me —”

Zoro pauses there, sentence trailing off into nothing; but Sanji has always been good at reading Zoro, and he hears the words anyway.

Why wouldn’t you let me take care of you .

Sanji thinks of the party in Cocoyashi, and then hundreds of moments after that — quiet moments in the galley when Zoro helped him wash up the dishes, playful banters that Zoro could only keep up with. Countless enemies they fight side by side, together, the way he feels his heart beat in sync with Zoro’s from across the battlefield.

“Cook —” Zoro puts his hand on Sanji’s shoulder then, and the touch burns , like an electric shock; it jolts Sanji back from his thoughts, a reminder of the reality between them, the way they would fight as hard as they love, and what would that leave him, in the aftermath?

“Let me go ,” Sanji says before he can stop himself, and practically runs to Usopp’s workshop.

iii. thriller bark

“You’re a dumbass ,” Sanji says.

“Hn,” Zoro says, not arguing for once.

“I’ve always known you have moss for brains,” Sanji continues, fully aware he’s rambling but unable to stop himself, “but who would’ve thought you’d be this dumb. What kind of complete and utter idiot would be so fucking reckless against a warlord for the second time in his life.”

Zoro hums noncommittally.

Sanji tightens the bandage across his torso with a little more force than necessary.

Zoro makes a pained grunt, and Sanji winces at the sound; they’ve roughhoused each other countless of times before, but this is the first time Zoro can’t take something Sanji dished. It shouldn’t be surprising though, not after the wounds he has taken from Bartholomew Kuma —

“You need to learn to pick your battles,” Sanji rambles on, because he’s suddenly hit with the realization that if he stops talking he might actually cry . “Or at least employ some strategies. Ever heard of those? That’s what people with brains usually do when they fight instead of simply waving some pointy sticks against the enemy. Raise your hand a bit —” he moves to the wound on Zoro’s arm, taking greater care to make sure he’s as gentle as possible, a silent apology for the earlier mishap. “Right there. Yeah. Anyways, I was saying —”

“Sanji,” Zoro says, and Sanji stops.

It’s so unfamiliar — the way Sanji’s name rolls off Zoro’s tongue, shaped by his deep voice. It sends a shiver down his spine, Sanji’s heart suddenly rattling against his ribcage.

When he looks up, Zoro is staring back at him with half-lidded eyes, something other than pain marring his gaze.

Longing .

Sanji feels his throat dry all of a sudden.

“Sanji,” Zoro says, voice low and rasp, but steady. And then: “stay.”

Sanji drops the bandages in his hands. He can’t do this — not when he’s staring at the very reminder of what it would cost . The idea of losing Zoro, as a nakama , has already torn him from the inside; he can’t imagine what it’s like to see Zoro’s lifeless body on the infirmary bed, as a lover.

He remembers standing in front of her mother’s grave, feeling like he’s coming apart at the seams, and wanting to tear up the stitches; wishing he could just unravel after so much hurt .

“Zoro,” he says, feeling like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, “I — I can’t —”

But when he dares himself to finally meet Zoro’s eyes, the Swordsman has lost consciousness again.

Sanji flees the infirmary.

iv. zou

He flips BIg Mom’s invitation to the tea party over and over again, staring at the words etched on the paper.

Groom: Third Son of the Vinsmokes, Sanji.

The words settle unpleasantly in his gut, and he swallows, trying to calm himself down. He’s no longer the same weak kid with the iron mask; he’s now a Straw Hat, and he’s going to settle his issues with his pathetic excuse of a family once and for all.

That’s all.

...so why does it feel like this isn’t going to end well with Zoro?

Thoughts of the Shitty Swordsman appear in his mind, unbidden. A scowl, definitely — maybe a few scathing words to accompany the look. Something about Sanji and his self-sacrificial tendencies — as if Zoro has any right to lecture anyone about that — or maybe some diatribe about trusting the crew to take care of one of their own.

Which is not what this is about, at all. Of course Sanji trusts everyone in the crew — trusts Luffy to be able to take care of himself. But this is his problem, and he’s the only one responsible to fix it. There’s no need to trouble everyone with a little family problems.

(So why does it still feel like he’s running away?)

v. whole cake island

“First of all, the captain of my own ship came all this way to track me down,” he says, raising a finger for emphasis, “only for me to insult and hurt him to the best of my ability despite no resistance from him whatsoever. That means I cannot go back to your ship right now.”

Run , he remembers being ten, hearing Reiju’s voice through the prison bars. There is no turning back. Your mistakes are final.

“Second of all,” he continues, “the shitty geezer who saved my life and the home where I was raised are being held hostage in case I don’t play along. That means I cannot escape from this wedding.”

Run , he remembers thinking every time he catches sight of Zeff’s leg. This is the cost of your dream. This is the cost of your love.

“Third of all,” he says, voice rising even higher, “the evil family to which I’m related to is walking into Big Mom’s trap, and they’ll all be slaughtered in a matter of hours. They’re scum of the earth to whom I owe nothing but my hatred but I cannot bring myself to abandon them to their fate and run away!”

Run , he tells himself. Your love worths nothing. You are not worth anyone’s love.

“For these three reason,” he says, eyes avoiding Luffy’s. “I cannot return with the rest of you.”

There’s a bright sunburst of pain against his cheek, and the momentum of the punch throws him against a tree bark, shattering under the impact.

“Tell me how you really feel ,” Luffy yells. “What do you want, Sanji?”

For the first time in his life, Sanji stops running.

(i. wano)

Sanji didn’t notice at first, with all the flurry and chaos of the fight against Kaido; but once things have settled down, it occurs to him that Wano is a spring island.

The air is tinged with the kind of heat that barely tips over to unpleasant, uncomfortable without the unbearable fever of summer. Even the nights are wearily humid, which is why he decided to stray away from the celebration feast into the forest, and finds Zoro training alone, swinging his new sword against the wind.

They have not had a moment to themselves ever since — ever since . All of their conversations have mostly been in the heat of the battle, and Sanji isn’t quite sure if they simply did not have the time, or if Zoro has been avoiding him.

It doesn’t matter — here they are, gravitating towards each other still. As if fate herself has weaved a path for them, time and again.

He thinks he can still hear Luffy asking, in the rain: what do you want, Sanji?

“Zoro,” he says, and faces him, head on. “I am in love with you.”

He thinks Zoro would’ve been surprised, once upon a time; maybe if Sanji dared to say it under the Alabasta moonlight, or bathed by the campfire light in the Sky Islands; but now, it feels superfluous, almost redundant. It is no longer the truth that matters between them.

Zoro finally turns to meet his eyes, and sheathes his sword into its scabbard. “What do you want, Cook?”

The same question, again. He’s been running away for so long, he’s forgotten what truly matters, before the risks and the tragedies and the costs . What he truly wants .

The answer to that has always been simple.

“I want us, Zoro. Together. In whichever way you’ll have me.”

Zoro walks up and stops, right in front of Sanji. “You have me ,” he says. “You’ve always had me. It’s you who’s always —” Zoro pauses, gritting his teeth, frustration written all over his face.

“I know,” Sanji says, heartbeat rising up his throat, his ears, his mouth. “Zoro, I —”

“I need to know ,” Zoro says, hand a hair’s breadth away from Sanji’s own, but not quite touching. “I need to know if you will keep running away from me or not.”

Sanji takes the offered hand and closes the distance between them.

It is a short kiss at first, only a cling of lips — and then he feels Zoro’s free hand drifting up to cradle his face as Zoro leans in for another kiss, and another, little dips of kisses, as if Zoro needed the constant reassurance that Sanji is here, with him. And Sanji can give him that, owe him that much — he breathes into the kiss, chases Zoro’s lips and mouths at the curve of his smile.

“This is it, right?” Zoro says when they part, forehead still pressed against one another’s. “Because this is it for me, Cook.”

Sanji thinks of Zoro, who doesn’t do things in halves. Either they are, or they aren’t. And for once he realizes — not the fear or the risk, but how much of an honor it is, to be loved by this man. Entirely and all-consuming.

“This is it,” he tells Zoro, and squeezes Zoro’s hand. “No more running away.”

#opfanfic #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece

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thatmultifandomhoe · 5 years ago

Text

Type 2

Word Count: 10,755

Overview: You were diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in high school and ever since then, you’ve been able to manage it without a problem. Sticking to a schedule and monitoring your blood was easy, but then came Jimin and suddenly, you found yourself hiding it all from him. But when your blood sugar drops dangerously low in the middle of the night, Jimin’s the only one you can call for help.

Pairing: Jimin and Reader

Genre AU/Rating: - Established Relationship AU - Medical Condition AU - Slice of Life AU - Angst - Fluff Rated: PG-13

Warning: In order of appearance-: Implied bullying, extreme thirst, lack of appetite, weight loss, passing out, type 2 diabetes, drinking, swearing, insecurities, needles, mention of blood while using a blood glucose meter, extremely low blood sugar.

A/N: This is not the story of everyone who goes through Type 2 Diabetes. Not everyone has it when they’re in high school. This fic is loosely based on my experience with caring for my mother who is diabetic, and based on my own family’s history with this condition. My mother who almost her entire family is diabetic, so it was only a matter of time that she would become diabetic, except she was able to keep from being diagnosed until her mid to late 50s. That is not to say you can’t be diagnosed as young as high school or even in middle school, it can happen, I went to middle school with a girl who had a pump in 8th grade. This is just one story.

Master List:

Music Playlist:

Part of the Intimacy Anthology Project

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It first started in high school.

But when you actually sat down and thought about it, the early symptoms were there a year prior in eighth grade. More often than not, your throat was dry, so you always had a water bottle next to you. Back then though it wasn’t as bad. Plus, any conversation with one of the girls who wore makeup every single day – it was always shocking when they announced that their mothers let them – swore that drinking a gallon of water a day, would help with maintaining clear skin.

Whether or not there was logic to this declaration was to be remain hidden – many years later you would learn that actually, there was no science between drinking water and having acne free skin – you and all the other girls hopped on the train. It was because of this promise of clear skin, that no one batted an eye when you began going through a bottle a day, or the fact that you were using the bathroom more often as well.

You were fourteen. Your body was changing, nothing made sense anymore. Happy one minute, then curled up in fetal position as that depressing Sarah McLachlan commercial played on the TV, and you were telling your parents that they needed to adopt a kitten because it was the right thing to do. How were you even supposed to know that what was happening, actually wasn’t all that normal?

Mom simply handed over your water bottle, a bag of the secret stash of chocolate, and a heated rice bag for the cramps, and everything was decently better.

You only thought the sudden extreme thirst was…part of it all.

In freshman year, you were going through bottles to the point that you bought a cute reusable water bottle that you decorated with stickers, never willing to admit how many times you had tipped it back for it to be empty. You weren’t exactly the poster child for going green and advocating climate change, but you weren’t stupid either and knew that the plastic bottles weren’t going to help the Earth.

The popular girls from eighth grade had surged up the ladder, and were now the queens of the freshman class and upturned noses. No longer were they giving compliments or suggestions on how to blend eyeshadow, or discussing the latest trends in fashion. Instead, they ignored the good mornings in the hallways from girls, and laughed as they slammed textbooks out of their hands. Smiles turned into grimaces, and helpful tips morphed into jeering and mean comments usually centered around everyone’s looks.

While you tried to not let their lies get to you, you couldn’t help but pause by a mirror and turn every which angle possible, trying to see the flaws that they pointed out all the time. It was confusing because to be perfectly honest, you were average. There was nothing that made you stand out from the crowd, nor did you hide in the shadows, you were simply in the middle and that never bothered you.

You never gave them the satisfaction of letting them see how their words affected you on the simple fact that they didn’t. Maybe you’d shrug, or raise an eyebrow, before turning away to drink from the trusty water bottle by your side. They meant nothing to you, but everyone around you thought that they did. Friends were quick to jump on the reassurance train, their gazes lingering on the food you barely touched. Even when it was taco Tuesday, you’d barely eat half of it or even less before getting full.

No one seemed to believe that you were full, or that drinking two whole bottles of water by noon made it impossible to shove more than a few bites down your throat.

Dinner was always hard. Sat between mom and dad, the looks they’d give each other as they watched you push at the small amount of food on your plate never went unnoticed. You’d lost track of all the times that mom came into your bedroom to ask if everything was okay, if the girls at school were saying things, or if there was perhaps a guy you were trying to impress. If only you’d gotten a dollar for every time someone asked you that, you would have been a millionaire by sixteen.

Soon you were making excuses to not have to eat around people, saying that you had made up a plate of whatever was left in the fridge and weren’t hungry. At school you started bringing a brown bag lunch. Since you weren’t eating the food you bought, it didn’t make sense to waste money on it. It took a while for your friends to get that you just weren’t hungry, but eventually they knew not to bring it up, letting you eat as little as you want and drink water.

That was fine with you. You were fine, that was what you told them and you wanted them to believe them. You didn’t want them to know that every night before bed you stood in front of the mirror on your wall, turning side to side and every which way to see the new curves from your chest to your hips, or the gap between your thighs.

They didn’t need to know that you despite the fact that you’d refill the water bottle three times a day at school, you’d refill it four additional times at home. Or how your belt now had extra holes that you had punched in it an attempt on your part to keep what was happening a secret.

Every weekend was reserved for sleepovers, movies, and at home facials with you and your friends, equally rotating between everyone’s house to keep it fair on who hosted. It was how you were able to relax and have fun, but it was hard to hide the sudden changes. At first, you started arriving already in your PJs, that way none of them had to see you change, but then they stared as you barely touched any of the snacks. The same ones that you all used to bake together. Then every time you got up to use the bathroom they’d sigh, having to pause the movie or wait for you to come back to continue playing whatever board game was out.

After three attempts, you stopped going to the sleepovers, giving some excuse that you weren’t feeling well, or that you were behind on a pile of homework. Whether they believed it or not, your friends accepted it without a second thought.

Those months of confusion and sudden changes felt like they were moving at a snail’s pace, but then one day you blinked and it was two days before Christmas, and none of your clothes fit you anymore. Everything was hanging on you, you were in the bathroom multiple times within a couple hours, and your throat felt like it was filled with sand that no matter how much water you drank, never seemed to offer any relief.

It was a vicious cycle that no one could ignore anymore. You weren’t yourself anymore, barely even a shell of the human who you had once been.

The morning it happened you had once again been in the bathroom going pee. When suddenly, your head felt heavy, too burdensome for your shoulders, so you leaned back against the wall to relieve yourself of some of the weight. Black dots filtered in your vision as you cleaned yourself up, the toilet flushing as you stumbled to the sink. The water rushed from the sink as you stood in front of the mirror, barely able to make out your own reflection and going fuzzy when you walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the water or the lights as you left. You didn’t remember even opening the door.

Someone had been walking by at the moment, although they didn’t know it, you felt like your mind was underwater, unable to think let alone speak as you tried to go back to your room. It was your mother. She stared wide eye at you stumbling around the hallway like a drunk and when she called out your name, you didn’t even hear her.

She called your name again. Then a third time. It was on the fourth that you looked over at her, your mouth moving and filled with sand, only nothing come out. The last thing you saw was her running towards you. Then it was dark.

The next time you’d open your eyes it was with a stark realization that you were no longer at home. A glance to your left revealed box monitors and tubes of all types, one of them connected to the IV in your arm and the other going to a monitor that was attached to your pointer finger. The bed wasn’t comfy and at some point, someone had changed you out of your PJs and into a light green hospital gown.

The door opened as a nurse in blue scrubs walked in, her blond ponytail pulled high up as she carried a chart, smiling when she saw you.

“Good to see that you’re awake,” she said, coming to your side to read the numbers, marking some notes down. “How are you feeling?”

Wetting your lips, you tried to speak but like always, your throat was dry.

The nurse glanced over and seeing your struggle, held up a finger as she walked to the connected bathroom, water suddenly running before being turned off as she came back with a plastic cup.

“Go slow,” she instructed, helping to bring the mattress up so you were sitting as she gave you the cup.

It took a few minutes, but when your throat wasn’t so dry, you tried again. “What happened? Where…where are my parents?”

She was changing out the IV bag for a new one, and you wondered if your body had really emptied that packet dry. “You passed out hun, but don’t worry, your parents just went to get some snacks from the vending machine. I’ll go get them and then the doctor will be right in to explain everything.”

“Am I okay?”

Her badge turned right side, showing her ID and that her name was Jenna. “Everything will be fine. The doctor will explain and answer any questions.”

You watched as Jenna connected a new IV bag, once again reassuring that she’d be back with everyone before leaving the room as the cold liquid entered your veins, surprising you with how good it felt.

Jenna kept her promise. First bring round your parents who hurried to hug you, telling you how worried they were about you and asking how you felt. In only a few short minutes the doctor came back with the nurse, smiling as she pulled out a chair to sit on.

It wasn’t cancer, nor was it anything uncommon that would puzzle the doctors on how you got, but rather something that you had heard of all the time in health classes.

You were diabetic. Type two to be exact.

They had run some blood tests and from what they were able to tell, your blood sugars had dropped low during your sleep and hadn’t gone back up when you woke. Combined with the loss of weight and dehydration you were experiencing, your body’s natural instinct was to protect itself and, in this case, that meant passing out.

The doctor reassured that it at least explained the various changes you had been experiencing, and as grateful as you were to finally understand what was going on, it now meant that your way of life was going to change, again.

Now your life revolved around using a glucose meter to check your blood sugar throughout the day, taking medicine that would help regulate your numbers, cutting back on sweets and various other foods that had tended to make them high. Slowly but surely you were able to gain back some of the weight you had lost, and the trips to the bathroom slowed down. You were living a new life trying to find the perfect balance.

One thing had been made clear by the doctor that day. This was lifelong. It was never going to go away; it was something that could only be managed.

So, you managed. All through high school, and then all through college, you managed to maintain your numbers, discovering that when you felt sluggish and off it usually meant your blood sugar was either really high or really low. Besides that, you normally felt fine and took shots at mealtimes and before bed to help regulate your levels.

That was the second, biggest change in your life. Every pill and medicine that the doctor prescribed to help with your levels had its side effects, and the world must have had a grudge on you because every single one made you ill or have a reaction. Usually insulin was a last resort option, but in your case, it was the only thing that appeared to help.

Downside to taking the shots were the prices, they were the true killer, but like everything in your life, you managed it all. Your parents of course worried, and the day you had moved out was perhaps the most nerve wracking for them. You were going to be on your own for the first time ever, it was a big moment, and as much as you appreciated and loved them, it was time for you leave home.

Having this new lifestyle didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything; your life was perhaps more or less the same as any other adult that you knew who was your age. Went to work five days a week as a dental hygienist, spent the weekends catching up on chores, and binge watching the latest shows on Netflix.

The only thing missing, was a love life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t try. There were multiple first dates and a couple second dates, but rarely was there a third. No matter what you did or how you tried to explain it, they all got uncomfortable when you mentioned that you were diabetic. At first it didn’t seem like it would be an issue. But when you’d get up a few minutes before the meal came and you’d explain that you needed to take a shot, they all clammed up. Like they were suddenly realizing that what you were more trouble than you originally appeared to be. That you actually had a condition that affected your life.

After that they’d stop calling, the texts they’d send were more apologetic and that they were busy. There were never anymore dates after that, and unable to help yourself you’d check their social media, not surprised when there were new pictures with a new girl, usually captioned with some type of heart emoji.

If they were dumping you for something that was out of your control, then you were the lucky one for avoiding what could be a toxic relationship. At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was good that you were waiting for the right person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. How could anyone decide that you weren’t worth the time simply because you needed to take insulin?

You were a human being. Nowhere did it say you didn’t deserve love.

Despite that mindset, you once again found yourself coming home from a date that had no future of a third. Tossing your keys on the bed, you rummaged around your purse for the two cases stashed inside, still dressed in the cute outfit that had taken a majority of the morning to decide on. The cases themselves were adorable, and pretty cheap on Amazon. The first was purple and no bigger than your palm while zipped up. The second one was a light blue wristlet that was slightly longer.

You sighed while setting them on the nightstand, resentment filling your heart. The purple bag contained your pen and glucose meter with the test strips, and the other had your insulin, alcohol wipes, and spare needles. They were the very things that you needed to stay alive. They told you your numbers, it was how you decided on how many units to take with meals, and yet, they appeared to be a part of the reason that you couldn’t seem to hold on to a relationship.

It just fucking…sucked.

No longer caring that you had spent several hours to get the curls just right, you ran a hand through your hair. Mike had made it clear after your explanation for why you needed the light blue case just to go to the bathroom, that there wasn’t going to be a second date.

Which is fine, you thought, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs up to sit criss cross on the bed. He only talked about himself the entire time. And his ex-wife.

Maybe it was because you were telling them early on. Wasn’t there some unwritten rule about not talking about medical things on the first couple dates? Granted, a majority of them wanted to go out to eat for the dates and you couldn’t exactly not take a shot, but it wasn’t like you were doing it right there at the table. You always went to the restroom and used the stall with the changing table to be able to lay everything out.

Glancing at the two cases, you pressed your lips together. This was a major part of your life; it was part of your identity. But maybe…maybe if they didn’t know? What if you hid this from the next guy? It probably wouldn’t do much, if it did, were you really going to hide such an important part of yourself in the name of love?

They always seem to run off when I tell them, you thought. What’s the harm in waiting, and seeing if it’ll last more than a few dates before I tell?

It seemed pretty extreme. But there was only one way to find out.

As you settled back against the pillows, turning on Netflix once again, you couldn’t but hope that this didn’t backfire on you.

“You did what?”

Pressing your lips together, you rested your forehead against the fridge. It was a bad idea to tell you best friend what you had done. You knew that she’d say it was wrong to lie, to hide such an important part of your life from him. She was the voice of logic and reason, which was terrifying at times, but that was Kayla.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge, you glanced over your shoulder. She was staring at you, eyebrow raised as she tapped her nails against the table, waiting to hear your excuse.

“I…I haven’t told him.”

“And you’ve been dating for how long now?”

You stirred the mug until it was caramel in color, starring down at the coffee and partially wishing that you could shrink and run away from her reaction. “Three months.”

“Dude!”

Wincing, you stashed the milk away to carry the two cups of coffee to the table, setting Kayla’s down on the cozy you had out. She thanked you, absentmindedly stirring the spoon out of habit.

It was a Saturday ritual the two of you had since meeting in college. The two of you bonded while waiting in an excessive line for coffee on campus, and despite it being ridiculously long, neither one of you was willing to leave. Coffee was what you considered your life blood, and funny enough, so didn’t Kayla.

That day forward, the two of you always got coffee together before classes, and on Saturdays you bought a box of munchkins with iced coffee before retreating back to the lounge to relax and bitch about anything and everything. She knew about your diabetes, didn’t mind that you could only have a few treats before stopping, and when she hung out in your dorm room, she hadn’t been uncomfortable with seeing you having to take a shot.

After that semester, the two of you became roommates for the reminder of college. Even after graduating and moving out in the real world, getting real jobs, Saturdays were still for coffee and bitchin’.

“Walk me through this decision again?” She asked, reaching over for one of the glazed munchkins.

You lightly tapped the spoon against the rim of the coffee mug, slouching in your seat as you wrapped your fingers around it. The warmth spread through your fingers instantly, soothing a few nerves for the moment. Kayla was your best friend yes, but she also had very strong opinions.

“I was just, sick of finding dead ends,” you answered, staring down at the mud colored coffee. Just the way you liked it. “Every time I had explained that I needed to take a shot to manage my blood sugar, they all froze up. And then they’d tell me after the date ended that it wasn’t going to work, or they’d ghost me without any warning.”

It sucked. It really did, but for once you just wanted to be with someone and be happy. There had already been too many times that you’d gotten your hopes up over a guy only for it to end, without even an explanation no less.

Kayla covered your hand with hers, gently squeezing when you looked up at her. Her red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her freckles scattered across her face and body. She refused to cover them up with makeup, and even then, you wouldn’t dare let her do so either. As much as you treasured her, you had witnessed first-hand her attempting to do makeup so badly that it nearly sent you to cardiac arrest.

“Hey,” she softly said. “Those guys were dick bags, there’s no need to beat yourself over them.”

Chuckling, you raised the mug to your lips, glancing in the living room. The apartment wasn’t the largest or the fanciest, but you were able to leave a piece of yourself in each room. Sunlight streamed through the bay window and through the dream-catcher you had hanging on the lock. Bailey, Kayla’s little teacup terrier, was taking advantage of said light and was napping on the couch.

“I’m guessing I should have sent them all to you?”

“Of course,” Kayla agreed, leaning back in the chair. “I would have kicked their asses and told them what type of scum they are.”

You reached over for your own munchkin, placing it on the saucer to break it in half. “Sorry, but I think you’ve missed your chance.”

“Dammit.”

Amused, you popped a piece into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate. Life had certainly taken the two of you in directions that neither of you expected, but you treasured these Saturdays. It was like nothing had changed and you were back in college, talking about the classmates that annoyed the crap out of you, pointing out the cute ones, and procrastinating on the assignments that needed to be done.

“So, are you going to tell me about him?” Kayla asked. “Last thing you said was that your neighbor was setting you up. Does he deserve the best friend approval?”

At the thought of Jimin, you were grinning into your coffee, coyly trying to avoid eye contact with her as she squealed. Her reaction was so strong that it woke Bailey up, causing her to bark a few times. Which was more adorable than it was intimidating like the dog probably thought.

Flipping your phone screen side up, you went to go find a picture of him for her. “He’s very, very sweet,” you said, handing the device over for her to scroll through. “And kind. He works at the animal shelter in town, loves to take Polaroid pictures, and he indulges in my coffee addiction.”

“I love him already.”

You grinned at that, taking a drink as she cooed and laughed at the various photos, and you began to tell her the story about how you met him.

As much as you hate to admit it, you had been apprehensive about your downstairs neighbor set you up with his friend for a blind date. It wasn’t that you were complete strangers with Taehyung - the guy was pretty chill and kept things interesting with constantly dying his hair - it had been more along the lines that you didn’t know much about him besides the conversations the you shared before going your separate ways.

According to your neighbor, your dating life – or non-existent one – hadn’t gone amiss on him either, and conveniently had a friend who was also in the single pool for quite some time, so he thought it would be nice to help you out. Actually no, he flat out told you he was setting the two of you up for a date. With only a moment’s hesitation were you able to say no dinner dates before he disappeared inside, tossing a thumb’s up over his shoulder for you and shut the door.

The next morning when you left for work, there was a sticky note on your door telling you to be at the 10th annual Flower Shower festival that Saturday for one. Jimin would be waiting at Paws for Days, the animal shelter.

The Flower Shower festival the town’s way of sharing their love of flowers and nature with everyone. Every shop that decided to participate in the event was assigned a different type of flower, and with that, they decorated their stores with it. They were then automatically entered into a contest to see who was the most creative with their assigned floral. First place was given a trophy stating that they were the winners of that year’s festival, and second and third were given ribbons and a plant of their choice.

What made it such a hit, was perhaps was the event that gave it its namesake. During the day, not only were there flowers decorated on the storefronts, but each company was able to hand out coupons for their flower that could be turned in at one of the many floral shops in the area. There were stalls for making and selling flower crowns, jewelry, perfumes, anything and everything imaginable that could incorporate flowers into a product filled the streets to be sold. Even food vendors went all out with all the stops.

Filling in any empty spaces were local artists, using any and all varieties of flowers to create sculptures, sometimes of small animals that a person could hold in their hands, to ones so large that it required ladders and multiple hands to help. Face and body painters had kids and adults of all ages waiting in line, eagerly handing over the few bucks to be decorated with flowers and various other decorative forms of flower power.

It was like the hippie movement met modern times for a day.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all the events, was the parade that happened at the end of the day. The festival couldn’t last all night since it would be hard to see the flowers, so the ending parade occurred at six. All the contest participants and winners walked along with the vendors and painters, each carrying baskets with flower petals or single flowers to throw out to the crowd, and while they held the attention of everyone, up on the rooftops of all the buildings were volunteers who waited for their to cue to toss buckets of petals on to the crowd below. It was as if the entire world was hitting pause on the bitterness of life, to enjoy a moment of beauty to take a shower, made out of flowers.

You never knew what it was about flowers that had the entire town obsessed with them, there were at least six shops dedicated to flowers and bouquets – one at least in particular focused mainly on gardening tools, sculptures, and fountains – within the downtown area.

Which made having your first date with Jimin at the Flower Shower festival all the more pleasing. It was more exciting and had plenty of things to do than going to another restaurant, but at the same time, a bit nerve wracking. Not only was it another first date, with a guy that you’ve never met in your life, hoping that your neighbor hadn’t set you up with some weirdo. This was the first date you were going on with the decision to not tell him about being diabetic.

Even though you weren’t going to bring it up, you still packed the cases into your purse, not wanting to risk needing it and not having them on you. After dressing in shorts and a loose flowery blouse with sandals, even doing your makeup lightly to match with the summer theme, you were ready to go out. Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, but your hand had been shaking to the point that you had to set down the mascara brush or stab yourself in the eye with it.

This was your first chance at seeing if it really made such an impact on your love life, making it felt like you were stepping into the dating scene all over again. That was what made it terrifying. This simple date would tell you whether or not you weren’t able to hold a relationship because of your lifestyle, or if it was because of you.

If it was because of the needles, then that you could understand. Not everyone was fond of them, and dealing with having to give yourself shots four times a day can be annoying at times, but if it was because of you in general…well, that was the ultimate sucker punch to the gut.

Before you could let yourself get lost in the sink hole of self-doubt, you forced yourself to leave, locking the door without even thinking to double check that you had everything that you needed. Luckily, you did.

It was to your advantage that you lived downtown. Walking to the shops only took five, maybe ten minutes if you were feeling lazy and with the location of Paws for Days in mind, you headed down the street in its direction.

The sun was high in the sky, occasionally blinding you when you passed by the tall buildings and gaps in the trees, but you felt the heat of the sun on your arms, and saw the clear bright blue sky overhead. It all helped to take your mind off what Jimin was like. Hell, you didn’t even know what he looked like. All that Taehyung wrote was that he would be outside by the shelter’s sign.

Nearing the heart of town, you weren’t all that surprised to see that nearly everyone in town was walking the streets, making it almost impossible to tell them apart from the people who were working.

Paws for Days was a street down from being smack in the center of town, and resembled a large farmhouse with floor to ceiling windows on the front entrance, allowing everyone to look in and see the cats and occasional dog walking around the front of the store. They took in animals of every breed, and were also a no-kill shelter. During the warm months it was common to hear dogs barking in the larger fenced in area behind the building as the animals played and ran about, enjoying the time out in the sun.

As you neared the shelter, it was the sound of barking and kids laughing that made you smile. In their front lawn, staff had set up play pen areas for the smaller dogs to sit out on the grass and roll around. Parents with babies carefully held them as they leaned down, allowing their child to gently pet animals and laughing as their palms get licked. There were other areas for the larger dogs, but a large banner that was attached to the shelter’s roof stole your attention.

Paws for Days 10th Annual Adoption Day!

You hadn’t realized that in addition to it being the tenth anniversary of the Flower Shower festival, it was also an anniversary for the shelter as well. Staff was walking around with blue shirts with the name of the shelter written in black, a little black paw print serving as the period. Flower crowns made out of orange cream roses sat on everyone’s head, and as you looked around, a group of people around your age appeared to be constructing a giant sculpture of a…well, it had paws and the lower half of an animal body.

Maybe later you’d come back and see what it turned out to be.

Continuing towards the shelter, you tried to look for the sign, but with a swarm of people walking in your way so they could either play with the animals or actually go inside to adopt, it took a little longer to reach your destination.

When you finally broke through and stepped away to the side to catch a breather, you were able to see the shelter’s wooden sign. To no one’s surprise, there was a stone statue of a cat and dog sitting next to each other, with a bird on top of the dog’s head. It was adorable.

The man standing next to the sign however, was godly looking.

“No, fucking way,” you said, taking advantage of the fact that he was looking at his phone to stare at him.

The fact that his hair was dyed wasn’t shocking – you had partially expected that considering Taehyung was always dying his – but the mix of pink and orange hues suited Jimin so perfectly that it appeared natural on him. The sunlight glinted off of the silver chained earring he wore along with the silver rings on his fingers, all while standing out in a black t-shirt and jeans despite it being warm out. To top it all off, an orange cream rose flower crown that matched his hair color perfectly, was carefully placed on his head to resemble a halo, and he held on to a spare in his free hand.

Taehyung had completely, and utterly, forgotten to mention that his single friend, was insanely hot.

Maybe…maybe that’s not him, you thought, carefully wetting your lips as you walked over to him. Maybe this is some other guy, standing right where Taehyung had said, and was waiting for someone else.

He slipped his phone into his pocket before you were able to reach him and looked up, meeting to meet your gaze. The wire framed sunglasses he wore were tinted with pink lenses.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft and gentle, putting your nerves at ease as he smiled widely when you got closer. “You’re Taehyung’s neighbor, right?”

You shyly smiled, nodding as you supplied your name, which only helped to make the corner of Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he repeated your name. To you, your name was just that, a name. Nothing more and nothing less. But hearing he say it, it was like a pretty melody slipping out of his mouth.

Jimin held up the spare flower crown, pressing his lips together as he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you one. Is it okay if I…?”

“Of course,” you answered. It was sweet that he had gotten one for you, and as he stepped closer to put it on your head, you felt your cheeks warming up at how close he was. You were even able to catch a whiff of his cologne, just the faintest scent that wasn’t overwhelming like how some people tended to bathe in perfume.

“They’re roses,” Jimin explained, adjusting the crown so it sat on your head like his. “Orange roses. I had to ask for them specifically in case any of the animals tried eating them. Roses at least, are not as poisonous as a lot of other flowers.”

“They’re still toxic to them though, right?”

Jimin leaned back, quirking an eyebrow as his smile softened to grin. “Well, I don’t recommend eating them, for either animals or humans. They’ll probably make you sick...”

“He’s a smartass just like us,” Kayla interrupted, grinning as she handed you back your phone.

Laughing, you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he can be. But he’s just, one of the sweetest guys I’ve met.” Double tapping your phone, the lock screen revealed itself to be a picture of Jimin. You had taken it one day when you went and visited him at the shelter. He had been holding one of the calico cats, even rubbing his nose against hers, and your heart melted at the sight. Now your heart melted every time you turned on your phone.

“And he really has no idea?”

The room fell silent then. Which wasn’t surprising considering that the two of you were introverts at heart, but together, you were loud and proud. Add in coffee and the entire world better watch out.

“Jimin’s seen me check my blood,” you slowly answered. The phone screen went black when you didn’t swipe it. “He saw the meter one day, so I explained that with my family history, that I have it as a way to monitor my blood.”

Usually, you had been so good about hiding your meter and needles when Jimin came around to your home. For some reason on that day, it had slipped your mind and the next thing you knew, Jimin was holding it up and asking about it.

You weren’t outright lying. The family history wasn’t that decent, and you did have to check your blood, so it was more of a partial truth. Maybe it was because he had seemed curious and interested in the item, but ever since that day, guilt had been gnawing away at your heart. You were still avoiding the truth, and if you wanted this relationship to work out, the only way it could would be if you told him.

Looking away from the coffee, you pressed your lips together upon seeing the way Kayla was gazing at you, her eyes softening as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. There were no words needed however. You knew that it wasn’t going to end well if you remained silent, but the lingering fear was still there.

What if it was too much for Jimin? What if after you told him, he decided that it wasn’t worth it? That you, weren’t worth it?

It was all just…terrifying.

“You know,” Kayla gently said, reaching out and reassuringly squeezed your hand. “If for some reason, it doesn’t work out…Bailey and I got a spare room for you to have.”

She had offered you the spare room more times than you could remember, especially after graduation, but you loved the town you grew up in. It was home and had everything you always wanted. But you squeezed her hand back tightly, looking up at her with a smile.

“I thought that was Bailey’s room?”

“Oh, it is. She’s fucking spoiled rotten. You’re the only human being I’d sacrifice my queen-sized bed for a bunk bed.”

Laughing, you shook your head as Kayla joined in. Even Bailey tried barking at the sudden noise.

You had to tell Jimin the truth. There was no if, ands, or buts about it. For right now, you were willing to pretend for a little bit longer, wanting to savor in his love before it all came crashing down.

You leaned over Jimin, stretching your hand out for the wine glass on the coffee table, his palm sliding down your back to your hip as you moved about. When you settled back against his side, the wine glass in hand, his chest shook as he chuckled when you tried to take a sip only to realize that you would have to sit up to get a decent drink.

“Oh shush,” you murmured, lightly swiping at his shoulder.

It only made Jimin giggle even more though, and a glance at his own wine glass that was sitting on the wooden floor by the couch revealed it to be empty. You were still on your first, knowing full well that there was a chance that a glass of your beloved Witching Hour Red Blend wine might spike your blood sugar, but Jimin had finished his first one within a half hour after arriving for dinner.

Not that you were going to judge. It was Friday night, neither of you had work tomorrow, and it was so damn good. There was no harm in letting loose and indulging in the fun adult drinks.

His keys were on the coffee table next to the black wine bottle along with his phone, and you must have eyed them for longer than you thought because next thing you knew, his hand was trailing up your back as he pushed himself up, capturing your attention.

“Sleepover?” Jimin said, locks of his pink hair falling into his gaze.

Smiling, you hummed in agreement, partially relieved that he wouldn’t go out driving, and partially thriving at the idea of waking up next to him tomorrow morning.

“Good, that means I can do this then…”

You frowned at first, suddenly gasping as the glass clinked against the rings on his fingers when he took your glass and raised it to his lips, successfully drinking about half of it in one gulp.

“You have your own glass,” you whined, pouting at the small amount he had left for you.

Jimin only grinned, setting the glass down on the table before pulling you close until he was able to claim you for a kiss. His lips tasted rich like cherries, and whether it was the wine talking or not, but he felt more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever had.

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip before slipping in, his arms wrapping around your waist as the kiss grew in intensity, your hands unashamedly going under his t-shirt to roam up his body. Before you were able to crawl on top of him, he broke the kiss.

“No offense,” Jimin said, kissing your forehead to make up for suddenly stopping. “But your couch sucks to have sex on.”

That put a halt to where you mind had been going, recalling the one time the two of you ended up fucking on the couch. It had been rushed and both of you were too horny to even think about going to the bedroom.

“Yeah,” you agreed, giggling as you stood, taking the bottle and slipping your own glass between your fingers. With a coy smile, you walked backwards to your bedroom. “Good thing I have a fucking awesome bed though.”

His laughter filled the room as he swiped up his own glass, hurrying after you, and not just because you were holding the rest of wine hostage with the promise of sex, but because you were the one sweetly carrying his heart.

Blinking your eyes open, you frowned as you stared up at the ceiling, cold sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, the sheets wet underneath your back. You glanced to your side, the bright red numbers of the clock reading 3:00 A.M in the dark room, and on your right, Jimin’s soft snores reassured you that he was still asleep.

So why were you wide awake?

With careful movements, you moved so you were sitting on the edge of the bed, ignoring how the air hit your wet back. It was as if someone had turned up the heat despite it being summer. Everything was pointing towards a bad dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you woke up from a nightmare, unable to recall it but be drenched in sweat. It was with that mindset that you leaned down to pick up Jimin’s shirt, slipping it on to go to the bathroom, but the moment you stood on your own feet, the world slanted.

You barely caught yourself against the wall as you stumbled forward, feeling lost in a haze as you kept walking until you felt the sharp coldness of wooden floors on the bottom of your feet. The faint glow of the orange nightlight in a socket was blurry, acting as a guide as you stumbled around, trying to reach the kitchen table.

The meter. You needed your meter.

Head heavy, your heart raced in your chest when you suddenly felt the floor underneath you. A sharp pain slicing through your hip and a harsh whack had your leg aching, but it cleared away the haze, allowing you to think as you leaned against what you felt to be the couch.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness but you didn’t dare risk standing, but you couldn’t just sit there. There was nothing within your reach for you to grab and make noise. The last time something like this had happened was back in high school, and that had been when you ended up in the hospital. Whimpering, your body felt heavy as you tried to move, the soft pap sound of footsteps echoing in the short hallway barely catching your attention.

“Baby? I heard a thud, you okay?”

The light suddenly came on, burning your eyes as you tried to move, but like when you had first stood up, your head felt twenty pounds heavier, forcing you to lean back against the couch.

“What the fuck? Baby?!”

Jimin’s feet slammed against the floor as he hurried to sit in front of you, eyes wide awake as he cupped your cheek and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you to rest against his chest. His fingers were blissfully cold compared to your heated skin, and for several moments, all you could focus on was his touch, unable to hear him call out your name several times.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shakily inhaled as you tried to focus and ignore the way the world seemed to suddenly tilt again. “My meter,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I need to check my blood. Something…something’s wrong.”

Vaguely you pointed towards the kitchen table, but luckily, Jimin had seen you place the meter there on multiple occasions. After leaning you against the couch again, he hurried to the table, pushing random notebooks and mail out of the way to find the purple bag. With a tug at the zipper, it revealed the meter and pen you needed.

“Hey baby, stay awake, please.” Jimin said, gently touching the side of your face, still holding on to the bag and its contents. Despite having watched you use them; he didn’t understand how to work the machine.

Maneuvering his way behind you once again, his legs were on either side of you as he pulled you to his chest. The shirt you wore was damp and he tried to move your hair off your neck and forehead.

It took a few moments, hands fumbling as you put a test strip into the meter and using the pen to prick your finger, the blood pooling up without even having to squeeze the area. The screen beeped as it calculated the glucose level, beeping again with a final result.

“It says fifty,” Jimin read aloud. “Is that…is that not good?”

“No,” you said, eyes wide as you stared at the meter, knowing that it would get worse if it got any lower. “It’s too low, I need…sugar. Orange juice, ice cream, something.”

Lifting your hand up to the arm of the chair, you tried to pull yourself up to get something, but Jimin’s heart raced at the prospect of you trying to walk around in this state, so he held you tighter to keep you on the ground and stood up himself.

“I’ll get it,” he said. He didn’t even give you a chance to argue. Instead he hurried to get the food you had mentioned, already figuring that you needed stuff that either had natural sugars, or were found in the junk food.

His arms were full with food and dishes when he came back, not knowing what exactly you wanted or would be best for this situation. Even though he wanted to help out, wanted to make this easier and go away, he had no idea what to do. Never in his life had he come across a situation that was like this. All he knew was that from the way you were moving so slow and how there was little to no color to your skin, this wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell Jimin. Out of every scenario that you’ve mulled over, this wasn’t even in the top twenty. To find you in a state like this so soon in the relationship must be a scene out of a nightmare for him.

Seeing the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream he had gotten out, you reached over and grabbed it along with the spoon. The treat was rarely touched since it was stashed away for special occasions that you treated yourself to, but this time you took a spoonful of the Half Baked delight, wishing that this was a chance where you could relax and enjoy it.

While you were eating that spoonful, Jimin quietly removed himself from you. He didn’t speak as he went into the bathroom, the water running loudly in the otherwise silent house before it was turned off just as quickly, and returned to his place behind you. It was without a word that he gently gathered your hair, bringing it into the messy bun that you always threw it up in when the two of you decided on having a lazy day. The task at hand was almost all but forgotten when the cold cloth was set on the back of your neck.

The gesture itself had your eyes stinging, the reality of everything suddenly crashing around you and how this could have gone if Jimin wasn’t here. The shirt was originally Jimin’s and while his clothes usually hung on you, had been clinging to your skin and making it impossible for you to forget about. It hadn’t been the biggest concern you had at the moment, which forced you to put it to the back of your mind for the time being.

A stray whimper escaped your lips, capturing Jimin’s attention as you set the ice cream container down to cover your face with your hands, silencing the cries and trying to hide from him. He wasn’t running away or staring at you like something was wrong, nor was he accusing you of lying and deceiving him. Instead, he simply rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck and cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby,” Jimin murmured, tilting his head to add a kiss to your shaking shoulders. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, let’s get your blood sugar where it needs to be.”

As reassuring as that was, it only made you cry harder, the tears slipping through your fingers and dripping on to your thighs. He was right. You needed to focus on your blood sugar, but his soft whispers and the way his hands gently rubbed and squeezed your legs meant so much more.

For the first time in so long, a guy wasn’t disgusted by you. Instead he was here, doing the things that he could to help, and he was loving you.

When you finally felt like you could keep going, you sniffed and lifted your head, the lightest of touches caressing your cheek had your heart thumping. Again, you checked your blood. It went up ten points, but you sighed, and scooped out another spoonful of the ice cream in an attempt to raise it. It would probably be sky high by the time morning arrived, but it wasn’t going up fast enough at the moment.

Over the course of an hour, you sat on the floor in-between Jimin’s legs, checking your blood every ten minutes to see if it had gone up, and alternating between spoonsful of ice cream, cups of orange juice and peanut butter crackers, a combination that had your nose scrunching up every time.

Jimin stayed the entire time, only getting up to put away some of the food that you weren’t eating. Even after that he retook his spot and held you just tight enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting you go.

By the time it finally reached one hundred, you pushed the container of ice cream away from you and leaned back into Jimin’s embrace. It was still low. No longer did you feel out of control of your body, the sweat had dried to your skin and if you were to stand, you were certain that there wouldn’t be any more stumbling on your part. Although you doubted that Jimin would let you out of his sight for the next few days.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Wide awake in the dead of night, apparently not seeing any other option, Jimin reached out for the ice cream and took a spoonful for himself. The gesture itself was so simple, so ordinary, as if the two of you always woke up at the hour dedicated to artists who found solace under the stars and moon, to share a pint of ice cream on the living room floor, that you giggled.

Raising an eyebrow, the corner of Jimin’s mouth curled upwards at the sound of your laugh. He hadn’t realized that this scare would make him miss such a pretty sound so much. Licking the rest of the spoon clean as he maintained eye contact with you, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make you laugh once more.

As much as you would rather spend the rest of the time making each other laugh and eating to your heart’s desire, you knew that he was owed an explanation to everything that’s happened.

“I was diagnosed in high school,” you said. Your gaze fell from his face to the floor, only then noticing that Jimin didn’t have any pants on. He had come rushing out in only his boxers and stayed in them this entire time. “I’m a type two diabetic, which means that my body produces the insulin that it needs, but for some reason my body doesn’t process it and rejects it.”

Jimin patiently listened to your explanation. As you spoke, the invisible weight that had settled on your shoulders when you decided to hide this part of your life was being chipped away at, piece by piece until it felt like you were free. The nerves didn’t fly away, instead they settled nicely in your stomach for the time being, not making themselves known until you closed your mouth, waiting for his reaction.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand to run it through his hair. “Does this happen a lot? Your levels dropping like this?”

“No. This…” you set a hand on his thigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know what happened. I took my shot before dinner, and then I took my night one.”

“Baby, I never saw you take any shot.”

Pressing your lips together, you closed your eyes, the butterflies having found the perfect moment to take flight right then and there. This was it, the moment you had been dreading this entire time. “I… I had my bag with my insulin pens and needles hiding in the bathroom.” You admitted.

His eyes scanned over you, making a mental note that you wouldn’t look at him and how your kept on rubbing your arm. Suddenly it made sense why you were always sneaking off to the restroom anytime the two of you went out to eat, and how you’d tap your nails and watch for the waiter when it took longer than you expected for the food to come out. “How long have you been hiding this?”

“Since we started dating.”

Jimin’s arms tightened around your waist, the reassuring weight of his head on your shoulder was now gone, and in that split second, your heart stopped. He was moving away, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be with you anymore, he—

Suddenly you were no longer staring at the floor in front of you, but Jimin’s bare chest until his fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look him straight on. His dark brown eyes that usually disappeared when he was smiling and laughing, appeared to be drowning in the tears that slid down his cheeks.

“Why…why wouldn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice light and cracking with every word while his bottom lip trembled. “What if I wasn’t here? You…you could have been on the floor until morning. And if this is how you get when it’s this low, it would have been worse if you waited to get help, or until someone found you.”

His hands were roaming around your back as he spoke, unable to settle down, like he had to constantly reassure himself that you were conscious and talking to him. It was only when he shook his head, a soft coo leaving his lips as he cupped your cheeks to run his fingers underneath your eyes, that you realized that you were crying too.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you had hid this from him. All he could think about was you being alone when this happened. It tore at him the possibility of you ending up in the hospital, or worse, you laying on the ground until you either made your way to a phone, or someone stumbling upon you on accident.

It plagued his heart, making it ache as he tilted his head to gently kiss your forehead. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

It was such a simple reason for why you didn’t, but one that was without a doubt, rooted in your own selfish desire to protect yourself. Most importantly, to protect your heart from having to deal with constantly being let down by the men you let into your life. The idea had sprung out of fear and doubt, but every day that you spent with Jimin was enough to set those thoughts aside.

All the silly dates. The terrifying night where he let you help him dye his hair, the way his fingers traced your body with paths he long since memorized, and an afternoon where the two of you stayed inside while rain pattered against the windows when he suddenly said I love you, were enough to make you realize that Jimin wasn’t going run away.

Your eyes stung and tears slipped faster down your cheeks as you moved to press your forehead against his chest, his arms hugging your tightly. There was nothing for you to grip on to except his body, but you held on to him anyway.

Sensing that this ran deeper than you were ready to admit, Jimin gently kissed your cheek, resting his head against yours as he held you, softly stroking your back. His own back was sore from being hunched over for the last hour or so, and sitting on the floor was starting to leave an ache in his ass, but he was going to stay right there. As long as you needed him, he was going to be there, wherever and whenever you wanted him.

“It’s okay baby,” he said once your tears slowed down in volume. “We’re in this together, I promise.”

Those words had you wanting to cry all over again. For the first time in so long, someone wanted to stay with you, to help you, to love you for you, and that included the fact that you needed to constantly check your blood sugar and take insulin with your meals, and an additional one before bed. It was terrifying, a first, but so freeing at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shakily kissing his chest in an attempt to fix some of the damage your secret has done. “I’m so sorry Jimin.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he kissed your cheek again, his arms tightening just the slightest. Condensation from the ice cream was pooling on the floor and the mini candy bars that he had found were scattered about. Your meter was right beside him. Outside, the birds that had made their homes in the trees near your apartment were singing their sweet lungs out, a noise that usually made both of you want to bury your faces in the pillows. This time, it had Jimin looking towards the bay window and the sheer yellow curtains.

It was still dark out, but within an hour, the night sky would give birth to morning.

Glancing down, he saw that your legs were already wrapped around his waist. With no other reason not to, Jimin carefully stood up, using one arm to pull himself up by the couch and the other keeping a hold on you. He ignored the yelps and questions that left your mouth.

Instead, he settled down on the bay window and stretched his legs out in front of him, only loosening his grip on you when he was certain you wouldn’t slip and fall on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You said, cautiously letting go of Jimin to straighten up. It wasn’t the first time that he ever picked you up without warning, in fact, his habit of doing so was close to becoming normal. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t like a warning in advance occasionally.

He leaned backwards against the window pane, drawing his right leg up until he was able to prop his arm on his knee as he smiled at you. “Have you ever seen the sun rise?”

The question was so random, so opposite of everything that had been happening for the last hour and yet, your mind honed in on it and took advantage of the its simplicity. Shaking your head, Jimin’s smile grew as he tapped his thigh. His own way to gesture for you to turn and rest against his chest that you had learned early on in the relationship.

“The ice cream’s going to melt.”

You turned around however, once again leaning backwards against Jimin’s chest as his free arm encircled your body, pulling you firming in place.

“We’ll take care of that later. We’ll take care of everything later, I promise. Right now, I just want to watch the sun rise, with you.”

“You’re not mad at me?” You suddenly asked, staring at the early morning sky.

The other apartments and houses in the neighborhood were nothing more but shadows for the time being, and you weren’t entirely sure if the living room was facing the east or not. You didn’t tell him that though.

“No baby,” Jimin softly said, staring at the sky as well. “I’m a bit disappointed, and honestly, I’m still a little scared about what happened. But I’m not mad at you.”

Feeling his chest lift with a deep breath, you relaxed in his embrace. This wasn’t the end of the conversation. He deserved a real explanation for why you never told him, and he would get it this time.

As you shifted slightly, Jimin adjusted his arm with your movements, a soft chuckle escaping when you played with some of the silver rings that he had forgotten to take off before going to sleep.

“I love you.”

Your fingers paused, watching his fingers move and lace themselves with yours, calming your heart so it was no longer racing. Any butterflies that had been hanging around in-case there was a to be a second round of sudden doubt finally settled down, allowing you to enjoy this moment with Jimin. Instead of fear, a blanket of content draped itself on top of you.

“I love you too,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss.

Somewhere out there, a bird was returning the melody of another song under the moonlight, and running on only a few hours of sleep wasn’t ideal. While it wasn’t the night that you planned or expected to have, as you waited for the sun to rise, Jimin occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles, there wasn’t anywhere else you wanted to be.

It wasn’t planned, nor was the leading up to it ideal, but it was pretty damn perfect.

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Wings, Pretty Things

AN: Based on this bc I saw it today and I’m trash

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Words: 1662

Read on AO3 here

Bucky doesn’t pay attention to the passage of time anymore. The room they keep him in has large windows, but even the moonlight burns his eyes, so he has no way of knowing whether it’s night or day. He just knows they wake him up several times a day to strap him to a table and pump him full of things that make his entire body burn.

Even so, it’s been awhile since anyone’s been by. They usually had him on a pretty strict schedule. He doesn’t have the energy to look around, to try and fight or escape. He’s never been so tired in his life, but whatever they put into his veins keeps him awake, a deep, simmering pain he can’t shake. He doesn’t know if the screaming that he’s hearing is outside or inside his own head.

Vaguely, he becomes aware that there’s someone in the room with him. He keeps repeating his classification, his number, determined not to forget this most precious information. Well, that and light blue eyes, but he couldn’t forget those, not even in the middle of a war, not even when he left those eyes behind in Brooklyn.

“Bucky?”

The voice stirs something in him, but it can’t be, just another fever dream brought on by the chemicals that ran through his blood. That voice couldn’t be here, that voice was across an ocean, safe, not thinking about him. That voice, which he had heard in his dreams for years, didn’t belong in this place. He had always done whatever it took to protect that voice, it’s carrier. How could it be here?

“Oh my God.”

He feels the straps around him being pulled off, and he tries to focus on his savior. Tall, broad, military gear.

But those eyes. He’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Is that...”

He can’t let himself speak his name, because if this wasn’t true, if this person was someone else...now that might really break him.

“It’s me,” says the man. Bucky tries to focus, sees the nose, which isn’t as crooked, the face, which is lined in worry, the shoulders, which aren’t hunched, holding in a cough, “It’s Steve.��

Bucky doesn’t care that he looks different. He doesn’t care that he looks about seven feet taller and as wide as a truck. He doesn’t care, he just can’t tear his eyes away from him.

“Steve?”

He can feel his lips curl up involuntarily, the first smile he’s had on his face in what feels like years. His eyes, which he had kept closed for so long, were suddenly wide open, drinking Steve in like a man in a desert craves a glass of tall water. He reaches out almost blindly, desperate to make contact with some part of Steve, only to realize Steve’s hands are wrapped almost all the way around his forearms. The difference in his physical appearance is jarring, but his face, his eyes, the soft smile he gives Bucky, that’s all the same. It’s all exactly the same and it feels like someone’s switched the IV in his arm from the chemicals to pure sunshine, filling him to the brim with warmth.

“Come on,” Steve pulls him up, and Bucky takes a second to steady himself, still clinging to the leather of Steve’s jacket, unable and completely unwilling to let go.

“Steve.”

He could say his name a million times, it would never be enough.

Steve looks at him, his brows knitting together in that telltale way when he’s really worried or focused on something, and touches the side of Bucky’s face lightly with the palm of his hand. It takes absolutely everything in Bucky not to sink into the touch and be buried in the feel of it.

“I thought you were dead.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to take him in, and he realizes, with a little jolt, that Steve is taller than him now. Taller, clearly stronger, standing straight up, not with that hunch in his posture from his joint issues. What is he supposed to say when the man he’s known all his life, the man he’s loved for all his life, is so different yet so the same? He goes for the joke, it’s easier than the alternative.

“I thought you were smaller.”

An explosion in the distance pulls Steve’s eyes away from him, but Bucky can’t take his eyes off Steve, still a little afraid that this is all a terrible dream, that he’ll blink and Steve will be gone again, disappeared into the hazy corners of his mind that he could only retreat to when they left him alone to battle with the poison they put in his blood.

“Come on,” Steve pulls him along with ease, supporting almost all of his body weight, while Bucky’s tries to remember how to use his legs. He can’t stop staring at Steve, who’s checking the corners like a real soldier, but Bucky can’t compute that, can’t understand how he’s grown a foot and is supporting his weight like it’s nothing, not when, six months ago, Bucky had spent two weeks checking on Steve every day to make sure the New York winter didn’t kill him with his asthma.

“What happened to you?” he manages, still trying to get his feet under him. Steve doesn’t seem to be bothered by his weight.

“I joined the Army.”

The make it down one hallway until Bucky finally manages to support his own weight. Steve lets him walk on his own, and though he appreciates the gesture of not needing help, he immediately misses the contact with Steve.

Steve walks purposefully in front of him, still checking corners and keeping his eye on Bucky. Bucky has about a million questions, and questions will keep him from falling asleep on his feet.

“Did it hurt?”

“A little.”

So a lot.

Bucky suddenly thinks of what they had been pumping into him for the last month. The whispers he had heard of a super soldier, a new creation, the way to turn the tide in the war. Fear settles in his gut like poison.

“Is this permanent?”

Steve shrugs, looking back at him again.

“So far.”

The make it to the hangar, which is already a torrent of heat and explosions. Bucky has no idea where they’re going, but he would follow Steve anywhere. Even death, if that’s where they were headed.

Bucky loses track of his mind when they come face to face with a man he had only seen in the shadows of the base, a commander of some kind, but one that never stopped to look at him long. All he knows is that Steve throws a punch at the man that would have broken the old Steve’s wrist. He was never much of a fighter, no matter his intentions. A doctor that Bucky recognizes from his time in the green room separates them by splitting the bridge. That was probably a good thing, he reflects, when the man Steve punched peels off his own face to reveal a horrible red skull.

“You don’t have one of those do you?” he asks Steve quietly, unable to handle the world in front of him without humor.

The two leave he and Steve in the middle of the exploding hangar, and it takes Steve only seconds to see their only hope: one last beam that could get them to safety.

“Come on. Let’s go, up,” Steve tries to push him to go up the stairs first, but Bucky sidesteps immediately, thinking of the pact he had made with himself at 13 years old. Steve always goes up the stairs first. It doesn’t matter that he’s different now, Bucky has to look out for him. Always.

Steve insists that Bucky go first, and he can feel immediately that the beam isn’t going to last long. The heat is overwhelming, like it could melt steel, and he just makes it across before the beam collapses, falling into the depths of the fire. Leaving him and Steve separated.

Bucky’s brain immediately clears, not filled with the fog of the pain he’s in, the exhaustion. There’s a problem in front of him, the biggest problem, and he’s going to find a solution, to get Steve to where he was, to get Steve out of here.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something-”

“Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky feels the anger rising in his throat. As if he would ever, ever leave Steve.

“No not without you!”

He seems to understand that his options were get across, or watch them both die. He bends back metal like pipe cleaners, and Bucky is suddenly, viscerally reminded of the crafts his sisters would bring home when they were children. But this was a war, and there’s no art in war.

Steve makes a jump that no one should be able to make, one that you only hear about in stories, and they get off the base with just seconds to spare. Bucky refuses the medical attention offered to him as they start the long trek back to base, instead walking next to Steve, stealing a glance at him every so often, forgetting, more than once, to look up instead of down.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispers to Steve halfway through the night, as the men around them chatter animatedly about showers and good food, eager to get back to a military base where they were soldiers and not prisoners.

“Come on pal,” Steve grips the back of his neck gently in the darkness, where they knew no one could see, “You’d do the same for me.”

You’re right, Bucky thinks, watching Steve step into the role of leader he had always been suited for, in all ways but physical. Now they can see what I always have, he thinks dryly, still unable to tear his eyes away from the blue eyes that would carry across his dreams for the rest of his life.

#my writing #stucky #not spn #mcu #catfa

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 5 years ago

Text

Doll (Bucky x Tall!Reader One-shot)

This is one of my submissions for Cloudy’s 200 follower challenge! So proud of you, girly!!

Pairing: Bucky x Tall!Reader

Dialogue Prompt: High as a Kite (highlighted in bold)

Summary: While Y/N was out on a mission, Bucky accidentally got himself hurt. So what happens when she finds her best friend/crush not nearly as quiet as he usually is?

Warnings: Guys, there’s no angst. This is all fluff.

“Who’s going to tell her?”

“I’m not! It was an accident!”

“Yes, let’s piss off the Amazonian.”

“She’s not an Amazon. She’s just tall.”

“Please, can we focus?”

“I own the building. That means I can call immunity.”

“Honestly, I’d rather be recording this for future blackmail.”

“Well, someone has to tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

Three bodies spun around, shielding the glass window they had been peering into moments before. Y/N watched them curiously. Scott, Bruce, Sam, and Tony were hiding something. She stepped closer to them, brow furrowing when Scott and Bruce instinctively moved in front of the door.

“Okay, what’s going on?” She looked down at Sam, hoping to get some sort of clarity from Bucky’s partner in crime.

“I still think I should be recording.”

“Recording what?” Y/N stepped closer. She didn’t want to admit it, but panic was starting to stir in her chest. She’d been gone on a mission with Steve and had only gotten back a little while ago. Ever since, she’d been looking for Bucky. He’d promised a movie marathon with her and she was coming to collect.

But in three hours – she hadn’t seen or heard from him. At first, she thought she had done something wrong, but now? Seeing four of her five friends hiding outside a med-room? With no clue were her best friend was? She knew it wasn’t her fault. They were hiding something.

She walked up to Bruce, her heeled boots clicking on the floor until she was practically chest to chest with him. Looking down at him, she crossed her arms and immediately began tapping her foot.

Tony cleared his throat, not exactly in the mood to see a hulked-out Banner fighting the Winter Soldier’s crush. He still had people working on repairs from when Bucky ate the last of Hulk’s M&Ms. “Relax, Y/N. The intimidation tactics aren’t going to work.”

She groaned, dropping her hands and looking at the “genius” that felt the need to call her out in this particular moment. “You guys won’t let me know where he is!”

“He’s in there!”

Everyone looked back to Scott. He was still shielding the window from Y/N’s sight, but now he was hiding his face behind his hands. He peeked between his fingers, looking similar to a child in this moment. If she wasn’t so worried about what they were hiding, she’d probably laugh.

Her gaze shifted to the door. She gestured for Scott to step aside. He didn’t even argue. Looking through the glass, she bit her lip. The panic that had been there moments before was gone now, replaced with relief. “What happened?”

“Barnes ate Hulk’s M&M’s. I’m still trying to get the community kitchen fixed up because of it,” Tony explained.

Y/N looked at Bruce, raising an eyebrow. “You hulked out because of M&M’s?”

“I didn’t! The…” Bruce huffed. “The big guy did.”

Y/N turned back to the window and snorted, biting back a laugh.

“She’s finding this amusing. Should we be worried?” Scott looked at Bruce and Tony. Sam simply shrugged. Their usefulness for this had just run out.

“I’m going to check on him. Can you four go find something else to look at?” She didn’t bother sparing them a glance, slipping inside the room and closing the door behind her.

Instead of leaving like Y/N had asked, they crowded in front of the glass. Each of them was desperate to get a good look. “You better hope this works, Stark,” Scott muttered, unable to contain his smile.

“All my creations work, thank you very much. Especially when Banner’s helping me.”

“I’d rather not agree with that statement after Ultron.”

Tony glanced at Bruce and scoffed. “Traitor.”

“Quiet,” Sam ordered, swatting Tony upside the head. “I’m trying to hear!”

-----

Y/N walked towards the bed Bucky was currently laying on. He was hooked to an IV, but she wasn’t sure what medicine they were pumping in his system. Surely it wasn’t too bad, right? If it were, Steve would be here, frantic and worried about what had happened to his best friend. But that wasn’t the case. So, she ran her fingers through his hair, allowing that flutter of crazed nerves to erupt in her chest and stomach. God, she couldn’t help the feelings this man gave her.

She noticed the massive bruise in his hairline. It was swollen. Like he’d been thrown into something a few times. “Hulk really did a number on you, huh?” Her voice was soft, gentle because she didn’t want to wake him up. But this was Bucky after all. Anything could wake him up. He blinked once, twice, before finally moving his head. He groaned, moving to sit up, but Y/N was there to make the movement easier. “Hey, sleepy head.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently someone decided to take Hulk’s peanut butter M&M’s?”

A sheepish grin appeared on Bucky’s face as he ran a hand through his hair. “Oops?”

“That’s all you have to say?” Y/N laughed and shook her head. “Really?”

That sheepish grin of his was shifting. His bright eye watching her with something she didn’t quite understand. But his pupils were blown. The awkwardness of being found out faded away as he started giggling.

Bucky fucking Barnes was giggling.

Bucky laughing was already a rare sight indeed. Almost impossible to see unless you were as close with him as Steve or Y/N was. But giggling? She was sure not even Steve had seen that before.

“Oh my god, what did they give you?”

She laughed as she took a step back, but before she could get too far, Bucky grabbed her hand. He pulled her close, catching her before she could fall. A hand was wrapped around her waist as he watched her intently. “I like holding you like this,” he told her, looking up at her and tilting his head. “I like looking up at you.” Of all the people on the team, Bucky was the only one who ever encouraged her height. In fact, if there were moments where he could look up at her, he did. He enjoyed how tall she was. Her curves and height were a rare sight and it was how she was nicknamed the “Amazon” of the team.

“Buck,” she murmured, laughing and leaning away from him. “You’re high as a kite, aren’t you?”

Bucky pouted at her as she ran her hands through his hair. “I’m being honest. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because they had to have given you something.”

“No,” he drawled, dragging out the word as if it had twenty extra letters. “I’m a super soldier, ‘member?” He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Drugs don’t work on me.”

“No known drugs work on you, Buck. But who knows what cocktail Banner and Stark gave you?”

Another giggle from Bucky and Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling. He was absolutely adorable. Drugged up or not. Silence fell as she continued playing with his hair, earning soft hums from the loveable goofball in her arms. He was so calm. There was no pain or tension anywhere in his face. He was actually…relaxed.

“Why don’t you like me, Y/N?”

She frowned. He’d closed his eyes, tilting his head back as she kept playing with his hair. Had he even realized he’d asked her? “Of course, I like you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned, pouting once again. He leaned forward as his forehead found her shoulder. “No, you don’t. Not like I like you.”

“Not like you like me?” Y/N felt like her heart was ready to burst out of her chest. Did he really admit to liking her? She glanced at the IV. What the hell had Tony and Bruce given him? “What do you mean, Bucky?”

“I like holding you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. His hands wrapped around her waist were now tracing up her back. “I like watching movies and cuddling…”

“I like those things too.”

He whined again, clearly not believing her. She felt like she was talking to a puppy. “Then why do you go on dates? I hate that.” He pouted, his nose nuzzling into her neck. “I hate seeing guys take you out when they don’t deserve you. I want to date you. I want to take you out. I want to kiss you. I want to…I want to…”

“Want to what?”

“I want to show you how important you are, Y/N.”

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now. She had never expected to hear these words out of Bucky and here he was admitting that he felt everything she did. And he wouldn’t even remember it, would he?

“Oh, Buck,” she murmured, hands moving from his hair to his back. “I wish you knew how important you are to me.”

There was a pause as if Bucky wasn’t sure he heard her right. But once a few moments passed, a muffled, “I am?” was asked.

Y/N chuckled and looked down at him. Tilting his head up, she ran her fingers along his cheek. It was gentle, ghost-like. “You are. But I got to tell you that when you aren’t drugged up.” He grinned again. It was sleepy. The poor boy probably needed more rest than they realized. “Get some rest, hm?”

“Stay.” He blinked, slowly. “Please?”

Y/N smiled as she helped him lay back down. He kept a hand securely attached to hers, clearly wanting to keep her at his side. “Buck –“

“Please,” he murmured.

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

He let go of her hand but kept his droopy gaze on her. Bucky was determined to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere. Shrugging off her jacket, she bent down and unzipped her boots. Her gaze shifted to the door to see her four friends giving her wide grins and several thumbs up. “Oh, leave, would you?” she snapped, throwing a boot at the door. They all jumped and ducked away, running off as she shook her head. Those idiots.

Taking off her other boot, she climbed into the bed. It was far too small with his massive frame and her tall, curvy build, but they made do. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him and burying his face in her hair and neck. She lightly played with his hair, the other hand wrapped around him and tracing up and down his spine. It was soothing. Intimate.

“Go to sleep, Bucky.”

“You too, Doll.”

Y/N pressed her lips against his hair, hiding her smile at the nickname. He’d never called her that before. It was always her name or some nickname from it, but never ‘doll’. Until now. She closed her eyes, letting herself fall asleep in his arms.

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

(BONUS)

Bucky woke to the dull remains of a headache and an impossible warmth around him. He didn’t want to open his eyes. That would mean pulling away from the warmth. So instead, he pulled the warmth closer. His arms tightened around it, clinging to it.

Then he heard a soft moan. The exhale of someone’s sigh. And everything came back.

The fight with Hulk…

Bruce and Tony getting him to the med-bay…

Bruce’s countless apologies…

Tony wanting to “take advantage” of the moment with some new medicine they had been working on with Cho…

And Y/N.

He remembered her visiting. He remembered – He remembered everything. Opening his eyes, he realized he was curled into Y/N. His head was resting on her chest, listening to her heart. His arms were wrapped around her, her hands in his hair. Tilting his head up ever so slightly, he smiled when he saw that he was, in fact, still in Y/N’s arms.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he memorized her peaceful features. She liked him. She liked him as much as he liked her. And as excited about it as he was, he wouldn’t dare wake her when she looked like this. Instead, he pressed the smallest kiss to her lips. It could hardly even count as one, he was so scared to wake her. Nuzzling her neck, he closed his eyes once again and simply enjoyed holding her. The giddiness in his chest made it impossible for him to fall back asleep. But he could enjoy this, enjoy holding her. And that was absolutely what he would do.

“I can’t wait to show you how much you mean to me, Doll.”

-----

Tag List:

@crushedbyhyperbole

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x tall!reader #cloudys200hyperbole-crush

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Note

I suggest the song "Where the Shadow Ends" by Banners for your mixtape fic. It's beautiful and melancholic, but also hopeful. It's given me a lot of inspiration for WandaVision fics lately.

Ahh thank you so much for this song!! I totally get what you mean with it being kinda sombre but also hopeful! It’s captured so perfectly in the lyrics too. Sorry it took me a while to get around to this - but better late than never ✨

Track #12: Where The Shadow Ends by BANNERS

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision.

All things considered; Wanda probably shouldn’t have gone to the gym when she did. But Steve had offered to help her with some of the new equipment the compound had ordered in and Wanda knew she pushed herself harder when faced with his superhuman training schedule.

She didn’t feel too bad at the beginning of the work out, going through the motions of warming up. She worked out most days because if she didn’t her body suffered after missions. So, she persisted even when she was tired and her muscles were sore, and apparently, even when it was pouring with rain. She’d quickly regretted her decision to go on a run despite the threatening grey sky. By the time the rain had started Wanda was too far into her run to turn back and had stubbornly refused to call anyone at the compound to come pick her up, instead walking all the way back as her wet shoes started to rub blisters into her heels. Thanks to an hour in sopping wet clothes, battling a harsh wind all the way home she’d woken up with a temperature the past two mornings.

But when she’d checked her temperature a few hours ago it seemed the fever had finally broken, and she was so restless that she didn’t hesitate to accept Steve’s invitation. A mistake she was going to pay for.

The warmup had her feeling a little woozy and lightheaded but not terrible. Things quickly went downhill as she started her usual activities. Just as she picked the dumbbells up to start on her triceps a sudden wave of dizziness hit her full force. Wanda vaguely remembered Steve calling her name as the dumbbells hit the floor with two resounding thuds and she promptly passed out.

Vision was stuck in a research spiral when he distantly heard the Compound AI say his name.

“Currently fetching recent message from Steve Rogers,” the robotic voice said from the speaker in the ceiling and Vision tilted his head as he listened. “Wanda has passed out in the gym, please prepare first aid.”

Vision didn’t give the AI the chance to repeat itself, launching himself out of his seat and phasing through the wall. He was used to quick thinking, easily able to make split second decisions based on a variety of possibilities, but this was something different. He didn’t thinkhe just moved. Within seconds he was phasing through the floors of the compound arriving in the basement with such force that his feet split the tiled floor on impact.

“What happened?” Vision asked with such fervour that he might have reprimanded himself for snapping, were he not so taken aback by the sight of Wanda’s limp body in the Captain’s arms.

“We were ten minutes into our workout and she just dropped to the floor,” Steve explained not hesitating to hand Wanda over to Vision’s waiting arms.

“She has a fever,” Vision said as he gathered Wanda up, holding her close so he could support her head against his chest. She was burning up, her breaths coming in short bursts that concerned him. How had her temperature gotten so high and why hadn’t any of them noticed her getting ill? Most of all, how had he let it slip his attention?

“You get her upstairs while I get a drip.”

They both started up the stairs, Vision trying not to jostle his unconscious cargo, too concerned to try phasing, even if the stairs were frustratingly slower. They parted ways at the ground floor as Steve hurried to the med bay and Vision continued to Wanda’s bedroom.

He kicked her door open with his foot and brought her over to the bed. As he set her down atop the navy covers, lifting her up to slip another pillow under her head, Vision wondered if it might have been better to just take her straight to the infirmary, or better yet, the hospital. But Wanda was notoriously unpredictable when it came to waking up in unfamiliar environments and had taken out a wall the last time she had passed out and woken up in the infirmary. Her own space was better, for now. Vision brushed her hair off her sweating forehead and Wanda groaned softly, shivering in her feverish state and reaching for the bed covers.

“No, no,” Vision murmured pulling Wanda’s hands away as she attempted to pull her covers up over her. She might be feeling cold, but Vision estimated her temperature was nearing 39C. While he waited for Cap to return with the drip Vision hurried to and from the kitchen and her bedroom, carrying with him a bowl of water and a cloth. Distracted, he managed to spill about a quarter of it along the hallway. He was just laying the cloth gently atop her forehead when Steve arrived in the doorway, IV equipment in hand.

“How did she get this fever?” Vision asked as Steve set down the mobile frame and hung the bag of liquid from the top. It was rare for illness to travel around the compound when so many of them were unable to fall sick, though there were far more serious conditions that could cause fever.

“She got caught in the rain on Wednesday, must have caught a cold from that,” Steve replied connecting the tubing and handing the other end to Vision as he prepared the needle. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t tell me,” Vision murmured, stoutly ignoring the little part of him that disliked Steve knowing something about her that he didn’t. He instead focused on finishing the IV, taking a little bit of tape from the first aid kit to secure the tubing to Wanda’s bare arm.

It wasn’t really a surprise that he hadn’t known of her rainy run. In the last week Vision had barely seen Wanda, something he found absurd because he lived just down the hall from the room they were currently in. And, well, the rest of the team often described them as being ‘attached at the hip’. Unfortunately, it seemed Wanda was excellent at making herself scarce when Vision tried to be near her these days. She was clearly trying to set a boundary, which Vision would understandably accept, if only he could understand what it was for. There had been no big change between them that he could identify, if anything they’d been getting closer, but it was as though she’d decided she didn’t like spending time with him anymore.

“I should have told her to go easy with the exercise,” Steve said, more to himself than anything, but Vision silently agreed.

Vision sighed quietly and perched himself next to the unconscious Wanda, removing the cloth from her head and submerging it in the basin once more. “She needs to look after herself,” he murmured, “or at least let someone else help her.” Vision avoided meeting Steve’s eyes following this admission, knowing that behind thissomeone else meant himself.

He wrung the cloth out and returned it to her scorching skin, delicately wiping at her cheeks and neck. Though she seemed more peaceful now and her breathing more regular, he was still on edge. Hopefully the fluids would start to do their job and her temperature would come down, but if this continued through the night, he’d call a doctor.

“And are you alright?” Steve asked, he’d retreated to the wall and was leaning against it now with his arms folded. “You were fairly shaken up down there.”

“Yes,” Vision replied quietly, not wanting to speak too loudly lest they wake her up before her body was ready. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “And everything is alright between you two, other than this? It’s like she runs out of the room whenever she sees you these days.”

“I do not know if everything is alright, I thought things were maybe changing between us, but then she began avoiding me,” Vision sighed, tucking Wanda’s hair back from her face. As he did so she stirred slightly, her head tilting into his touch. She mumbled something incoherent.

“She’s been through a lot. A connection like the one you two seem to have,” Steve cleared his throat, “uh this intimacy I suppose, could be scary and unfamiliar. I could be wrong, of course, I’m just speaking to what I’ve seen in the last few months.”

Vision didn’t reply and continued wiping at her forehead. He often spent more time watching than talking, he spoke when it was of value and only with Wanda did he find himself speaking freely. To have Steve identify this insight about their relationship made him realise that he wasn’t the only one monitoring the interpersonal connections of his teammates.

When he didn’t reply Steve pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up, and you know what they say about chicken soup and the flu. I’ll go to the store.”

“Good idea,” Vision said absentmindedly.

He sat with Wanda quietly for another half hour, replacing the basin of water once and continuing to cool her forehead down. At one point he had to stand to put the blinds down as the late afternoon sun started to hit the side of the compound and streamed through her windows, casting them in a golden light. Otherwise, he was simply content to sit by her side for the first time in a week without her scurrying out of the room or pretending like he wasn’t here.

He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Wanda’s shelves and the growing collection of items she’d collected on their travels to personalise her room. A snow globe from Atlanta, a framed picture of the team from their first big mission together, a newspaper clipping, one of the few that spoke kindly of her.

“Was I wrong,” he murmured to the air, “to think we were becoming something more?”

“Vis?” Came Wanda’s quiet voice and Vision was surprised to feel her fingers brushing his knee. He turned to her to see she was blinking blearily up at him.

“You’re ok,” Vision assured her instinctively, moving closer to lift the cloth from her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” she muttered thickly. “Can I have some water?”

“Just a moment.” Vision stood and sped out the room and to the kitchen where he hurriedly filled up a glass and was back at her side in seconds. She managed a soft smile when he reappeared, the first smile he’d seen in a week, which almost had him stumbling as he returned.

He offered his hand to steady her as she sat up a little and took the water from him. When she leant back once more, her eyes were on him darting about his face and he quickly schooled his expression to be free of the worry nagging his heart.

“Is there anything else you need?” Vision asked.

“No,” Wanda sighed sleepily, “just rest I think.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Vision nearly kicked himself for saying what he feared out loud, for providing such an easy opportunity to let her push him away again.

“No.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

In silent response Wanda turned her head away from him and bit her lip.

“You’re ill and tired, we shouldn’t have this conversation right now,” Vision said, aware of the fact that he was buying time for himself before she could give him the answer he feared.

“Please don’t be angry,” Wanda said and then so quietly, Vision thought he had imagined it, “it’s for the best.”

He’d been ready to stand and leave the room but at this took one of her hands in his, squeezing it in what he hoped she took as reassurance. “I am not angry at you, I could never be angry at you. I am worried.”

“But I’ve been avoiding you without explanation,” Wanda huffed raising her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Well, I suppose there is that,” Vision relented, “but please know I would never be angry at you for wanting space, I admit I was hurt but if you could explain things to me, if there’s anything I’ve done that you haven’t liked—”

Wanda laughed, or it sounded like something close to a laugh, coarse and cynical more than anything. Vision stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands. Distantly, he registered the sound of the front door opening and closing – Steve was back just in time.

“I should go,” Vision said sadly, standing up to leave, “Steve will bring you some soup.”

“Wait no,” Wanda said sitting up and her hands flying out for him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

He could tell she wasn’t lying and slowly let her pull him back down to the bed. Wanda slowly leant against the pillows once more, this moment of exertion had evidently taken it out of her. She closed her eyes even as her hands remained tight on his arm. “The fact that you think you could ever do something I don’t like, is ironic, that’s why I laughed.”

“Ironic?” Vision asked.

Wanda sighed quietly and moved her hands from his arm to his hands, holding them tightly as though prepared to stop him from walking out again. “You want me to spell it out, huh?”

He said nothing.

“I owe you an explanation I suppose,” Wanda said and despite how peaky the sickness was making her look, her cheeks gained a little more colour as she spoke. “You’ve been too good to me, the best part of my days is when I’m with you, I pulled away to see if what I was feeling was real. I thought if I could go a little bit without you then maybe what I was feeling wasn’t that serious,” she jerked her chin to the IV stand next to her, “but my assumptions were correct.”

“So,” Vision began raising his eyes to meet her unwavering gaze, “what you’re saying is…”

“I’m falling for you and I’m scared about what that means for us,” she said and took a deep breath, “and of losing you.”

“You cannot lose me if you don’t have me,” Vision replied, “and perhaps youcan put aside your feelings. I, however, cannot.” It was true, if this week had taught him anything it was that he needed her in his life, by his side and if she let him, as something more.

Wanda’s eyes shone happily for a moment before she seemed to reign herself in. “I thought I could stop how I’m feeling,” she murmured, “I thought it was for the best, I thought I could protect myself.”

“We could protect each other.”

“Until one of us isn’t there,” Wanda said cynically, “I know this isn’t the kind of job we get to retire from.”

“Is that not more reason to pursue this, while we can?” Vision asked leaning closer.

Wanda didn’t have an answer to this, and Vision felt as though he had said enough for her to think about. He stood up, keeping a hold of her hands for as long as he could before he was forced to let go, stepping away.

“I will go and see if your soup is ready.”

Steve sat with Wanda while she ate the soup, her mind doing backflips over her conversation with Vision.

She wasn’t expecting Steve to be so forthright with his questioning, but he asked her as soon as she finished eating. “Have you fixed things between you and Vision?”

Wanda tried not to let her mouth hang open in surprise. “Not yet,” she muttered letting her spoon drop against the bowl and pushing it towards him.

“I’ve never seen him scared before today, you really gave him a fright.”

Wanda didn’t reply, letting the information sit with her even as the guilt began to fester.

“I don’t say that to make you feel bad,” Steve said, as though reading her mind, “I’m telling you so you know how much he cares about you. I mean he’s a synthezoid, Wanda, we used to worry he wouldn’t feel things and now the problem is him feeling too much? Do you not feel the same?”

Wanda stealthily avoided this question, she hadn’t even confessed the full extent of her emotions to Vis, she wasn’t about to let Steve in on her closely guarded heart just yet. No matter how much his counsel usually helped her. “I just feel this great wave of darkness waiting just beyond our horizon,” she said quietly, afraid to admit the brewing shadows she’d been feeling for months now. “Like something big is on the way, something we can’t stop.”

Steve’s brows furrowed at this, but he persisted. “Wanda, you of all people know how much your own mind can be your biggest enemy,” he said, “so is that really reason enough to ignore the light? Avoiding sad emotions doesn’t necessarily make us feel happy, so what makes you think running from happiness will stop you ever being sad?”

When she was still quiet, he pushed further. “You’ve had more darkness in your life than anyone should, but here’s an opportunity to add a bit of light to those shadows, are you really going to say no?”

She opened her mouth to answer but this time didn’t have the opportunity as Vision phased through the wall, pausing when he saw he’d caught the pair deep in conversation.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quickly, but Cap was standing up, taking the empty soup bowl with him.

“It’s ok, I was just leaving.”

Vision pressed his hands together as he walked around her bed hesitantly, keeping his distance. “I wanted to check in on you before bed, are you feeling better?”

“Much better,” Wanda said, but she still felt a little feverish and like she might need to sleep for a week.

“I am glad to hear that,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck, “if you need anything in the night I’m just down the hall.”

“Can’t you stay?” Wanda blurted out before she could lose her nerve again. “Please?”

“If that would help,” Vision replied, and Wanda swore he turned away to hide a smile. When he looked back at her she patted the bed, gesturing for him to join her.

He was careful not to jostle her as he laid down, and Wanda openly admired his grace even as he shyly avoided her gaze.

“I admit I probably wouldn’t have slept tonight; I’d just keep coming in to check your temperature,” Vision conceded as he lay his head against the pillow and Wanda turned to face him. Then, more hesitantly, “Please don’t push me away without warning again.”

“I promise,” she replied without hesitation. “Perhaps I wasn’t sick because of the rain, maybe it was more complicated, like my heart giving up a little when I stubbornly tried not to listen to it.”

Vision chuckled. “I think the rain definitely didn’t help, but your heart makes a good point.”

Wanda smiled tugging the pillow further under her head and placing a hand under her cheek. She scrunched her nose at Vision, unable to stop smiling and extended her hand in invitation. He accepted, bringing one of his own hands up and intertwining their fingers, kissing the back of her hand tenderly.

“And have you decided to listen to your heart?” He murmured, kissing her hand to punctuate the question.

“I have a very stubborn heart,” she relented, “I couldn’t ignore it even if I tried.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vision said smiling at her and shuffling closer.

Wanda pushed back against his chest and Vision immediately halted. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll get sick.”

Vision laughed. “Wanda, dear, I am a synthezoid, you couldn’t pass your illness onto me even if you wanted to.”

Wanda tilted her chin up at the challenge. “Well in that case.” She pulled him close and pressed her mouth to his as she’d wanted to hundreds of times. As though in celebration, the lights flickered out and the door slammed shut, submerging them in darkness that had Wanda laughing in embarrassment at her magic’s overreaction. Now cast in shadow, the only light was the soft glow of the mind stone atop Vision’s head, and the faint gleam of his eyes in the night. She used them as guidance to kiss him again, and again, and again. Finding no reason to stop until she felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back a little so that their noses were still brushing and the breath between them was shared. She was done with running from this, not quite sure how they had ever been able to hold themselves back from each other.

#wandavision #scarletvision #Wandavision fanfiction #wanda maximoff #scarletwitch #wanda x vision #concerned vision is a sweetheart #wanda feels too much #and fears too much lol #visionsofusfics

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goodnightyoongi · 5 years ago

Text

Yoongi x fem!reader pt1

genre: hurt/comfort

rating: gen

word count: 2,8k

summary: you’ve been feeling down, and you’re choosing to isolate yourself because of it. You’ve almost forgotten all about Yoongi, but he hasn’t forgotten about you

warnings: implied depression

Part II: Flicker

Part III: Rise

Part IV: Release

You stared at the ceiling, vacantly counting the cracks in it. It was a good distraction, it kept you busy. One, two, three, four. You knew you probably should attempt to crawl out of bed for a few hours at least, but you were uncertain if you would even manage that much today.

It was one of those days. Those when you could detect a grey, looming cloud hovering over your head the moment your eyes fluttered open.

The sheets in your bed were unwashed, uncomfortably crumpled and sticky against your clammy back. Your t-shirt was bunched up around your midsection, straining against your ribs, but you didn’t even have enough energy to switch positions to smooth it out. Brushing teeth, showering, having breakfast, all things you should do right now, but the mere thought of even swinging one leg out to attempt standing caused a lump to form in your throat. Hard, it was much too hard.

When had it gotten to this?

It had crept up on you, a shadow lurking just behind you at first, but now it had devoured you whole. At the moment it acted like a crushing weight on top of you, effectively pushing you down into the mattress.

Your elbow was nicely cool when you lifted it to rest against your face, shielding you from everything, even though there was nothing to hide from here. But the unshed tears biding their time behind your eyelids, they were released, one by one, as you reflected over your situation and the impossibility of it. If only you had the strength to pick yourself up.

Maybe tomorrow?

A blissful sleep had almost grabbed you again when you zapped awake to a noise coming from the other end of your apartment. You attempted to rouse yourself and untangle your mind enough to figure out what the hell the sound even was. You pushed yourself into sitting, thoughts hazy but once you heard it again you realized what it was.

Doorbell. You weren’t expecting anyone.

"Y/N? Open up please."

The low-pitched, raspy timbre was easily recognizable. It usually filled your chest with warm cotton candy, but right now it was atypically sharp when calling you.

Your legs barely carried as you shot out of bed, stumbling in the direction of the front door. You stopped just in front of it, holding your breath.

Maybe you should pretend not to be home.

No. It's Yoongi. You and Yoongi knew each other since you were kids.

A distant memory featuring mini versions of the two of you playing hopscotch together suddenly appeared inside your brain – and it was enough to lure a faint smile onto your lips.

You had cried like a baby when you fell, grazing your knee. The other boys laughed at you, but Yoongi didn't. Yoongi offered you a band-aid, a colorful one with Spider-Man on it.

It had been ages since you two had last seen each other.

A determined voice reminded you of that, but just as your hand made for the door you happened to catch a glimpse of yourself in the hallway mirror, and you froze.

Surely that couldn't be you?

You hadn't looked yourself in a mirror for so long, and surely they didn’t belong to you, those greasy strands, those cracked lips. Surely not.

But they did.

“Y/N! Please, open the door. I can hear you moving around.”

You couldn’t let Yoongi see you like this. It was such an insane contrast to last time you met.

You squinted, trying to recall it. It felt like a totally different you. One that wore a nice outfit matched with a neat, pink smile. One that served Yoongi cappuccino in your best italian cups while the aforementioned chatted about how much he wasn’t looking forward to touring.

And you had reassured him, promising to keep in touch, promising to work hard on your exams while Yoongi was away.

But you’d kept neither promise.

That was months ago, and now you were a far cry from that radiant and flowery-cheeked hostess. You quickly grabbed a tinted chapstick from the hallway table to force some color onto your lips, softening them up, but your face remained ghastly pale. This was the best you could do, though, there was no time.

“Y/N! For the love of god, open the door. I’m calling the cops soon, I'm serious. Or I can knock it off the hinges, that works too," came Yoongi's crabby voice. His patience was clearly running thin, and you knew him well enough to realize it wasn't just an empty threat.

"Jesus," you muttered to yourself. You hurried to unlock it, slapping on your most artificially sweet smile and an equally fake-sounding, chirpy voice as you pushed it open.

“Hey Yoongi! I’m so sorry it took me so long, I was…busy. Was cleaning and didn’t hear you.”

You expected him to crack into a smile and greet you, but his face remained blank for a couple seconds, as if he saw a ghost. You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, hand trailing vacantly along the door frame.

“Yoongi…?”

“Why haven’t you answered my calls or texts?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and accusatory. Your phone lay buried somewhere under piles of clothes and other clutter, and you hadn’t spared it a single thought for days. You figured it was best that way, because your answers were becoming gradually shorter, less enthusiastic, until typing a single letter felt like too much effort. It had been the right thing to do, you shouldn’t bother him with your foul mood while he was stressed on tour. You lowered your gaze to his sneakers, forcing yourself to think of justifications nonetheless.

“Um…firstly I thought you were still on tour, and…”

“Y/N…tour ended weeks ago,” he reminded you softly, tilting his head to study you with curious eyes. You couldn’t get a word out. Weeks? You really had lost track of time completely. Your arm fell limply to your side and Yoongi took the opportunity to slip past you, swiftly removing his coat and chucking it to the side before fixing dark eyes on you again.

“And that doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you answer when I called or texted? I thought something had happened to you…I was so damn worried.”

You were overwhelmed with the onslaught of questions, the hurt expression on his face, and to be honest you couldn’t think of a satisfactory answer. You managed to shake your head and provide a mumbled “I’ve been busy and just not remembered to check my phone, I’m sorry,” but Yoongi didn’t seem calmed at all.

“We said we’d meet up once I was back home again…but I’ve been unable to reach you. I thought I’d done something wrong or that you were tired of me.”

He forced a sad smile, a clear attempt to conceal the desolation bleeding into his voice. You witnessed it with a heavy heart, feeling remorse at being the culprit for it.

“No! No, not at all…that’s the farthest from the truth you can even…” you quitened, trying desperately to come up with some way of saving the situation, but your mind pushed you into dangerous territory, and the words just poured out of you before you could stop yourself. “…I’ve missed you, Yoongi, I have, but um…I’ve been so busy with my classes and schoolwork that I basically haven't had time for anything else and…yeah, but…it’s nothing you did at all. Now is just not a good time, so maybe we could just meet later in the week? Go for ice-cream or something? What do you say?”

You finished your rambling with the smallest of smiles, but it felt as artificial to you as it probably looked to Yoongi. You could only hope that he’d settle for this, to agree to meet up with you later, when you weren’t falling apart. You'd be better then, hopefully by then you would have cleaned up your act, managed to pick yourself up and be a friend...or whatever it is you were...to him again.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeated, like a drone, wishing he’d just accept it and turn to leave, but the opposite happened. He gave you a look you couldn’t decode before stepping further into your apartment, scanning over the piles of clothes and half-drunken mugs of tea scattered everywhere.

“Busy with classes huh,” he parroted back at you, running a hand through the black locks and exposing his forehead. Right now it was settled in a deep frown, and you nodded hesitantly. “Okay. That’s interesting because I texted one of your friends when you didn’t answer, to ask if she knew anything about where you were.”

Your mouth was stuck ajar, and Yoongi surveyed you with skeptical, narrowed eyes. You wanted to just sink right through the ground and disappear, right now.

“Uh…did you…really…” you managed, voice small and close to breaking. Yoongi gave a downhearted sigh, eyes signaling clear disappointment.

“Yeah. She said she didn’t. She also said that you haven’t gone to class for weeks.”

There was a long silence. Your eyes were glued to the floor while you did your best to try to control your breathing, keep it nice and even, and figure out something to say, anything. Yoongi took a step closer to you, bringing with him the warmth, the solace you didn’t feel you deserved right now.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I don’t know,” you wheezed, honestly. Because it came naturally to you, to pretend everything was okay, so naturally you were prepared to tangle yourself into a web of lies because of it. Now the opposite had happened, and you had broken his trust him further.

“Can you go please,” you choked, hating that you had to ask. But the tears, they burnt behind your eyelids and you couldn’t let yourself appear so weak, not in front of Yoongi.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes…no…but… I’m sorry… please, just…I can’t deal with this right now.” You knew it didn’t sound logical at all, but you were panicking at the thought of him seeing you unravel, he couldn’t. “Please go,” you begged, louder and more urgently. It bounced off the walls of the living room, but Yoongi didn’t move a limb to accommodate your request.

“I have a feeling I shouldn’t,” he pondered, inching closer to you. Your hands were all over your face, kneading your cheeks in an attempt to hide from his gaze, because you were sure it was scrutinizing, you couldn’t see it was filled with nothing but concern.

“Stop it … you’re hurting yourself,” he murmured, restraining you carefully. His hands, delicate, but strong, closed around your wrists, pulling them down. You had nothing to cover yourself with, and you felt exposed.. Your eyes were stubbornly resting on his chest, on the letters supreme written across his black t-shirt, and there they remained as you uttered the next words with indifference.

“I’m fine and yes you should leave. I’m just not feeling my best today. We’ll meet up some other day.”

“Y/N…” your wrists were released, and a finger positioned underneath your chin gently pressured you to look up. “…this isn’t fine, okay. Look at you, look at this place. When was the last time you showered? Ate? What is going on with you? You look absolutely -”

“Absolutely horrible, yes I know, no need to point that out!” you finished the sentence for him, your sudden shriek jarring him and turning his features from worried to frowning.

“No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I was going to say absolutely spent, okay? You always look beautiful, but you also look…exhausted, to be frank, so won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“You should go. I’m a mess, and you can’t help me. I don’t deserve it,” you informed him impassively, not caring about how irrational you sounded, because your senses were telling you to push him away. You had backed off without even realizing it but now you bumped into the bathroom door, exhaling heavily as he followed you, slowly as if approaching a startled animal.

“What are you even talking about, Y/N? Of course you deserve it… I don’t know what’s going on but… whatever it is, I can help you. I want to help. Okay?”

“No, Yoongi. Just leave.”

“I’m not going to leave-”

“Yes, because I’m fine!”

Your own voice pierced your ear as the sentence escaped you, much more shrill than you had planned. Hot, fat tears instantly pooled in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. They started streaming down your cheeks the second after, when you witnessed Yoongi’s expression in front of you, shocked and pained through the thin curtain of water.

“Oh god, I’m sorry…” your voice didn’t carry your words anymore, cracking as amplifying sobs racked your body. The weight of the entire world crushed you, but tender hands were there as well, preventing you when you attempted to scratch at your cheeks in frustration.

“Stop, calm down… it’s okay, honey. Don’t hide from me.”

“It’s not okay…nothing is okay…and I don’t want you to see me like this,” you pleaded, doing your best to wipe the snot off your nose with the palm of your hand, but it didn’t help much and only made you keen louder. “…I can’t even…take care of myself, let alone anything else…”

Yoongi shushed you, using his calming, dulcet tones, but you pressed yourself against the door, sobbing, wailing uncontrollably, and soon he took matters into his own hands. Your thighs were grabbed, gently, your lower body hoisted up like you were a koala on his hip.

“Put your arms around my neck…uhuh, that’s it.”

You stuttered some half-hearted protests as you clung to him, but he released you before you could wiggle free, lowering you down and flanking you on the couch. You immediately attempted to escape to the far corner of it, but nimble arms found you, snaking their way around your waist and shoulders and hauling you in again.

“Schhh. You have to calm down, hear me? Calm down. You've known me for years, Y/N, don't have to be scared of me. Don’t have to be scared. Just tell me what’s wrong, please. Can you do that?"

“That’s the thing…I don’t even know what’s wrong…I just feel like… everything is so difficult. Even getting out of bed...it's hard... and...it feels like...there's no point,” you sniffled, scared of your own words. You turned to him for comfort, finally allowing yourself to burrow into his chest, feeling it rise and fall underneath your heated cheek as you inhaled the familiar scent of his t-shirt.

“It’s okay. These things can creep up on you slowly, sweetie,” Yoongi’s voice cascaded down on you from above, his fingers vacantly stroking down the side of your arm. "But if you were struggling…you should have told me…I hate knowing you’ve been here all by yourself feeling like this. You don’t have to go through it alone, I’m always here for you.”

You soaked up his assuring words, reveling in his touch, his broad shoulders wrapped all around you. You still felt scared, ashamed, but a chunk of it was washed away with the help of the familiar caress, the soothing timbre of his voice, promising you that things might be okay.

“I’m sorry I ignored you,” you lamented, feeling the regret bubbling in your stomach again and escaping in yet another outpouring of tears.

“This won’t do,” Yoongi sighed melancholically, briefly leaving the couch, and you instantly felt empty, cold without him. He was back in the matter of seconds, bringing with him a stack of tissues he used to gently dab all over your face. Once he was done he cupped your cheek, stroking over your jawline with his thumb and smiling comfortingly at you. “That’s better. Not drowning in your own tears now.”

“This is all my fault…” you mumbled, leaning into his touch and averting your eyes, because you couldn’t look into his sympathetic ones, witness that adoring smile when you had wronged him so. “I didn’t even reply to you…I didn’t want to burden you with my issues and…I didn’t realize it only made it worse. I’m sorry-”

“No, schhh,” he interjected, grabbing your thighs and settling them across his lap. You let it happen, nuzzling into his neck when he sneaked his arms around your torso, pressing you against him as tightly as he could manage. “No need to be sorry, I understand it’s hard. But I’ve missed you so much, pretty baby, I was so worried about you.”

He breathed into your hair, gentle tones coated with sadness. “And if I knew this was going on with you…I would have come sooner.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on, though, Yoongi,” you confessed, feeling defeated, but his steady hands anchoring you and keeping you safe caused your chest to sprout with a tiny seed of hope. Maybe it all could be alright, just maybe.

“I know. I know baby. But things will get better, you’ll see, we’ll figure it out. I’ll help you, don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

#bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #min yoongi #bts suga #bts reader insert #yoongi scenarios #bts au

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

the harlot - iv

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, angst, fluff, smut,

word count: 2.8k

description: harlots inspired au;

one last run before shipping off steve rogers is brought to a brothel to love a woman in case of his untimely demise at war. he meets the reader, young and fresh, not yet tainted by the world they’d been born into. a torrid one night love affair that costs their mother greatly. a promise and years later they meet again, the reader resentful and distrustful. the charming, now captain rogers, seems as captivated in reader as ever. but it’s never meant to be. and you both know that.

His jaw was more defined. His brows fuller. Hair longer than you could remember it being. His eyes were almost dark in this lighting. Not their usual blue, but something more serious and hardened. His bottom lip was just as pink and full as before, you vaguely remember how it felt between your teeth. It was silent. Tea growing cold between you as the question hung in the air.

He swallowed, taking a sip of his tea. The sound of the cup hitting the saucer before he started, “I wasn’t lying to you.”

“But you omitted facts.” You cross your arms, “You withheld information.” He shakes his head,

“When was I supposed to tell you?” He reasons, “We had one night, I wasn’t too keen on explaining my family history.” No, he’d been far more concerned with making up for his shortcomings, having you writhe on this tongue before he hardened again. And you met twice more that night. Whispers of dreams that could never be shared between you, and a stupid promise that should have never been made.

“So explain.” He leans forward resting his arms on the table, eyes scanning the wood and he says,

“Where to start?” He shakes his head, eyes meeting yours from beneath his lashes, “My parents…”

They’re Sara and Joseph Rogers. Old money from being a staunchly military family. He shrugs, “Every member of my family has fought for the British Military.” But not so much lately. They were full of Barons and Marquess. “I’m to take the title of Lord soon.” He was going to sit in the House of Peers and with his familial status and his own Lordship…

“You’d control half of Britain.” You sit back against your chair, still fingering the piece of cheese, thinking.

“And my family the other half.” They were steps away from the palace. “And when my father dies…” He would be less than fifteen seats from the throne itself.

“So Pierce…” He shrugs,

“Wants to get in my good graces so that when it happens…”

“You’ll let him keep doing his villainous deeds, he would have a greater barrier of protection.” Steve nods.

Politics were a mess of titles and owned land. Who has the bigger property? Who has the more lavish surroundings? Who can spread their coin around? And if the gold fastenings on his shirt were anything to go by, the foregone wig and the cleanliness of him, he could do whatever he wants. Even have Brock murdered tonight, without anyone batting an eyelash.

“I don’t want to leave you here.” He admits honestly. His hand reaches across the table to still yours. “I said I would come back to you and I did.” Warm and calloused. It gave you a small bit of comfort.

“We were children.” You could feel it bubbling in your chest. The emotion. You weren’t going to cry. “We didn’t know what promise we were making.”

“I knew.” His hand tightened slightly on yours. “Y/N…” You pull away. “The only reason I didn’t come back for you more quickly was for my term at war… I’ve been working—”

“For what?” You tug on your teeth out of nerves, “It’s been almost ten years, Steve.” He sighs and looks at you with reverence.

“I was working… to first free the Americans.” Against his King’s army. “They deserved their freedom, and everyone knows it.” He softly grabs your hand again, “After that I joined a group…” Shaking his head, “I had to build these foundations before I came for you again.” He looked hopeful almost, wanting. His tongue comes and wets his bottom lip.

“Even if you did take me from here, what am I to be?” A harsh laugh, “You’ll marry.” The corners of his mouth twitched but did not give into a frown. “You’ll marry and you’ll have children and a legacy… and I will just be your whore to visit and buy pretty jewels for.” You pull away from him, scooting your chair back and standing from the table, scrubbing your face with your hands, you turn from him.

“I don’t want anyone but you.” He claims. You scoff, turning to look at him. And in the shadows of his face you can see that boy now.

“Then you obviously haven’t grown as much as I thought.” You shake your head, the tears betraying you by slipping down your cheeks, “You need to marry, and you can not marry a whore.” He steps from the table, rounding it to meet you, softly grabbing your hands which still frame your face and taking them in his own.

“Y/N…” His lips meeting your right wrist and then your left. “I can do whatever I want.” You roll your eyes,

“And be ruined for it.” He takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours and his forehead meets yours and he’s close, so close.

“Y/N…” His mouth meets yours and you’re unable to say no. You’re unable to do anything but melt against him. His arm wraps around your waist and pulls you harder against him as you part and meet again. Your hand gripping his bicep as your ass meets the hard edge of the table. He parts from you with heavy breath on your lips, those pink lips now red and flushed. “I would gladly be ruined if it meant I were to spend the rest of my life next to you.”

A gasp of a pant as his hands cradle your face, his cheeks flushed against his pale skin. You tremble under his gaze.

“There’s just one thing we need to do first.” He presses his lips to yours again, “And I need you to trust me.” His thumb brushing against your bottom lip before bringing you back to him in a slow and savory way, “I will never let anything bad happen to you again.”

“You can’t promise that.” His thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he presses his hips against yours. You can feel that hard familiar length of him. Your knees locking him in against you as you relish in that old feeling.

Maybe this was a mistake. How could you have let him get so close so quickly? You gave in at the press of his lips. The feeling it bred in your body like a drug you couldn’t help but find yourself addicted to. The memory pales against the real thing. The way it makes your skin shiver and your fingers tremble where they lay on his arms. He could tell you to do anything right now and you’d do exactly as he asked. A dangerous thing when it comes to your profession.

Those years of building up a guard and becoming objective and distanced. You couldn’t care less if Pierce wanted another whore for the night, something he did occasionally, or if he found his way to you. You didn’t care to be left alone for days on end in this big house with only books and a morning and evening stroll to take your time. But in this moment, you feel like you might die if he left you.

You might die if he were to let you go.

He meets your lips again, tongue brushing yours, a steady joining and parting. Soft and wet.

“I need you to help me bury Pierce.” His touch so warm and comforting, “Help me take him down and then,” A press of his forehead against yours, “And then I’ll take you to the country estate, just like I promised.”

“Is that all you want from me?” He shakes his head,

“I want everything that has to do with you.” His thumb soft across your cheek, “We need to secure your money first, everything you’re owed.” You whimper against him as his hips press further into yours, “And then you can help me take this bastard down.” A press of his lips to your throat, to where the neckline of your nightdress met your skin. And your heart raced as he pressed his mouth to the bruises on your skin. His hands gentle against your tender flesh as he sunk to his knees before you. “You had bewitched me the moment I saw you,” A gentle kiss to the skin of your thigh, “I would do anything for you.” His hands pressing your thighs further apart to settle his head between them. “Anything.”

He laid a plan out between your thighs, hand gripping your hips steady on his face as his tongue worked you to falling apart. Your fingers twisted in his hair as he let you benefit from the friction on your sex. Nipples hard beneath your shift, arching up against him in gasps and moans as he brought you to a trembling end. Mouth and tongue pressing sloppily against your thighs and hips.

“When Pierce returns,” A whisper against your lips, “We will begin.”

With him gone and the house empty you grew clearer. Less foggy and drunk with his presence. But he said Brock wouldn’t be back for the rest of the night, right?

You powder makeup on in the mirror, covering up the bruises best you could. Maybe you could risk going to see your Ma.

The single opportunity presented itself and you would be a fool not to take it. And your Ma would know what to do. She’d be able to clear your head about this.

You did what you could to hide Brock’s handiwork, but your Ma was sure to spot a mark or two. The trepidation in that was drowned by the excitement to see your Pa and Peter again. Your steps quick and heart beginning to flutter as the prim and proper clean homes turned into the thick dark wood and the volume of the town louder than the sleepy homes you’d just left behind.

Drunks in the street and a loud row in a pub, passed by as you continued to your destination. The vibrant noise and the sounds of people stuffed in alleys sampling the wares on the streets.

You saw your Pa first. His hair greyer than you remember. Chatting outside with a man you didn’t recognize, just outside of the house you’d grown up in. He must have felt you coming. His eyes drifting over to you and smile splits his lips. The emotions you’d felt all day spilling over onto your cheeks as you run into his open arms.

A hug tight enough to squeeze the breath from you. It pushes out a sob. His hand on the back of your head as he held you to him and you felt like a child again. Scared of a storm. Weeping into his shoulder as he soothes the cracks of thunder that woke you from your bed.

“My sweet girl.” He pulls back to look at your face and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so.” His hand firm in yours, “Come.” A tip of his head to the man he was talking to before your approach and he brought you into the house. The noise of creaking beds drowned out by the twinkle of keys at the piano you’d not touched in years. Your Ma was found in the parlor. And your eyes immediately went to the tall boy behind the piano. Peter.

Your heart lept in your chest as he ran to you, wrapping you in his arms. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Happy and eager.

“I was left alone for a night,” You smile at him, looking over his shoulder at your Ma. “I have until morning.” You laugh, stepping back from Peter. “You weren’t lying Ma,” You grin at him, “You’ve grown quite a bit.”

“There’s so much I want to talk to you about.” He says, “I just don’t know where to start.” You brush a hand across his cheek and in his face, you could see the little boy who pulled on your skirt begging for sweets. The little boy who cuddled you in your bed after falling asleep reading. And you felt your heart full for the first time in a while.

“Let her breathe,” Your Ma held her hand out to you, “Are you hungry love?” And you realized you were starving. You’d forgotten the last time you had stew. Rich people didn’t eat the scraps from their table all blended together like this. They hadn’t the need to.

It was food of the poor. The indentured. And it gave you more comfort than you could put into words. A hunk of crusty bread on the side and you were being spoiled.

Your Ma’s finger gripped your chin and turned your face in the soft candlelight. “When will he let you go.” She sighs, “I thought you’d be living free by now.” With a 400 pound a year pension and living the way you’d like. “I’m so sorry love.” You pull from her, scraping your bread over the sides of the bowl.

“I need to ask you something, Ma.” Bread swallowed and belly full, you gaze across the table at her, much like the way you looked at Steve earlier. “Do you remember Steve?” Her shoulders visibly tense, of course she did.

“He swore to me he wouldn’t talk.” Her voice tight, “Did he say something to Sir Pierce?”

“No.” You shake your head, sipping your wine, “No, he didn’t.” A swallow, “But he’s come back… and he wants to take me with him.” Confusion clear on her face.

“Take you with him where?” Her fingers rapping on the table, nervous. “You’re under contract.” You tug on your lip,

“Yes,” Your Pa and Peter enter the room. Parlor cleaned up and,

“Shut the door.” Your Ma orders, blocking this conversation from the rest of the house. You look at your Pa and Peter, before directing your attention back to your mother.

“This can’t leave this room.” Your voice sterner than you thought it would be. “Do you understand?”

It was going to be complicated. You’d told Steve earlier, “I don’t want to be your whore.” Your lips both swollen from kissing, “I have my own money. I want my own home and my own things.” Soft and emotional, “I don’t want to belong to anyone.” A nod, a prayer on his lips and he said,

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

You begin to explain, “Lord Steve Rogers,” Your Mother’s brow lifts, “He takes his title this week. He’s going to help me get out of my contract and help me keep my money after.”

“For what?” Your Ma shrugs, “What does he want in return.”

“What does he have to gain from it.” Your father adds. You lick your lips.

“He’s trying to take down Pierce.” You admit, “Get rid of his villainy over the city.” The murdered in the streets. The vile and wretched dirty dealings with him giving out loans and taking exceeded interest. Drowning families and destroying homes.

“And he wants you to help him.” Peter finishes.

“Yeah,” You give him a half smile, “I’ll be helping him.”

“Absolutely not.” A pound of her hand on the table and your Ma steps from it. “Peirce would see you hanged for betraying him and I refuse.”

“But Ma—”

“Your Ma’s right, sweetheart.” A sigh from your old Dad. “It’s a large risk to take, and no one knows if this would actually work.” It wasn’t a lie. If Pierce finds that you’re working against him you’d soon find your hands around your throat and your body tossed away like garbage. And maybe you were being foolish. Maybe this was a mistake.

“I could help.” Peter offers. “I mean… Steve.”

“No.” Firm and absolute.

“Listen to me,” You start, “Pierce would rather see me die than leave his side regardless of whether or not I help Lord Rogers or not. He’s shown that to me time and time again. Without fail.” Your voice rising in volume, “I’m not dumb enough to get swept away in this game, but it needs to be played, Ma.” If you were ever going to survive this.

“Send him here.” An order from your Pa. “Let me talk to him and we shall go from there, but your Ma and I want no word of either of you pursuing this.” His voice turning softer, “I want you back, not gone for good, do you understand me?” You nod.

“I understand.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #captain america #the avengers #peter parker #ben parker #mary parker #alexander pierce

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spooks-and-tea · 4 years ago

Text

Angel (Spencer Reid fem!Reader)

Word count: 3,781

Warnings: The usual Criminal Minds stuff, violence

Summary: You’re not sure where you are or what is happening, but you are sure that you’re being saved by an angel.

You’re an actress. An actress in a movie. This is all fiction, written and directed by Hollywood elites. This is your part to play. You aren’t really in agonizing pain. The leaves and rocks scratching the bottoms of your feet is actually grass and yellow daffodils. You aren’t in a dark, forested place, you’re in a bright, open field. You’re crying for the camera. This isn’t real.

Keep walking. Just keep walking forward.

You’re not sure why, but you’re walking towards bright lights.

Maybe they are camera lights?

They’re moving like the beam of a lighthouse, bringing you out of your dream.

This is your big moment, the final act.

You fall to the ground. The soft grass becomes rocks and twigs. They scratch your palms and you roll over onto your back.

The sunlit field go dark; large, old trees grow around you as your body grows heavier. There’s pain; you’re in so much pain. You’re confused, scared, and you’ve never felt so alone.

Except you’re not alone. The beams of light are real, voices are echoing through the trees.

A gust of wind sweeps through the canopy of branches and leaves float through the air, onto you. You’ve never noticed how pretty a leaf gliding on the wind could be; it’s a delicate dance, like a ballet in nature. Maybe, if you close your eyes, you’ll be able to drift into the wind with them. Maybe you can just float away from the pain.

“Y/N!”

The voices are louder now. Are they real?

“Y/N!”

It’s one voice that’s louder than the rest. How does it know your name? Why does it sound as sweet as wind chimes dipped in caramel? Is it an angel?

You try to lift your head to look, but your body is too heavy. You watch the lights illuminating the trees, one light is so close to you. You smile slightly at the light, but you’re not sure why it brings you joy.

Show me how to drift away, angel.

“Y/N!”

The voice is so loud now, it drowns out all the rest. You feel the need to answer the angel.

“I-I’m here. I’m here.” Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you; it’s hoarse and scratchy.

Why does my throat hurt so much?

“Wait, I think I heard something!” The same voice yells. It’s so loud now, you swear it’s just behind you.

“I’m here. I’m- I’m here,” you try one last time. Your voice gives out as the last syllable leaves your mouth.

Your vision is starting to blur as the light beam grows larger and larger, until it’s shining directly in your face. You close your eyes in pain.

“I’ve found her! She’s over here!” The angel yells. You hear the leaves crunch violently next to you.

“Y/N. Y/N stay awake for me, alright? Just- just stay awake a little longer. Help is coming.”

You open your eyes at your angel’s soft voice.

He’s beautiful. You can practically see a golden aura around him. His eyes are searching yours and they hold so much warmth. You want to trace the curve of his cheekbones and run your fingers through his curls just to make sure he’s tangible.

That must be my guardian angel.

Having him near you gives you just enough strength to drag your hand to his. He looks down as you weakly thread your fingers through his. You don’t want to let go of him in fear that you’ll be alone again. You want to hold on to the angel.

He looks back up at you and covers your joined hands with his free hand. You’re shivering, but he’s so warm. As long as you’re near him, somehow you know he’ll keep you safe.

“You’re safe now, I promise.”

In your peripheral vision, you see more lights nearing you, but you pay little mind to them in favor of drowning in the warmth of your angel’s eyes.

“My guardian angel,” you whisper. You look at him with all the love left in your damaged heart.

You want to listen to your angel when he tells you to stay awake, but your eyelids are growing too heavy. Without warning, you lose consciousness.

Your dreams are empty, and maybe that’s a good thing. You’re sure when you slowly open your eyes to a blinding white light that you’re dead. The image clears and reveals a white room. A machine beeps next to you. Your mouth has never felt so dry and your whole body is stiff.

There’s a blonde woman next to you, you think she’s pretty, but she’s not your angel.

“Where-“ your voice cracks and the woman’s eyes widen as she sees you’re awake.

“Here, sweetheart.” She has a motherly voice that only comforts you half as much as your angel’s voice.

She holds up a cup with a straw to your mouth and you take small sips, your throat feels tight as you swallow.

“My name is JJ. I’m an FBI agent. We talked on the phone once, do you remember?” She asks as she sets the empty cup down.

You wince as you try to remember, a deep pain throbs in your brain. You shake your head, starting to feel panicked at the situation. You’re not dead, you’re still living in this hell.

“Are the painkillers starting to wear off? I can call a nurse in.” JJ speaks.

You shake your head again, eyes darting around the room for him.

“Where’s my angel? I-I want my angel.” Your voice sounds as panicked as you feel.

JJ frowns.

“Sweetheart I don’t know who your angel is, can you give me a description, so I can find them?”

Her words calm you down just enough to regulate the beeping of the machine next to you.

“He found me. I was about to give up and he held me and made me feel safe. I want my angel. Please. I want to feel safe.” You plead.

“Did he have an FBI vest?”

You think for a moment and nod.

“Did he have curly brown hair?”

“Yes. Please, I want my angel here.” You whisper.

A tear slides down your cheek. JJ’s eyes follow it.

“Listen Y/N. I know who your angel is and I can bring him here, but I need to know that you can cooperate with us when I do. We need to ask you some questions that you might not be comfortable with so we can catch the man who did this to you before he hurts someone else.”

“I’ll do anything, just give me my angel, please.” You don’t have to think twice before agreeing.

“Okay, just give me 5 minutes, he’s not far. Will you be okay alone here for 5 minutes?”

“Yes.” You calm your breathing even more knowing he’s close.

JJ leaves, giving you a strange look.

You study the bleak, white room you’re in. There’s a small tv in the corner and you’re sure this is a hospital. The sickeningly medicinal smell is something that’s hard to place anywhere else. An IV is hooked between you and a machine. You’re sure the beeping is going to drive you crazy if it doesn’t stop soon. The pain in your head is beginning to throb again and it’s spreading to your stiff limbs.

You move your toes, trying to stretch your muscles. A sharp pain pricks the soles and it comes back to you. The forest. The rocks. Snapping twigs. Cracking leaves. Your breathing goes heavy; it feels so real. You’re there again, in the forest. Where’s your angel? You need him.

“No, no, no.”

Tears are welling up as you try to prop yourself up on your elbows. Your arms are weak, the stiff muscles shake in protest. The beeping of the machine quickens.

“Y/N.”

All it takes is one word from him to snap you out of your memory. Your chest heaves as you watch him walk through the door, closing it behind him. He walks slowly towards you, careful to not scare you, but he could never scare you. He was the safest thing you knew.

“Do you want to sit up more? I can help you.” His words are gentle.

You nod ‘yes,’ unable to form words.

His touch is just as gentle and as warm as you remember as he holds your arm and supports your back. It gives you the strength you need to sit up further.

“There. Are you comfortable?”

You nod again, looking only at him.

He takes JJ’s chair and settles in next to you. You reach out your hand and he looks down at it. He hesitates, but slides his fingers through yours. You take a deep breath, finally feeling safe.

He waits until you’re comfortable enough to speak.

“Why am I still here?”

He frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you take me? Why couldn’t you have just let me die? Everything hurts me here.” You speak, searching his eyes.

He looks taken aback, his mouth opens and closes as he tries to form words.

“I-I”

“You’re my guardian angel. You’re supposed to protect me.”

His eyes soften in understanding.

“Y/N, I’m not-“

He stops himself when he sees your dried tears that stain your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” He says, standing up.

You clasp his hand for dear life.

“Where are you going? Please stay.”

Spencer would never say he stayed because of the desperation in your voice. He wouldn’t admit that he felt something ache in his chest at the beautiful, broken girl in front of him.

After a month of grueling over this case, a month of being teased by an unsub at the BAU’s failure to locate you, a month of staring at your picture and apologizing before finding sleep. He made a promise to protect you and he knew he had to be the one to find you.

He knew all of this culminated in your mind, in an effort to protect yourself from the pain, as a dream. You made a safe world to live in where he was your guardian angel.

He can’t destroy your dream, not yet.

So Spencer stays. He holds your hand without a passing thought of the germs exchanged. He needs to be strong for you.

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

You visibly relax and give his hand a squeeze. You look at him with so much adoration, it makes his chest ache more. You’re waiting for an answer, he knows he has to choose his words carefully.

“You’re strong, you know. You can pull through this.”

You give him a sad look. He has to look down at your intertwined hands to catch his breath.

“Will you help me?”

It’s a loaded question. He wants to help you, but he isn’t the kind of doctor you need. There are boundaries he can’t cross as this is an active case and his previous relationship to you is already making Hotch question if he should be involved.

You’re a victim, you’re suffering and see him as your hero. He doesn’t want to take advantage of your state as some sort of sick savior complex. You have no clue who he is, no memory of him. It pains him, but he has to bring those memories back if they are going to catch this unsub. He’s no angel, and the moment you realize that will be the moment you really break down.

“I’m right here, but in order for me to stay, I’m going to need you to remember some things that are going to hurt you. I-I also don’t want you to call me your angel anymore, okay? Call me Spencer.” He skips the formalities. Calling him doctor would only make you more uneasy; he has to be careful.

Spencer. It sounds right.

“Okay, Spencer.” You swallow your nerves.

“Do you remember how you got here?” Your angel, Spencer, asks.

There is no going back to your safe place now.

“You found me in a forest. You saved me.”

“Can you tell me in more detail?”

You nod.

“I was walking in a forest, I-I didn’t have a destination. I just knew I had to walk straight until I couldn’t anymore. I fell and my body was-it was so heavy, I couldn’t move. I saw lights and I heard you calling my name. I knew immediately by your voice that I needed you.”

Spencer frowns at your choice of words, but nods for you to continue.

“I called out for you and you heard me. When I opened my eyes all I could see was you and this beautiful golden aura. I felt safe, finally; I wasn’t scared anymore. Then I passed out and woke up here.” You finish. Your brain is starting to register the pain in your soles again.

“My feet, they’re scratched up, aren’t they?” For the first time, you start to study your injured body.

“They are. You didn’t have shoes when I found you. You were also wearing a torn dress, it was torn before you were in the forest. Do you remember how it got like that?”

You squint at a deep purple bruise on your arm. It starts to throb.

“No. I’m sorry.” You want to give him the answers, but something in your mind is making the gap of missing time hazy.

“That’s okay. You’re doing great.”

“Before the forest, what is the last thing you remember?”

This one takes some thought. There has to be a specific point in time that you can place, but your sense of time is muddled. There’s a scene, however, a recurring scene playing in your head and you aren’t sure if it is entirely made up.

You close your eyes to coax out the memory.

“I think- I see something. I see you, I think. You’re on a screen and you’re angry. I-I don’t want you to be angry, but I’m angry too. I can’t make out what you’re saying.” You frown.

“Are you outside?”

“Yes, I see pavement moving under the screen. I’m holding a cellphone. I’m walking in the dark.”

“Look around, is there anyone around you? Do you hear footsteps? Are there any smells that stick out to you?”

“I can’t hear anything. It’s like I’m watching a silent film. I think I smell something, though. It’s strong. Cigar ash. My dad used to smoke them, it has to be that.”

“Follow that smell, where is it coming from?”

You turn your head slightly.

“There’s an alleyway. I’ve just passed it, but there’s a cloud of smoke coming out of it.” You scrunch your nose and clasp his hand tighter to ground yourself. You distantly feel his thumb drawing figure 8’s.

“I don’t understand. Why are you there? Is it real? Did this happen?” You ask.

“It’s real.”

“I feel someone behind me. I’m watching you on the screen, but someone grabs me. I drop the phone. Their hand is over my mouth.” You reach your free hand up to touch your lips.

“Can you see who’s grabbed you?”

Your mind doesn’t register the question.

“I think I’m trying to scream. I’m trying to reach for the phone.” You move your hand down to your neck.

“Y/N can you see the person that grabbed you?” He tries again.

“They hold my neck and throw me into the trunk of a car. I look up. It’s a man. He’s pale, with jet black hair that reaches past his ears. He has a long beard. There’s a blue sparrow tattoo here.” You point to the left side of your neck.

“He closes the trunk and everything’s dark... Spencer.” You frown as the name comes to you.

“Do you remember what happened after that?”

“No.” You open your eyes, squinting at the brightness of the room.

Spencer looks gutted. He can’t meet your eyes.

“Spencer. Were you there when the man grabbed me?” You ask. You’re so confused.

“No, but I should have been there. It happened a bit differently than you remember. You called me that night while you were walking home; do you remember that?”

You think for a moment, trying to picture the memory he’s painting.

“I remember,” you whisper.

“It was just a phone call, I couldn’t see you and you couldn’t see me.”

You nod, following his words. You watch his freehand grip the hospital bed sheets.

“We were fighting, but I-I’ve never met you... before the forest. I don’t understand.”

Spencer shakes his head.

“Y/N. You know me. You made me an angel in your head to cope with your trauma. Look at me.” He gently reaches out and places his palm on your jaw. You inhale, sharply, and look at him.

“You know me.”

Your eyes widen as the haze in your brain clears just enough to reveal the parts he wants you to see.

“Spencer.” The way you say his name is different now. There’s pain there.

“You found me. I was taken, but you found me.”

Spencer bit his lip.

“I did. I’m sorry I took so long.”

“How long has it been?”

“1 month and 3 days.”

You gasp. All that time, lost. How could you forget?

“Y/N I need to call Emily and give her your description of the man who took you. Do you remember anything else about him? Where he took you?”

You shake your head. Different areas of your body are starting to hurt now.

You half listen to Spencer as he makes the phone call. You’re trying so hard to remember things, but it’s making the pain worse.

Spencer stands and moves near the door, saying something so quietly, you can’t hear. For a moment you’re afraid he’s going to leave. The heart rate monitor, you realize, is speeding up. Spencer hears it and looks over his shoulder. Your eyes are pleading with him, saying the words you don’t need to speak. He walks back toward you and finishes the call. The beeping of the machine regulates again.

“I’m staying with you tonight. Is that okay?�� He doesn’t need to ask. Your heart beat answers him well enough.

“Yes.”

“Emily sends her love.”

“Emily.” You test the name, but frown when it doesn’t ring a bell.

“You’ll remember everything eventually, don’t worry.”

“I’m not sure if I want to remember everything.”

Spencer nods and looks at his hands in his lap.

“I love you.” You state the words as fact.

You remember loving the man next to you. He was your boyfriend, your partner, whatever you wanted to call it, you never labeled it. It made sense that he was an angel in your dreams.

Even though you know he’s very much human now, he still has a golden aura in your eyes.

“You would say that.” Spencer smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Why were we fighting that night?”

His smile falls.

“It was my fault. We were supposed to go out together that night, but a case came up at the last minute. You were angry, rightfully so. I was tired, I’d just finished a case and I didn’t have a chance to even go home before another one came in. You were waiting for me at my apartment and I called you to tell you I wouldn’t be able to make it. You left and we argued. I um....I said some things that I didn’t mean and it hurt you. You were breaking up with me when the unsub grabbed you. The last words I said to you, when I realized, was that I would find you.”

You take in his explanation, not noticing the tears beginning to fall. Guilt was laced with every word.

“It was my fault you were out that night. I’m the reason this happened to you. I should have been there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Spencer. You’re the reason I’m still alive. I should be lying dead in a forest, but I’m not.”

“I’m sorry, for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t there that night. I’m sorry I always put work before you. I’m sorry I made you question that I love you. I’m sorry it took so long to find you.”

“Spencer.” You reach out to him and he moves closer. You pull him to you and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands hesitate on your waist before he’s pulling you closer.

“I forgive you; for everything. I don’t want you to feel guilty,” you say, and he falls apart in your arms.

He can’t let it go, for 1 month and 3 days he blamed himself; he worked himself to death to find you. Spencer sobs apologies and you forgive him for each one. He’s heavy in your arms, and your side is beginning to hurt, it’s almost excruciating.

Eventually he calms down, he pulls away and his eyes are rimmed red. He sees you wince and immediately goes into protective mode.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s fine. I think the pain meds are just wearing off.”

“I’ll go get a nurse.”

“Okay, but promise you’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

You watch him move and it’s so familiar. It’s the one sure thing your memory serves you.

When he returns he’s talking medicine with the nurse. You want to ask her about your condition because it’s starting to feel like you have broken ribs, but Spencer is holding your hand again in the next second and you’re not sure if he knows, but you don’t want him to.

The nurse fills the IV and you wait with baited breath for the medicine to kick in. She leaves with a smile and you turn to Spencer. He sees you fidgeting as you try to get comfortable. He reaches out to hold you, but his hands hover; he’s afraid to touch you. He opts for holding your hand.

The medicine is starting to work and your body is growing delightfully numb. It makes you giggle. This stuff is strong.

“This stuff is great. No more pain.” You comment.

“Yeah, they’ll give you morphine for a few days and eventually substitute it for something less strong.”

You nod and pull the blankets higher. You’re finally comfortable as you watch Spencer who’s looking back at you.

“You’re still my guardian angel, Spencer.” You whisper.

He raises your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“Sleep. I’ll be here to keep you safe. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Your heart is warm and you smile as you fall into a restful sleep. Maybe tomorrow you would remember the horrors of what you went through, but tonight, with Spencer by your side, you’re comfortable and safe.

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