#and sometimes I just immediately go the medical friend
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
nerdgirlnarrates · 1 year ago
Text
I think part of the difficulty of sharing certain experiences in healthcare with non-healthcare loved ones is that I'm simultaneously telling a story and teaching physiology or pharmacology or what have you. It's not that I resent this at all, it's just difficult to allow myself to fully experience and express my feelings while also keeping track of what I need to explain. I feel that I often do a bad job translating, and I leave some sentiments lost between us.
10 notes · View notes
kitsunelike · 6 months ago
Text
i feel just like. really achingly lonely and jealous of other people and if kinda starting to kill me
3 notes · View notes
schizononagesimus · 8 months ago
Text
being in a family of other addicts is weird, i never really thought of it like that but us all being in town together for my graduation has just been like (ENABLES U) (ENABLES U) (ENABLES U)
#i dont even think of us as addicts rly even tho we all are. like. medically and socially. hell i may not know him but my birth father is in#PRISON for addict behavior soooo#anyway i made some mild drug choices and though i was pretty immediately displeased with the sensations and their consequences nothing#overtly bad happened this time so id call it a neutral thing#i just had a couple beers bc i was sad and my grandad had an entire bottle of wine by himself prior to that#and like a couple beers is Fine but i didnt realize my tolerance had tanked and i shouldnt drink out of sadness and i only got. sadder. so.#at least they tasted good mm duvel (LOUD CRYING) anyway good luck babe by chappell roan#and i had some weed w my dad. i forgot how much i hate getting weed from other ppl bc ive never found a Soul who knows weed like i do so#theyll just go 'oh it's for sleep.' 'no like what strain is it' '8#ignore the 8 lol anyway#'idk' 'ok then is it like hybrid or do you not know' 'yeah idk' cool at least my dad knew the mg#i honestly needed to eat like in a bad way ive had so much trouble eating recently even eating out so this was helpful on that front#think this might be my first like properly full stomach in a while#and i definitely did need the nap but i DIDNT need the muscle pain#so to answer my own question to my dad earlier that was a HYBRID with the worst characteristic of sativa in it#cause that shit makes pain far more obvious sometimes and man has my whole body hurt for a few days#anyway speaking of body pain im helping a friend move tomorrow THEN going to bjj skdnsksms#it's fine im fine#anyway yeah long story long im Good and i couldve refused my family's offers yes and i have before and have often while theyve been here!#but i didnt because we all in my family got that same 'ehhh fuck it i deserve this' attitude sometimes#but nothing blew up this time though i still didnt like it so again. reminding myself that even when it goes well i still just Dont Like It#ergo do not do the thing#sobriety update#drugs tw#lessons of the hand and the mouth
1 note · View note
cocklessboy · 2 years ago
Text
The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
16K notes · View notes
midday-clouds · 4 months ago
Text
Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 III
Part I Part II Part IV
Took me so long to figure out how the rest of the story could go XP Also, I've seen how some of y'all want the reader to become a vigilante/villain :) It is definitely possible but not with the current story idea I have in mind. Maybe one day, I'll make a side story where the reader becomes a vigilante/villain
CW: Violence (Bar Fight), Stalking, Blood, "Death"
It has been a few weeks since you moved into Bludhaven and Nightwing being your nighttime companion
He always comes over to your apartment with a couple of injuries and asks to stay a bit
With Nightwing’s instructions, you learn to bandage injuries to help the hero
Maybe it’s because your mental wounds from your neglectful family are still fresh, but Nightwing quickly started to grow on you.
It just feels nice to have a friend while adjusting to your new life.
It also could be because he actually came to the rescue when you were attacked
This does make you wonder why Batman didn’t save you in Gotham but who knows what that big guy does.
Another thing you wonder about sometimes is who Nightwing is.
You were never really curious about the vigilantes in Gotham, even though four well-known vigilantes resided there.
Ever since you met Nightwing, you tried doing some research on him but you immediately stopped when you saw the words “Richard Grayson” in an article.
While the batfamily would be more than happy to stay in Bluvenon so they can meet you, Gotham needed them. (Also they may overwhelm you)
Because of this, the family (except Dick and Jason) return home where more plans are made.
Jason decided that he will be the next person you meet and he won’t take no for an answer.
There is one problem though, you’ve seen Jason with his Red Hood attire
You may not have connected the dots at the time but you definitely will when you see him again.
After debating with Dick, Jason finally agrees to primarily watch you from a distance
In an attempt to meet more people, you decided to participate in some summer events that your college was hosting
You make a couple of friends and go out together
College classes are just around the corner and your friends suggested going out to a bar
This is a special moment so you decide to go with them
You all made plans on the designated driver and kept an eye out for your drinks
When you go to the bar, it's almost sunset.
This is your first time drinking but you trust your friends to keep you safe. (You ended up hating the taste)
Unknown to you, Jason is watching you from outside of the bar
If it was Dick’s turn to watch over you, he’d drag you back to your apartment.
Jason just allows you to have your fun time with friends, getting lost in how happy and innocent you seem.
This all crashes down when a fight suddenly happens right next to you
You and your friends try to get away from the scene but you're suddenly knocked to the ground
A drunk person slams a glass of alcohol next to you, probably mistaking you for someone else, which gives you a ton of small cuts.
Jason quickly puts on his mask and breaks into the bar. He beats up any drunk person who tries to stop him from reaching you.
Your sober friend tries to pull you away from the fight but is worried about all of your cuts
Red Hood suddenly appears to drag you and your friend away from the fight.
The fight gets worse and some random person seems to have called the ambulance
When the ambulance arrives, your sober friend hands you over to them and Red Hood disappears
You’re given a few bandages before the medic has to focus on another injured individual
In your dizzy state, you manage to slip away to stop the ringing in your ears
Something in you also told you it wasn’t safe to go to the hospital
Walking through an alley, your bandages seem to loosen and you eventually collapse on the ground from blood loss
Red Hood steps away for a second and you suddenly disappear.
He didn't want to be seen by the ambulance so he got onto a nearby rooftop to update Nightwing on the situation.
At least you didn't get far but the blood pooling under you slowly grows. This would be the second time you died
Nightwing appears and finds you wrapped up in a jacket while Red Hood picks you up off the ground.
One of the walls of the alley seems to have gotten a hole from Red Hood punching it out of frustration
Getting closer, Nightwing can see that you were given fresh bandages before being wrapped up in Red Hood’s jacket.
Also, you’re still breathing!
Seeing that you may still be alive, you’re taken to Nightwing’s apartment
Red Hood places you on the bed while Nightwing contacts Batman.
After one final look over and a blanket thrown over your body, Red Hood joins Nightwing in the living room
You slowly wake up in an unknown room and immediately sit up
The first thing you notice is how dark the room is
Squinting a bit, you find a lamp on the nightstand and turn it on
You find yourself in a bedroom with a blue and black color palette
There’s a desk in front of the bed with two computer monitors
You turn on the computer to see the date and immediately recognize a name
Richard Grayson
The name is enough to fill you with annoyance but you try to stay focused
How did you get here? Are you back in Gotham? Back at the manor?
You go to the bedroom door to find a living room instead of a hallway
Maybe you were still in Bludhaven?
This room definitely looks like it belongs to Dick
You never found his room in the manor but you did learn about some of his interests when you tried to befriend him (Alfred had to tell you all this)
As you finish snooping around the bedroom, a sound from the other room makes you freeze up
You quickly turn the light off, lay back on the bed, close your eyes and pretend to be sleeping
There are some voices in the living room but it's hard to hear past the sound of your racing heartbeat
Your heart almost stops when you hear the bedroom door open and the voices get louder.
At least you can actually understand what they’re saying now
They mention Batman, Robin, Demon Spawn, and other things you don't understand.
Maybe this was Dick and his friend talking about vigilantes? Though…one of them sounds familiar….
Your train of thought is cut off by someone putting their wait on the bed and running their hand through your hair
To distract yourself, you try to recognize the voice the best you can. Could it be Nightwing? Does Dick know him?
A kiss is placed on your forehead before the two people leave the bedroom.
After waiting a couple of moments, you open your eyes and confirm that you’re alone.
You slowly slip out of bed to try to listen to hear more of their conversation.
It seems that they called someone because there are new voices but it isn't that clear
The conversation begins to scare you as they talk about you.
Calling you their sibling/daughter and status on how your injuries were healing
Based on what is being said, you figure out that five vigilantes know quite a bit about you…
Deciding that you’ve had enough, you find a way to sneak out of the apartment
Looking out the window, it looks like you're a few floors high.
You carefully open the window as quietly as you can and peek outside to find a fire escape just one window away
You must be lucky because you reach the stairs safely and immediately start going down the stairs
The sun is about to rise and you realize that you don't know where you are
You run around for an unknown amount of time before finding a bus stop
There isn't any money on you so you just pick up a map for the bus route
Looking over the map, you’re able to find a familiar street before finally making it home
It took you a long time to get a new key because you basically had nothing on you but eventually, you were able to finally collapse on your bed
You fall asleep immediately
By the time you wake up, it is night again
Getting up, you start making yourself some food while some research on vigilantes
Focused on finding answers, you’re able to connect the dots on who the vigilantes are based on your information from when you lived in the manor
At some point, a knock is heard from your window
On instinct, you walk over to your window and open your curtains
Seeing Nightwing and his dumb smile fills you with rage. Which you are more than happy to let him know
You close your curtain and can faintly hear Nightwing trying to talk to you from the other side of the window
Well, it seems that you now know their identity
Jason saw and heard you run off. He and Dick were about to follow but Bruce told them to not follow you
The next night, Jason watch you reject Dick as he tried to pretend last night didn’t even happen
But it seems you weren’t having any of it
Dick returns to Jason, dejected
A new plan would have to be made, and Tim knows exactly how to get back on track
1K notes · View notes
bluublu-blub · 7 months ago
Text
yan! ex husband (cont.)
Things got a little messy with my life within 5 days after I uploaded. I was almost disowned but things are better now. I was planning on uploading soon but I only got time now.
next
You barely remember when it started —when was the last time he sat down and spent time with you instead brushing you off in your rare times of rest. You do understand how time consuming his daily activities are. He was, after all, a professor by day and a medical student at night. So, you would smile at him and assure him that you always understand and you are fine with less date nights and hangouts. But, you were only asking a bare minimum from him —you just want some time where you both just sit in each other’s presence and let the silence be because it brought you comfort.
You just want to know that he is still there.
That, in some way or form, you still matter.
(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it is a right choice to get married as soon as you both finished your undergraduate degrees.)
(You brush the traitorous thoughts away from your mind.)
Just a little more. You can still wait.
Was it by a stroke of unfortunate circumstances, you wonder as you watched him grinned widely as he finished med school and immediately was recruited to some hospital while his words came from one ear to another. He seems so happy and less stressed as you try to keep up with him. 
“What do you think, love?”
What do you think? 
“What?”
“I asked if we can move closer to my workplace?” He repeated and you felt that once again your world froze. “It will be a different environment from here. The distance is a little over five hours in this place. Wouldn't it be more convenient?”
“Oh, yeah.” Convenient for him, sure. But, what about your career? “But, it will be far from mine.”
He brushed you off. “Well, you can always quit right?” Then he moved on to the next topic as if you agreed.
Oh.
Do you really matter to him at all?
You often heard from your friends that sometimes being together wouldn’t be enough if the relationship becomes stagnant and prison for your well-being. You had denied everything that is slowly ruining your relationship for years now, you let go of your convictions, passions, and dreams just for him. Let him shine and soar high while you are left scrambling in the ground. 
It was not like this before. 
Before, he listened. He was there before, there used to be a lot more love and smiles. 
Home was him before.
Home is not him now.
You stared at the documents in your hand, you had talked to your attorney about the procedures and now you need his signature.
“Love?” He’s back early for a change.
It’s time to end this godforsaken marriage and choose yourself for once.
“I need you to sign this.”
There is no going back to the past.
2K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 1 year ago
Text
you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
2K notes · View notes
finelinefae · 8 months ago
Text
the other woman
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved
word count: 5.5k
contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship
. . .
"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."
"Yeah,"
"I love it."
"You do?"
"I adore it."
"Good."
Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.
She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.
She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.
"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.
"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.
"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.
He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."
'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'
She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.
"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.
"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"
"We're doing the human form." He answers,
"Right."
"You're upset."
"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.
He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.
She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.
Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.
"You're leaving?" He asks.
"Who is it?"
"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.
"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.
Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.
"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"
"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."
"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.
The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.
That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.
Harry was no different to that it seemed.
"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"
"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."
"You know more about me than anyone else does."
Sometimes it didn't feel like it.
Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.
It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.
She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.
"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.
"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.
Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."
Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."
"Y/N-" He tries.
"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."
She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.
An hour later she called him.
"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"
"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.
"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.
"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.
"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.
"I promise,"
"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."
"I forgive you."
The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.
"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.
"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.
--
The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.
Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.
Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.
"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.
"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.
"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.
"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."
"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."
She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.
--
"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.
Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.
"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.
"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.
"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.
"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.
He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."
She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.
Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.
She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.
--
Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.
She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.
They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.
She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.
Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.
"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.
"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."
"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.
"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.
She did.
--
"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.
"You want me to do that?" He asked.
"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"
Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.
"Your eyes." He answered after a while.
She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"
"Your eyes." He repeated.
"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?
"Yeah."
"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.
"What makes you say that?"
"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.
"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."
"You never look into them." She retorts.
"Of course I do."
"You don't."
A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."
"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.
"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."
Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.
"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.
He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.
--
Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.
"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.
"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.
"So everyone?"
"Possibly."
Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.
She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.
"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.
"What girl?" She blushed.
"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."
"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.
Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.
People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.
She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.
"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.
Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.
"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.
"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.
"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.
"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.
She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.
"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.
"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."
Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"
"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."
"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.
"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.
The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.
The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."
Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.
The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."
Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.
She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.
Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.
This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.
"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.
"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.
"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.
"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.
She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.
He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.
They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.
There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.
"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"
"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.
Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.
"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"
"Y/N-"
"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.
"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.
"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.
"Y/N you're never alone."
"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."
He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.
"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"
"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.
"Y/N—"
"Please just leave."
His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.
Maybe that was it.
All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.
"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."
She choked on a sob.
"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."
She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.
This was the end.
"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.
He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.
--
The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.
They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.
She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.
The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.
Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.
That made her smile.
He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.
Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.
Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.
Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.
She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.
754 notes · View notes
isakvaltersnake · 4 months ago
Text
things from the 2001 television programme band of brothers that haunt me to this day:
- we’re paratroopers lieutenant, we’re supposed to be surrounded. not to be your 60 year old military obsessed uncle about it but that line goes hard
- nix’s little giggle he does sometimes
- I’ll never forgive them for leaving gene’s medic training out of their training montage. in fact you know what? go back in time, film a parallel sequel of the other 9 eps from gene’s pov
- popeye’s “they called you guys too?” and the way his accent specifically scratches my brain
- they gave me moose heyliger and his massachusetts accent for like 20 minutes then the narrative snatched him away from me and i still miss him
- the way meehan looks at winters after he tells him to close the flap, in fact let’s talk about how every single one of winters’ commanders are obsessed with him in one way or another he truly is the it girl
- the chaos and fear that precedes gene and the calm and comfort that follows him
- I know everyone thinks “we’ll go to chicago, I’ll take you there” is the insane line but the one that actually makes me lose sleep is “what, and give up all this?” THAT MAN SAID I WOULD RATHER LIVE THROUGH THE HORRORS OF WAR THAN HAVE LIVED MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU
- alley is So Beautiful and I don’t think we collectively talk about it enough
- babe being some rando replacement in episode three and whilst his other replacement friends are being absolutely roasted he is immediately adopted by bill and then gets gene fucking roe of all people to connect to him?? he’s too powerful I need to study him
- speirs being this ghoulish terrifying boogeyman until lip is anywhere near him then he’s suddenly dimples and kicking his feet and giggling
- speaking of lip and speirs their little sarcastic in jokes, lip finishing speirs’ sentences fml it’s giving married
- you been working out? IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?? LIEB YOU SLUT?? THEN YOURE GONNA LAY IN HIS BED WAITING FOR HIM??? insane behaviour
- the unexplored but high potential friendships and the way I wanted like 16 more episodes for shifty and lip, nix and luz, nix and web, sisk and perconte, winters and gene, grant and tab, lieb and alley, speirs and harry, etc
- the more haggard and bitchy nix gets the hotter he gets. he also must be studied.
- “you should pack up those ears and go home” ok sobel kinda ate with that one ngl
- speaking of sobel the little confused/bewildered/piss-pants faces he makes david schwimmer the actor you are
- the silly little wide stance pennywise ass run hall does before he gets murked RIP king
- klepto speirs ilysm
- joe toye and his brass knuckles are v sexy
- sink letting nix give winters his oak leaves was very shipper girl of him
- lip harry nix speirs winters in the eagle’s nest dream blunt rotation
- the unsustainable amount of cunt served by nix, frank, babe, and luz at all times is truly a marvel
- tab really checked lip’s dick and balls mid battle and honestly that’s friendship
- bit parts for simon pegg, tom hardy, andrew scott, james mcavoy, michael fassbender, jimmy fallon ?? bob casting director you will always be famous
- peacock is so fine if he was even a little good at his job I’d be obsessed with him (special shout out to the scene of him getting sent home on furlough)
- I could list out every one of their meaningful little moments together but really it’s babe and gene just tethering and grounding each other and how they seem to gravitate to each other out of blind instinct? that’s some Brontë whatever our souls are made of bullshit I’m afraid
- ok I know I said I wasn’t talking about little meaningful moments but gene staring across the convent at where babe is sitting, lost in the peace
-bull in replacements getting imprinted on by a bunch of baby ducks and being SO PLEASED ABOUT IT he’s not the stepfather, he’s the father that stepped up
- speaking of, the underutilization of bull in the back half is such an out of character bad call
- you are officers, you are grown ups, you oughta know. HE’S RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT AND THAT’S ON GENE BEING THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO TELL OFF WINTERS
- I know nix and winters are married and whatever but the real married couple behaviour is luz constantly pissing off joe and joe immediately letting it go
- lip and speirs and their mutual competency kink
- I’M REAL SORRY FRANK skinny ilysm
424 notes · View notes
goldfades · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒; 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ─ PB⁵
Tumblr media
౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "oh my gosh, paige bueckers x uconn wbb athletic trainer intern with a situation at a game where paige gets a bloody nose (like the uconn vs seton hall) and paige like refusing to get cleaned up and reader like commands.. (i feel so silly typing this) but basically forces paige to let reader clean her up and the internet GOES CRAZY BC OF THE WAY UR HOLDING PAIGES FACE AND THE CLEAR TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO (reader and paige can be like friends with clear sexual tension or secret relationship whatever u like girl pop 😛)"
─ word count | 1.7k
─ warnings | friends with tension type shit!!!!! mention of aggressive playing, paige being slightly mean (due to her being frustrated), descriptions of blood noses, kissing and making up,
─ ev's notes | i saw that video and IMMEDIATELY saved it to camera roll, i am so down bad
Tumblr media
THE GAME WAS going pretty well up until the second half, everyone was playing aggressive and obviously, that was when people got hurt.
Usually, Paige tried her best to stay out of trouble. But tonight was different, these players were too cocky for their own good and Paige knew she had to humble them really quick.
As the second half kicked off, Paige felt a surge of determination. She dribbled past defenders with profencity, her moves as smooth as silk. As Paige drove towards the basket, weaving through defenders, one player decided to play dirty. With a swift elbow to the face, Paige staggered backward, feeling a sharp pain erupt in her nose.
Blood gushed from her nostrils, staining her jersey crimson. For a moment, the gym fell silent as everyone watched in shock. But Paige refused to let the pain stop her. She wiped away the blood, her determination burning brighter than ever.
Paige's frustration bubbled over, but she knew arguing with the referee wouldn't change the call. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly made her way to the bench, her jaw clenched with pent-up anger.
Paige stormed to the bench, her nostrils still dripping with blood. She clenched her fists, struggling to rein in her anger as you, the team medic, made your way toward her. She caught your worried gaze as she got up from the bench, pacing as she kept arguing with, you really weren't sure at this point.
Her teammates exchanged worried glances, knowing that Paige's fiery temper could sometimes get the best of her. But they also understood her frustration. They had felt the sting of unfair calls and dirty plays themselves.
"I'll put you back in when I know you're hot hurt and angry," Geno urged, his tone firm. "We can't afford to lose you to a technical foul or worse."
"I'm fine," she mumbled as she sent her coach a glare. You tried to dap the blood on her face with a towel but she moved her head away, her stubbornness getting the best of her. "I'm fine, for God's sake," her voice came out annoyed as she gripped your arm, pushing you away.
You felt a rush of frustration and something else — something you couldn't quite name — as Paige pushed you away, her grip on your arm firm but fleeting. It wasn't the first time her stubbornness had grated on your nerves, but there was something different about the way she looked at you, the way she touched you.
"Hey, look at me." You spoke sternly, only to be ignored. "Hey, I'm the damn medic and I'm telling you to sit the hell down so I can get you back out there, do you get that? Or you can't hear me now?"
When she ignored you for the second time, your patience with her finally snapped. You grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bench, gripping her face as you began cleaning up the blood on her face.
Paige's annoyance was evident as she glared up at you, but didn't say another word. She knew how you got when she didn't listen to you and she didn't wanna feel your wrath right about now. However, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.
"Would you just lay off already?" she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration as she jerked her face away from your touch. "I don't need you bossing me around like some child."
"You're acting a fucking child, you need to relax and trust your teammates." You snapped back, Paige's eyebrows furrowing in anger as she let you continue clean her up.
As you wiped away the blood, your movements were firm yet gentle, your touch a silent reassurance that despite your clash, you were still there for her. And though Paige remained stubbornly silent, her gaze softened ever so slightly as she watched you work.
"Paige, I just want what's best for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I know you're strong, but even the strongest of us need help sometimes."
Paige's gaze softened, her anger dissipating quickly. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to regain her thoughts ─ she knew that you were her soft spot, a place of comfort and understanding in a world that often felt overwhelming.
As she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into yours, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of your familiar face. With a sigh, Paige leaned into your touch, a silent admission of acceptance.
"I know, I'm sorry for snapping at you," Paige murmured, her voice soft.
You nodded in understanding, your gaze never leaving hers. "I get it," you replied, your voice gentle as you continued to brush her hair back from her face.
You finished up cleaning her nose and she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as the last of the tension seemed to drain from her body. As you finished cleaning her nose, Paige let out a deep sigh, the weight of her earlier outburst lifting from her shoulders.
"Thanks," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude as she met your gaze. "I appreciate it."
You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words. "Of course, Paige," you replied, your voice gentle as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm just glad you're okay."
But before she could respond, she heard her coach call out for her. She gave you a quick smile as she jogged up to Geno, her steps lighter now that the tension had been lifted. You watched her go with a sense of relief, glad to see her back.
As Paige jogged up to Geno, you couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself with confidence.
──
"Hey," Paige's voice rang out in the empty medical room as you glanced back at her with a smile, your head turning back to the task at hand as you heard Paige's footsteps toward you.
"Hi," you replied, your fingertips stretching as you attempted to reach the tissue box perched on the top shelf. Paige let out a soft laugh as she reached over your shoulder, effortlessly grabbing the tissues and passing them to you.
You blushed under her gaze, your fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment as you took the box. "Thank you, P."
The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation you couldn't quite shake as you turned back to the task at hand. Paige smiled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned against the counter beside you.
"No problem," she replied, her voice soft but filled with amusement. "So about the game..."
"Don't worry about it, it was in the heat of the moment." You answered quickly as you glanced back the blonde. You could see the guilt in her expression as her gaze lingered on yours, a flicker of regret dancing in her eyes. But before you could say anything else, Paige spoke up, her voice tinged with sincerity.
"I'm really sorry for snapping at you earlier," she said, her tone earnest as she met your gaze. "I know I can be a handful sometimes, especially when I'm worked up."
You smiled, a wave of understanding washing over you at her words. "It's okay, really," you replied gently, your voice soft but reassuring. "And I know how to handle you when you get like that, and I know you didn't mean it."
Paige's lips turned upward as she heard you talk, her shoulders relaxing visibly as a sense of relief washed over her. "Thanks for putting up with me, even when I'm being a bitch."
You let a small laugh as you shook your head, looking back at the blonde with a sense adoration. You felt your stomach do a flip as you met Paige's gaze, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words.
"Hey, you're not an ass," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection. "You're just passionate, and I admire that about you."
"Oh come on, you don't have to get all professional on me now." Paige joked as she gazed at you.
You shook your head, sincerity in your voice as you spoke. "No, I'm being honest. Seriously, that's one of the million other things I admire about you," you spoke softly as Paige's amused expression dissipated into a soft one.
You felt the atmosphere shift slight as Paige gazed back at you, you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.
Paige leaned closer before she spoke, her voice much softer than before. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft hum of the room. "That means a lot to me, coming from you."
You felt your breath catch in your throat as Paige leaned even closer, the air between you crackling with an electric intensity that left you both breathless. With a soft smile, she reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering as you savored the closeness to Paige.
Paige's hand cupped your cheek as she leaned in slowly, her lips barely touching yours in an almost-kiss. She then pushed your lips into hers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you as your lips met in a sweet, tentative kiss. The world seemed to fall away around you, leaving only the warmth of Paige's touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.
With a soft sigh, you melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to Paige's hair as you pulled her closer, your heart pounding in your chest with a wild abandon. As the kiss deepened, you found yourself lost in the sensation, the taste of Paige's lips against yours intoxicating and exhilarating all at once.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the softness of Paige's lips against your own filling you with a sense of warmth and longing that you had never known before.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy with emotion, you found yourself gazing into Paige's eyes, the depth of her gaze reflecting the same feelings swirling within your own.
"Wow," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."
You smiled, a rush of joy and relief flooding through you at Paige's words. "Me too," you admitted softly. With a soft smile, you reached out to take Paige's hand in yours, the warmth of her touch sending a surge of warmth through you.
Tumblr media
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
1K notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago
Text
my everything
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.
Author's note: enjoy💘
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."
Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"
Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.
"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”
 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."
 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.
The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 
“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.
Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.
 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.
 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”
 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”
“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.
“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.
 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.
 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.
 "Sam, don't—"
“You sound like an asshole.” 
 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”
Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.
“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.
The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.
Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.
Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.
 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 
“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.
“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.
 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”
 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.
 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 
 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”
 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”
Tumblr media
It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.
Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.
After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.
When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.
“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.
“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 
“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 
“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.
There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.
“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”
“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.
“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 
“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 
“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 
You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 
Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 
“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.
“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 
“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 
“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 
“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.
“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”
Tumblr media
It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?
“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”
“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”
“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 
You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.
She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 
“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 
“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 
“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 
“No, she didn’t.”
“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 
“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 
Tumblr media
You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 
As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 
Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.
Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 
“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”
“No.” He mumbled.
“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.
“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”
“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 
Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 
Tumblr media
Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 
The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 
“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 
“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 
She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 
You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 
The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 
While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 
“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 
“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.
“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 
Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 
“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 
“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 
“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 
“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”
“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 
“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 
“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 
“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.
“Yes, how do you know that?” 
“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 
You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”
“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 
You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 
“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.
“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 
“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 
“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 
Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 
“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.
Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.
“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.
“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.
Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.
“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 
“Bucky.” 
You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 
“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.
“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.
“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 
“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 
That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.
“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”
“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 
“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.
“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”
“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 
You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 
How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 
“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 
“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”
“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 
“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”
You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.
“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.
“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”
“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 
“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 
You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 
Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 
“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 
In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 
As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 
“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.
Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 
“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 
“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 
“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 
Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.
The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.
“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 
Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”
“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 
“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 
Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 
“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 
“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 
The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 
“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 
“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.
“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”
“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 
“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 
“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 
You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  
2K notes · View notes
miintsprigz · 1 year ago
Text
Mercs x GN! reader who drew them (ALL NINE!)
This goes out to everyone, not just my artists.
But yes, all my fic material is extremely self-serving.
Big thank you to a dear friend of mine for helping me with mercs like Pyro, Engie, Sniper, and Medic when I got stuck.
VERY LONG POST INCOMING
Scout
• Well, he IS an artist himself, that’s probably how the two of you first started talking.
• Ran past one day, only to immediately throw it in reverse and go “hey whoa whoa whoa when were you gonna tell me you could draw?!”
•Naturally…it was only a matter of time.
•He was always so encouraging about your stuff, so…after working up the guts, you showed him.
• “Yo wait a sec…you drew me??? I…” For once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been drawn—not even a self-portrait. For as cocky as he seems…well…
•He just…stares for a second. Marveling. Is that…really what I look like?
• “Do you like it?” “Abso-friggin-lutely, (Y/N)!!! You kiddin’? I don’t even look that beautiful in real life! And ya know, that’s sayin’ somethin!”
•You laugh, and he pulls you in so fast to hug you that you weren’t even ready. “But seriously…thank you. I’ve uh…I’ve never been drawn before. You did amazing. …you know I gotta draw you now, right?”
•And he does. He’s a complete perfectionist about it—he feels like he can’t replicate you, you’re one of a kind. (He actually does very well! But he’s so shy showing it to you…d’aww.)
Pyro
•Pyro was more of a doodler than anything. They loved color. And of course, you could resonate with that.
•Sometimes you’d draw designs and let them color it in. They giggled all the while…they just adored how creative you were.
•Being the most secretive about their appearance, they’re hard to nail down…even for you. Pyro is most themself in their full gear. You, out of everyone, know that best.
•So you took a…different approach. Abstraction.
•Their hands, the ones that so often seemed to be magnetically drawn to you.
•Their back, the strong shoulders when they just felt content to sit in the quiet with you.
•The brief glimpses you’d caught of their face—split second instances in shadows—those were easy, yet challenging. Their brief sightings made them easy to be abstract about, and yet, it made them harder to actually nail down.
•Conjuring a rather fittingly smoky composition, it had a dreamlike feel to it. Pure Pyro.
•You were only a bit hesitant to show them, but when they did see…they surprised you a bit.
•You could see them straighten up a bit…surprised. They craned their neck a bit, looking closer, gently curling their fingers over yours to hold the snapshot-like portraits with you.
• “Hmmm…” There was a sort of…tranquility to them. So unlike your little sparky fella.
• “Do you like them?” Immediately, the edge of their mask bumped against your forehead—your own personal way of kissing. That was all the answer you needed.
•They couldn’t verbalize it, but…seeing beauty in images of themself. The same beauty they saw all around them…it made them see themself in a way they never had before.
•And of course, it made them fall even deeper in love with you, the one who cared for them so much that they took the time to look so deeply.
Heavy
•Heavy is a very intelligent man, but he’s never had much gift for creative work. Even his insults were kind of just the same thing repeated, when the other mercs made it an art form.
•So he couldn’t help but be enraptured by your artistic endeavors and how much work you put into them.
•He loved to see you covered in your medium of choice, your passion for it. Made him lovesick. How lovely you were doing what you loved.
•If he could paint, he would have wanted to paint that. So he could look at it forever.
•So of course, imagine his delight when you decided to draw him!
• That roaring laugh you so enjoyed boomed immediately, just elated.
•“Ohhhh…look at that! You captured me perfectly! Beautiful!” You couldn’t help but beam with pride.
•“Can Heavy keep this?” “Of course you can, hon.” This warranted a sudden barrage of kisses to your face, which cracked you up of course.
•“Very happy to have such talented artist as yourself to love. But to me? You are most beautiful. In all the world.” Despite being more eloquent in his native language, Heavy could still get you to turn red. “Oh gosh…” “Is true!”
Demoman
•Tavish had always been a pretty sentimental fellow. He really did enjoy artwork, but didn’t talk about it much.
•Once he discovered that you were an artist, he was over the moon. Finally, he felt, he could talk to someone about art without them possibly poking fun.
•He’d never go in your sketchbook unless you allowed him to, but he always looked with such admiration in his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. So long as ya luv it, never stop doin’ this. Cuz I’ll never stop lookin.”
•One day, you told him you had a surprise for it. “I dunno if I like surprises…” “Oh trust me, Demo,” you chirped, “I think you’ll like this one.”
•As you held up the finished product, his mouth went agape. Almost instantly, he began to smile.
•“Well aren’t you just the sweetest!! That’s me there???” “Yes, love. I uh, I hope that you like it.” His gaze shifted over to you, and you could see his eye had grown somewhat misty.
•Demo was at a loss for words. He had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, certainly not good enough to be drawn. And yet. You had drawn him. Drawn him very well. And he liked how he looked. Was that how you saw him?
•“Aw, Tav…you okay??” He blinked quick, trying to keep composed.“Never better…c’mere, you…”
•Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a kiss, just about taking your breath away.
•“My little artist…ya made me look so good.” You caught him rubbing his eye a bit. “I just drew what I saw.” “Well, ya see a work of art in me. And that? That’s the best surprise of all.”
Engineer
•With how much designing went into his machines, Dell could always appreciate the skills of an artist. So when he learned that you were one, well, that only sweetened an already sweet deal.
•You were a little self-conscious at first about him watching you work. You tended to just work parallel to one another, both lost in your own stuff.
•You’d sometimes stop what you were doing to follow his hands as he put the pieces together, fingers wandering as they looked for the correct tool.
•When the inverse happened though—when Engie watched you work—he admired your spontaneity. You could start off with a total wild card and somehow managed to pull it all together and make it work, in a way he never could have come up with.
•Being rather rigid in his own trade, that was something Dell couldn’t help but be dazzled by. Very smart man for sure, but rather by-the-book. Not like you. He saw genius in the way your mind worked.
•So, one day, as the two of you perused each other’s handiwork a bit, you shyly revealed the piece you’d made of him—hard at work on an updated sentry model.
•His lips parted a little like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.
•“I know it’s a little rocky…I’m not the best at drawing machinery.” Gently, he took ahold of the sketchbook and gave it a soft tug, nonverbally asking for permission to hold it. You let him.
•As he looked closer, a warm smile crept across his face. “Well, well…wouldja look at that. That’s me alright.” He chuckled heartily, but you realized it was from admiration, not amusement.
•“Look at you, (Y/N)! Saw me all covered in dirt an’ said ‘yeah, I can make art from that’. I love it…shucks, darlin’, I can hardly get my eyes off of it.”
•He looked back at you, still all aglow, only to find you blushing to the point of near luminescence. “Aw, c’mon now honey…no need to be all shy. You’re incredible, ya know that?”
•An arm slunk around your shoulders, pulling you fast to his side, quickly pecking the top of your head. “I love it, and I love you.”
Soldier
•Soldier was a brave man, that he was confident in. But even he was self-aware enough to realize he wasn’t the sharpest.
•Anything he’d ever drawn looked like kids’ stuff, so to see what you could make? It blew his mind.
•Jane tried not to stare while you drew—you’d gotten all nervous when you’d caught him, and he was trying to be courteous—but he couldn’t deny how it captivated him.
•“Whatcha workin’ on now?” “I’m drawing those two goofs.” You motioned to the Spy and Scout bickering as they often did. “Why them, of all things?” “I just like capturing the moment sometimes.”
•One day, as you sat while he drilled the rest of the team, you started to do just that. You found it hard not to chuckle just a little as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.
•Sure, you got their annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be pulled in by Jane’s excitement and hot-bloodedness.
•“Seemed pretty lost in your work there, or I woulda asked you to join in.” A strong hand ruffling your hair snapped you out of your daze. “Capturing the moment again?”
•“Uh-huh. I think this is my best one yet.” You turned the book around to show him, and you saw his lips part slightly in surprise before he suddenly laughed. “Haha! Look at that! It’s me!”
•You laughed with him, just happy to see him so tickled by it. “I think I really captured you.” “I’d say so, kid! I’d say so…wow.” The amusement gave way to what you realized was…almost awe.
•“I look…strong. Proud.” “Yep.” “…I look good.” “Of course you do.” He nudged his helmet down a bit with his hand, chuckling to himself. From what little bit of his face you saw…was he blushing?
•Imitating him playfully—it was something you two tended to do, he found it cute—you joked, in your best impression of him, “‘Are you going soft on me, maggot??? You’re red as a tomato!’” “Noooo…oh, (Y/N), what am I gonna do with you?”
•He caught the side of your face softly and pecked you on the cheek. “But…really. Thank you, sweetheart. I think that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”
Sniper
•Truthfully, Mick had never given a lot of thought to the arts before he’d met you. What really caught his eye was the amount of time you put into it.
•Sniper knew better than anyone that holding still, completely focused on your task, being all but absorbed in it…that was respectable.
•The fact that he could leave for work and come back to find you in the same spot? It was just very attractive to him.
•You stopped by to watch him sometimes, very discreetly, on less busy days, although he wouldn’t lie, it got him nervous. He trusted in his own skills plenty, but…you weren’t just anyone. He couldn’t have you getting hurt.
•So one day, as he finally wrapped up, he saw you, still hard at work. He didn’t want to interrupt you, but if it was time to go, he wanted to go. Giving you a light pat on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Almost done there, darlin? Quittin’ time.”
•“Just a bit more…there. Perfect. Check it out.” You held up what you’d been working on: a full sketch of him invested in his own work.
•It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slightly slack-jawed, he looked up at you, the faintest trace of a smile.
•“Never considered myself the modelin’ type, ‘specially not out here, but…wow. Ya really did it. And I look bloody good, too!” “Well duh!” “Oh, stop—” Oh, that got him. The Aussie was surprisingly easy to fluster once he’d fully grown comfortable, and you loved it.
•“Awww, are you blushing?” “Just a little…now c’mon.” Taking your hand, he helped you up, quickly hugging you around the shoulders, catching you somewhat off-guard.
•“But really. Great job there. Thanks…it’s an honor, ya know that? To be drawn by you?” “Gosh—” “Heh, now you’re the one goin’ all red.” “Oh, stop—”
Medic
•The good(?) doctor first learned of your artistic prowess when he caught you trying to draw the charts he had on his wall. “Ooh! Very impressive.”
•Medic could do a lot of things, but drawing wasn’t really one of them. He couldn’t resist watching you work, even though he knew it was a bit touchy.
•“Poetry in motion, Liebe. Really.” Simp. “Oh, come on—” “I mean it! You have such precision, such grace…it’s a sight to behold!”
•So of course, when you were working on something that you absolutely would not let him look at, he wanted to see even more.
•“I promise that whatever it is, I will find it as beautiful as you!” “It’s not that, silly—it’s supposed to be a surprise!” He seemed almost sulky about it…it was kind of cute, although you did feel a bit bad.
•Eventually though, it was done—him, with Archimedes on his shoulder. “Okay, honey, you can look now.”
•One hand comes up over his mouth, audibly gasping. “Is that…? It is!!! Haha!”
•You had never seen him this happy, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, (Y/N)! Look at that…and Archimedes too!”
•Perhaps unsurprisingly, he brings the bird out to show him too. It’s hard to gauge the response from a dove, but the tranquil cooing seems to suggest that he enjoys it.
•The doctor catches you off-guard as he sweeps you into a kiss. “Oh…danke, Schatz (treasure). May I keep this?” “Of course~”
•Best believe this man is showing your art off to EVERYONE who he treats, going on and on about what an incredible artist and person you are.
Spy
•This guy is a man of culture, he can appreciate good art. And good artists, wink.
•But in all seriousness, your attention to detail was incredibly attractive to him. After you’d been together for a while, the two of you would sit in his smoking room and relax together once the work day was over.
•Sometimes he’d be off to the side just doing his own thing, reading, but other times he’d actually sit beside you and watch. There was an intimacy to it, one you took time to grow fully comfortable with, but he was patient.
•So when you were very secretive one night, it caught his attention. Nothing slipped past him—not even you. You sensed him behind you surprisingly quickly though, and quickly closed the project up.
•“Shy tonight, are we? So unlike you, mon bijou (my jewel)…” “Hehe…be patient, babe, it’s not done yet.”
•His arms wrapped around you from behind briefly…gosh, it was difficult to keep anything secret from this man. “Very well. Keep your secrets…for now.”
•But he respected that you didn’t want him to see it just yet, and so he waited.
•“…Okay, you can look now.” In an instant, he was behind you again. It was hard to even look up at the guy right now, but once you did…there was this sense of wonder in his face that you hadn’t seen before.
•It wasn’t often that Spy looked at himself unmasked for longer than a few seconds—he’d almost forgotten his own face by now. For spies, he reasoned, it was better that way. But the way you had captured every detail of him…
•“Oh, what a handsome devil…wonder who that could be…” Was he trying to brush off his own flustering? Maybe a little.
•You couldn’t help but giggle as he almost hurriedly sat down next to you, quickly drawing you in close as he continued to look. Almost entranced.
•That element of intimacy I mentioned before? It was his turn to feel it now. Not even in a physical way, which is what this Casanova is so used to.
•No, the fact that you had clearly just…looked at his face, so intently. There was something raw and vulnerable to it. And as much as he wanted to look at it even more, his eyes were magnetically drawn to you.
•“I wouldn’t have ever asked it of you, but…I always wondered what it would look like if you drew me. I…”
•Glancing back down, he found that he couldn’t even come up with anything to say. The act of love had rendered him speechless. YOU BROKE HIM OH MY GOSH/j
•“…Do you like it?” Before you could say anything else, you were swiftly kissed, and I mean kissed.
•Spy always looked at you with a sort of passion, but this was different. He had never felt so much love for someone. Felt like a young, hopeless romantic boy all over again.
•“I adore it…and most of all, I adore you, mon cœur (my heart).”
AAAAND IM DONE. WHEW. That was fun!
1K notes · View notes
mournthebird · 4 months ago
Text
Winter Soldier Post!HYDRA Headcannons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: Bucky is still the Winter Soldier | PTSD | Post abuse (physical, psychological) | Past SA and mentions of treatment for it | Light descriptions of injuries/wounds | Medical stuff
a/n: I was writing something earlier and it made me want to write this. It's just a random collection of headcannons I have. You bring him home after he escapes HYDRA. You have your hands full. Unedited.
Tumblr media
Following the events of the movies, let's pretend you bring Bucky home after CATWS. He's still the soldier. He's still Soldat. And Soldat doesn't speak. In fact he is silent for days. Uttering nothing, not a peep.
Soldat is silent, watchful, wary. He doesn't like being approached too quick. He stays in corners. He stays in small spaces. Being too exposed now makes him feel anxious. He reacts with aggression if he is anxious.
You learn all this.
He also becomes visibly irritated when he feels confused and stressed, which is pretty much constantly.
He needs you to order him around, which sounds harsh but the sudden change of environment and treatment is really confusing for him. He is too fresh from HYDRA to immediately just heal. That's now how it works. This kind of trauma doesn't just go away. This man is so severely mistreated, you aren't even sure where to start.
Simple things like telling him to shower or sleep. Otherwise he stays up for days and refuses to do anything. Free will is such a foreign concept to him.
Re-feeding and giving him nutrients and fluids is a nightmare. Luckily, you had a medic friend who could look at him without the involvement of the government since he was in hiding for now. You got all the supplies you needed, but it was still a hassle. His options were very limited when it came to food. Oatmeal, mashed potatoes, applesauce, things like that. He could barely stomach anything more solid than that.
He sits still for the IVs, but sometimes he doesn't and he puts up a struggle, assuming it is some kind of drug to manipulate him. You just have to stay close and talk to him so he pays more attention to you than what your friend is doing.
He got sick a lot. You had to be careful about that. Too much food made him sick, his body wasn't used to it.
He also was having difficulty remembering you and where he was, the fact that he wasn't undergoing constant brainwashing made all the chemicals go haywire. It made his moods unpredictable. He had aggressive bouts, though he never harmed you badly, he would grab you if you got too close out of instinct and fear.
He often broke down and during these times it was a gamble whether or not he'd let you around him. He felt so pathetic and small and horrible, confused and unsure for the first time in decades. He was used to being mindless besides the orders barked at him. Simple, easy, all he had to do was listen.
But now, things were different. He was no longer being kept in a shitty cell or in an icebox. He wasn't tortured daily, he wasn't taken into rooms where agents were greedy with him. He wasn't hurt. And...it confused him even more.
You notice he sits strange when he does. He doesn't like to sit for long. He says it hurts. He prefers to stand. You don't understand until later, and you do your best to help ease his pain.
He didn't understand why you didn't hurt him. Why you didn't hit him. Sometimes he hit himself when he felt like he deserved it, each time he felt a pit in his stomach when he saw the disapproving look in your eye and listened to the scold that came after. You were gentle...but firm. He could not hurt himself. That made him bad. Disobedient. Disobedient soldiers are punished. It was a cruel cycle that ran in his mind. You had to be the one to stop it.
When he did speak, it was simple Russian phrases. Yes, no, he addressed you as handler, his responses were monotone and recited. He had been trained not to speak. That wasn't what he was supposed to do with his mou-
Enough. The memories are invading again.
You could tell when he zoned out into his episodes, his eyes became glossy and he seemed to become a zombie. You sat him down somewhere quiet and stayed with him. Sometimes he didn't want to be touched, sometimes he let you. But you had to be careful, you never wanted him to be uncomfortable or make things worse.
It was a tender thing. But it was something you were more than happy doing.
After a few weeks he seeks you out more often. He stays close by, he even sits close to you or tries to get your attention. He's still quiet, but he speaks more now. Even in english, which you find a relief. By you you've learned the short Russian phrases he spoke, but it was good he spoke english too.
He starts to hang closer to you, he stays out of his 'hiding spots' in your home and stays around you more often. He sits on the couch beside you, starting to seek you out. It's a positive sign he's growing more comfortable.
He doesn't like being alone for very long. If you have a job, it might be hard for him. You try to get one where you can work from home, otherwise he is very anxious and clingy when you come home from your shift.
The spare bedroom is his, but he often finds himself migrating to your bedroom through the night. He needs your presence, he needs to know he's not alone. The silence is deafening, and knowing your body is beside him is comforting when he sleeps.
Speaking of, he starts off on the floor. It's a little heartbreaking, he sees the bed as a test, an awkward thing he doesn't want to sleep in. So he starts on the floor, then you move the mattress off the bed to the floor, along with some pillows and blankets. That seemed to help condition him to an actual bed before he eventually sleeps in yours with you.
You know recovery and his healing is going to be a long, bumpy road, but you are just happy he sees you as protection and comfort, and his trust is slowly building with you.
Tumblr media
Thanks for reading.
Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images from Pinterest
375 notes · View notes
milkteabies · 9 days ago
Text
Haikyuu characters when (y/n) passes out bc of her period
characters: Tsukishima and Iwaizumi
pt.2
(I meant to do more characters but I accidentally wrote too much just for these two)
a/n: this is purely self indulgent bc my period makes me pass out sometimes lol, so this is a female reader and ofc talks of periods and blood and passing out, so if that isn’t your thing or makes you uncomfortable, find something that’s more for you dear :D
also characters are probs ooc bc this is the first time I’ve written for them lol, so sorry in advance!!
—————
Tsukishima:
You had already started your period a few days ago, and just before it ends is when it’s the worst. The bleeding gets so heavy and no matter what, you feel very faint, but you couldn’t exactly skip school because you had an exam that you needed to do that you know the teacher wouldn’t allow to be retaken or rescheduled, so you hunkered down and trudged on.
Walking to school alone was uncomfortable, your cramps twisting in your stomach like a cheese grater to your organs. You were so distracted by the pain you didn’t even realize the footsteps coming up behind you.
“Can’t believe you’d leave me behind like that.” Tsukishima scoffs, his long strides easily falling into step next to your slightly stilted ones.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Tsukishima, I was distracted thinking about my exam today.” You smile up at him kindly, heart stuttering slightly, arms crossed over your stomach to try and alleviate the pain.
“Yeah, you told me about that last night… What are you doing with your arms?”
You look down at where they cross and shrug with a tired smile, “I’m just feeling a little cold today I think. Anyway, I’ll see you after your practice, yeah?” You wave as you walk off, joining Yachi and a few other friends to walk to class together, unaware of the secretly worried look following after you.
You’re in class, taking notes just before lunch when an incredibly strong pang hits you, squeezing the breath from your lungs. Quietly, you wheeze to try and distract yourself, and Yachi, who sits next to you, gently presses a hand to your arm in worry.
“Hey, you okay? Whats going on?” She whispers, glancing to the teacher to make sure they don’t notice.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just cramps.” You whisper back shakily, wrapping an arm snugly around your stomach.
Yachi gives you a sympathetic look, well aware of your struggles. “I have some extra strength advil in my bag, I’ll give you some at lunch.”
You mouth a thank you and quickly go back to taking notes when the teacher turns around.
As lunch starts, your friends amble around your desk to eat together, and Yachi quickly roots around for the medication and hands it to you, which you take immediately.
To try and avoid an extra stomach ache, you eat the light snack you packed with you, not having a lunch since you knew you would be too nauseous to keep anything down.
A minute later, the door to the classroom slides open and a familiar tall, bespectacled blond leans in. Your friend nudges you, and gestures with her head to the door when you look up.
You wave as you walk over to the door, “Hey Tsukishima, whats up?” You ask, standing in front of him.
“Just came to see if you were skipping lunch to do some last minute cramming for your exam.” He snarks, easily hiding the fact that he was worried and also wanted to maybe eat lunch with you to potentially help you study. Allegedly.
You laugh at his statement, knowing what he wants but continuing the bit, “I haven’t eaten in three days preparing, you think I’ll break my streak now?”
Tsukishima’s lips quirk before he hears a call of his name down the hall from Yamaguchi. “Ah, I have to go… Here. Make sure to actually eat something to power that pea brain of yours.” He huffs, pressing a strawberry cream bun to your hand before quickly walking off, his ears burning red.
You giggle after him, heart fluttering, before walking back to your desk where your friends all “oooh” and “aawww” at you which you wave off, slightly flustered.
Finally, at your last class of the day where your exam was set to take place, you knew it was gonna be tough. The medicine your friend gave you worked for a while into the exam, but by the end, it had worn off completely and you were not feeling good. You managed to finish the exam with a few minutes to spare, along with Yachi, because you shared the class, who you turned your exam in with, before packing up to leave.
Gathering your stuff, you felt almost all of your blood rush from your head as you stood up with your bag, and stumbled slightly. Yachi caught your arm and looked on in concern, but you smiled and waved it off to walk outside of the classroom. You barely made it a few feet out the door before your vision started to cloud.
Your heart was pounding and blackness bloomed across your eyes. You stumbled again, hitting the wall with your shoulder as Yachi rushed to your side, “(Y/n)! Oh my god, are you okay?!” She whispered loudly, kneeling in front of you, hands shaking.
“I- I can’t see.” You mumbled before your consciousness evaded you, and you slumped forward into your her arms.
It felt like an instant that you were awake again, no longer in the hallway, but now the nurses office, lying on a bed. As soon as you were aware of your surroundings, you became aware of your body and the cramps that were still crushing your insides.
You groaned as you sat up, a cold wet cloth flopping into your lap before you yelped when a snarky voice suddenly spoke up from next to you, “You should keep lying down, you might pass out again.”
Looking to your side, you found Tsukishima sitting in a chair, staring right at you with furrowed brows.
“Tsukishima? What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice- what time is it?” You questioned, looking around for your bag before another moment of lightheadedness hit you, making you press a hand to your forehead.
Tsukishima quickly stood up, pressing a hand against your shoulder, “Hey, listen to what I said! Lay back down!” He pushed, but you grabbed his wrist and pressed your forehead against his chest, breathing shakily.
“You idiot.” He mumbled, gently resting a hand on the back of your head.
You sighed before looking up at him, his hand still on your head. “Why’re you here?” You asked again.
“I was supposed to be at practice, but when Yachi called me, telling me you had passed out in the hallway, I couldn’t just not come. Who do you think brought you here? Yachi definitely isn’t strong enough to carry you.” He explains, brows furrowed again in worry.
“Ah, sorry about that.” You mumble, looking away from his eyes, but the hand previously on your head reaches for your chin and turns you back to him.
His eyes flicker around your face, as if searching before he finally demands, “What happened?”
You shrink a little into yourself, face flushing, but the hand on your chin holds firm as a second hand rests next to your thighs, trapping you in place. “…This’s never happened at school, it’s luckily only happened when I’ve been home, and normally my parents can take care of me, but my period makes me super light headed sometimes and I can pass out.” You murmur against squished cheeks.
Tsukishima’s face drops at the admission, “… So this happens regularly?”
“Well, kind of like every other period, but there have been times when it’s happened more than once if I have a really bad week.” You trail off, shrinking under his growing anger.
“And you’ve never told me about this because..?”
“I wouldn’t want to bother you and, like I said, normally my parents take care of me-“
“But what about times where they couldn’t?”
“I just lay down on the floor and then wake up later?”
Tsukishima can actively feel his blood pressure rise as he sighs, releasing your chin to pinch at the bridge of his nose.
“I’m taking you home and staying with you until your parents get home.” He states, standing back to full height before picking up both of your bags and pulling out his phone, presumably to text his team that he won’t return to practice at all.
“Tsukishima, you really don’t have to-!”
“I will, because you clearly can’t take care of yourself.”
“It’s not like I can control it!”
“Which is exactly why I’m going to take care of you. You can’t control it, and I don’t want to have to worry about you until I see you again!”
You’re stunned at the admission, feeling your ears burn at the worried look on Tsukishima’s face before you try again. “Really, it’s no big deal! You shouldn’t have to deal with your friend who-“ but before you can finish, you’re silenced by a pair of lips that press against yours.
You whimper in surprise as Tsukishima pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours, cheeks red as he glares at you, “I care about you and want to take care of you because I love you, can’t you understand that?” He demandss.
“Love?!” You squeak, pulling away to turn and hide your burning face in your hands.
“Yes, love.” He huffs, prying one hand away from your face to wrap an arm around your waist and rest his forehead against your shoulder. “…When Yachi called me, I ran across the school to get to you.” He mumbles.
Your heart racing, you take your other hand away from your face and gently tangle it through Tsukishima’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him shiver. “Sorry for worrying you.”
“… Whatever, it was my choice to worry, anyway.” He huffs again, standing and angling his head away to try and stop you from seeing his red face, but failing as you laugh, the cloth in your lap slowly wetting your skirt.
Iwaizumi:
Your stomach had been hurting all day. No matter of medication was able to stop the pain and despite having dealt with it for so long, you never got used to it and it never got better.
You just wanted to go home and lay down for the rest of the day, but responsibilities and school work didn’t stop just because you were tired, and you still had to get through practice after school, being the manager of the boy’s volleyball club. You’d just have to steel yourself to power through until you could go home.
Sighing when the final school bell rang, you slowly packed up your stuff and tiredly shuffled your way to the gym, biting your lip with each painful ache that shot through your system.
As you neared the gym, you could see the large cluster of girls already flocking to the open door, none of them daring to cross the threshold as they watched the team warm up. “Excuse me, girls.” You called politely, smiling when they shuffled around to let you through, greeting you kindly.
As you made it to the front, a stack of letters were shoved into your hands before the swarm cleared out, making you giggle as they chorused goodbyes and lightly pushed at each other bashfully. You closed the door to the gym and were again greeted, this time by the actual team.
“(Y/n)-chan! Is one of these letters finally from you?” Oikawa cooes playfully, taking the letters you held out to him, obviously from the girls who were just here.
“You’ve gotta try a bit harder if you want to actually be able to win my love, Oikawa.” You answered blankly, setting down your bag and starting on your basic duties.
Oikawa failed to respond as a ball ricocheted off the back of his head, making him fall forward as Iwaizumi barked out from behind, “Get back to practice Trashykawa!”
“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean to me!” He cries, stumbling back to court as you shake your head fondly at their actions.
As they continue to warm up, you go to fill up the water bottles, keeling over the water station when an especially sharp pain hit. You quickly straightened up when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, but winced again, pressing a hand to your side.
“Woah, are you alright?” The voice you now recognized as Iwaizumi asked as he appeared at your side, a large, warm hand pressed against the small of your back, making your face flush despite yourself.
You wave off his concern with a strained laugh, “Ah, I’m fine! Don’t worry, just a little side cramp.” You smile up at him, making his face burn at how cute he found you.
“R-right, sorry.” He quickly backs away, hands raised stiffly when he realized he was touching you. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” He asks, pointing to the crate of bottles.
“No, it’s fine. Focus of practice, Iwaizumi, not on the manager tasks I do every day.” You simper, resting a hand against his bicep before scampering off to return the, now full, water bottles.
Iwaizumi feels his heart race at the contact before shaking himself out of his head, where he will definitely be replaying that moment, to go back to practice. “Where did you go, Iwa?” Matsukawa asks rhetorically, snickering with Hanamaki at Iwaizumi’s flustered face before running off when he threatens them with a ball.
As they continue through practice, you’re sitting on your bench on the side, half empty water bottles to your left, a bag of towels to your right, and writing on your clip board the practice scores and what specific players should practice on, on their individual sheets.
Every few seconds you can feel your eyebrow twitch in tandem with each cramp that hits. You slowly feel yourself start to sweat, the back of your shirt clinging to your skin uncomfortably and your hands going clammy. Fanning yourself with a free hand, you reach for your own water bottle.
The cool water helps, partly, but not enough. The heat in the gym is getting to you, the constant squeaking of sneakers and slamming of the ball, you can feel your chest get tighter, your vision blurring, head starting to spin. You quietly get up and speed walk to the door, fanning yourself with your clipboard as you go.
Making it outside, you take a few stumbling steps to lean against the wall of the gym, hearing muffled and ringing, but suddenly aware of someone coming up behind you with quick steps. “Hey, what happened?” Iwaizumi asks, holding onto your shoulder in worry, brows furrowed.
“Aw, you care about me, Iwaizumi?” You can’t help but tease, a feigned, coy smile on your lips which makes him flush and stutter in his steps and response.
“I-I’m just feeling a little hot.” You pant, continuing to fan yourself and attempting to take a step forward when your legs suddenly fail you and you stumble to your knees, dropping the clipboard, papers scattering.
“O-oi, (y/n)!” He calls, dropping down next to you and catching you with an arm across your clavicle when you suddenly slump forward, eyes shut.
You wake up with a start, finding yourself on a bench in the team room with a cool pack on your head. Reaching up, you grab the pack and slowly sit up, swinging your legs down to sit normally.
“You’re finally awake.” Iwaizumi’s relieved voice sounds from the door of the room, startling you into dropping the pack on the floor. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, quickly coming to your side with your water bottle in hand.
You take the bottle and drink a few gulps, accidentally spilling some drops from the corner of your mouth which slide down the side of your neck. Iwaizumi can’t help but watch them fall before shooting his eyes back to your face when you clear your throat.
“Did-uh, did you bring me here?” You ask awkwardly, wiping away the spilled water.
“Yeah, you collapsed in my arms, and the nurse’s office was closed, so I-uh, brought you back here instead. If you weren’t feeling good, you should have just gone home.” Iwaizumi reprimands gently, sitting on the bench sideways to face you, watching your shoulders slump in mild shame.
Nodding along, you laugh, “I probably should have, but I thought I’d be able to last. I didn’t want to leave you guys manager-less if I could just power through. This normally hap-”
“This is normal?” Iwaizumi cuts you off, leaning in to look at you with a shocked and worried expression.
You lean back, flushing at the sudden proximity. “W-well, kinda. My period can get pretty heavy, and it can make me all lightheaded, and sometimes I pass out. But it normally happens at home, not at school!” You stumble through your explanation, pressing a hand to Iwaizumi’s chest and turning to look any place other than his face.
“That’s not safe at all! What happens if you fall and hit your head?!” He demands, leaning closer, one hand grabbing your waist, the other pressing the hand on his chest closer so you could practically feel his heart racing.
“My-my parents help me, or I just lay down until I can get up!” You stammer, only making it worse.
Iwaizumi sighs into your shoulder, hugging you close to his chest between his legs. You sputter at the sudden contact, arms trapped between your chests, but freeze when you feel his hand squeeze your waist.
“You’re gonna make my heart give out. You make me so worried.” He mumbles into your shirt.
Your hands grip the front of his uniform tightly as your eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment at how hot your face feels. “Sorry.” You whisper into his hair.
“It’s not your fault, but… please, let me take you home so I know you won’t just pass out on the side of the road.” He practically begs, unconsciously circling his thumb on your hip comfortingly.
You giggle at his words, heart fluttering from his actions. “Ok, just so I can pass out in your arms instead.” You simper, quieting a giddy shriek when his hands squeeze your waist tighter as he chuckles into your neck.
—————
a/n: let me know if I should write for other characters, or if you have any fun ideas/requests!!
211 notes · View notes
wosoragebaiter69 · 1 year ago
Text
you are broken on the floor
Tumblr media
alexia putellas x keeper!reader
overview: goalkeeping means sacrificing your body, how far would you go?
A/N: i feel rlly sad so i got the discord to come up with ideas (thanks @totaly-obsessed + @alotofpockets)
TW: Blood, Severe Injury, Brutal Angst
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ever since a child, you loved the feeling of saving footballs. If any of the teams you were on needed someone in goals you'd be the first the volunteer, along the way you actually got good at it and eventually signed with Barcelona in 2021, making good friends along the way.
Along with joining Barça, it came with getting a girlfriend. Who was the best person you'd ever had in your life romantically.
Being a keeper in the best club would always mean injuries, trying to keep a clean sheet like any defensive player wants.
Sometimes though, injuries are worse. Life threatening in some cases, career ending in others. It's something no player even wishes upon their most rivalled team.
You just had to be unlucky didn't you?
Barcelona were comfortably winning against Frankfurt 3-0, when a gap in defense allows a German player to make their strike. You fall back onto the line hoping the punch the ball away.
Seems like life has other plans.
The player shoots left, you dive left and push the ball away. However with being airborne, you can’t stop. Your body crashes into the post with a loud thud.
The stadium goes quiet, your screams and cries horrific. Your body looks… wrong.
Your collarbone isn’t straight, it’s indescribable. Bones are poking out. There’s blood running down your face where your head has cracked open after hitting the post.
It’s sickening to watch.
Players immediately rush over, forming a circle around you as to not show a fellow player in such vulnerable state.
Alexia is by your side trying to comfort you, trying to keep you still. Seeing you in this much pain makes her heart ache. If she could take it all, she would.
Paramedics are by your side instantly as the circle of players back up to give them space to work, Alexia sits helplessly watching you worm in pain.
After quick testing to make sure you were still alive and conscious, they get you on the stretcher. Which includes more screaming, and more pain.
Alexia watches as you get taken off the field in a hurry, fans of both teams clap and give you a standing ovation.
“Alexia, she’s strong. Let’s finish and win this game for her yeah?” Mapi pats her best friends back, also devastated at the turn on events.
“Ye- yeah.” The captains broken voice says.
- - - - -
As the rest of the minutes in the game are being played, you’re fighting for your life in the back of an ambulance.
The pain getting unbearable, you find yourself slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. Paramedics are doing things around you, but your eyes are too glossy to really tell. Your mind is also too fuzzy to think straight.
There is one thing you want, Ale. But, with everything? You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve ruined some of your vocal cords from screaming so loud.
Soon enough, you succumb to the darkness. Letting it engulf you to a place less ridden in pain and chaos.
- - - - -
The game is over, an unspoken heaviness in the air surrounding both teams. There is little interaction with fans, whom luckily understand the pain the players must be feeling at the time.
Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid get in the Norwegian’s car and drive straight to the hospital where the medical team said you were going to.
When arriving, Ingrid drops Alexia and Mapi before parking, understanding they need each other. You were important to everyone, but Mapi was like your sister and Ale was obviously your girlfriend.
They rush inside, talking quickly to the nurse at reception who gives them sorry smiles, updating them all that she could. Which was that you were alive and in emergency surgery.
They don’t argue, it’s pointless. So they sit down on uncomfortable plastic chairs, playing a waiting game until you were coherent and safe.
- - - - -
4 hours and many freak out sessions later, a doctor walks over to the three girls explaining the situation you’re in.
“It’s a grade 2 concussion to her head, in cases like these there is chance for memory loss. I believe she has all her memory, we were talking about different things before I came here. It’s a high possibility that she has no memories from the accident though.” He pauses before continuing.
“She experienced a dislocated collarbone. We’ve put it back in its original place, recovery could take 1 year and she might never be to the level she was at currently again. We had to do work on surrounding ligaments which makes the recovery time longer.” The girls take in the information.
“Have you told her she won’t play for a while?” Ingrid asks the question on everyone’s mind.
“I did, she was upset in her own right. If that is all your questions, she has her own room. I believe you all know concussion protocol?” They nod.
“Ok, room 3146. If you need anything at all just shout.”
“Gracias, for everything you’ve done.” The doctor smiles at Alexia.
“No problem.”
- - - - -
When reaching the room, the 3 Barça players see your state, a gauze wrapped around your head and a large cast across your torso, restricting movement.
“Amor?” Alexia asks cautiously.
“Hi Ale.” You look at the other two. “Mapi, Ingrid, nice to see you.”
Alexia sits by the chair on the side of your bed, looking up with teary eyes.
“Please, please don’t ever do that again.” She sobs, cradling your face softly. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”
“Ale, you’ve got me. I’m right here, please don’t cry amor. Por favor.” You look over to the other two in the room, smiling softly.
She takes a couple minutes to settle down and finally talk.
“Have you heard about your recovery?”
“Sí” You watch her sigh, tracing patterns over your hand.
“Lo siento, but I’ll be with you the whole way ok? I promise.” She says without an inch of hesitation in her voice.
“Te amo mucho Ale. That means so much more than you could ever know.” She responds by leaving a lingering kiss against your hand.
“I’m glad you’re ok. Had as all worried.” Ingrid smiles lightly.
“Yeah.. I don’t remember much about what happened. I might later on but for now I’m content without the memories.” She laughs.
“Well, all of the culers and people at Barça wish you a safe and great recovery. Even if the doctor hasn’t said it, you’ll come back stronger I know it.”
“Thanks Maps, I think I stay in the hospital for a few more days then I’m clear to go home. I have to wear this for like 6 weeks then start the strengthening physio whatever.”
“Ah, can’t wait to see you on the pitch again then amiga. Well, Ingrid and I will leave you and Ale to talk on your own. If you ever need funny company instead of serious company I am always here.” You hold onto your laugh smirking.
“Alright León, keep it moving.” You joke back and watch the couple leave.
You think back to what recovery is going to be like. A very long journey. It seems your girlfriend notices your thoughts.
“Shh, you’ll be fine and as Mapi said you’ll come back better.”
“Thanks Ale.” She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips softly.
- - - - -
The next few weeks are tough, you feel as though you’re useless. Alexia has all this stuff on her plate already and you’re just another one. However she is always quick to shut those thoughts down. No matter how moody, or how angry you got at her. She stayed, just like she promised she would.
Who knows what the future holds, maybe something, maybe nothing. What does matter though? Is who you go there with. For you it’s Ale. It will always be Alexia.
—————————————————————————
PART 2 - here
also i did say i was sick now i’m feeling better.. physically (not mentally since i just wrote this fic)
845 notes · View notes
euphoria-looney · 23 days ago
Text
"Please quench my urge to see you. da-da-darling." DARLING DANCE by Kairikibear
So much more. Journal Entry #45 8th Journal
Divider Creds: @anitalenia
Tumblr media
Erm, I'm kind of getting concerned with the treatment [M/D] and [D/D] get.
So, like, yes. My opinion is changing of them but that's not why I wrote this entry.
Get this right, I was wondering where Alfred was the other day since it's our weekly baking day.
He says the most polite and elegant way ever.
"Oh [D/D] decided to rebel by running away so I had to make a medicated sedative for the other masters."
My dear father, what are you talking about 😨.
AND THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME.
Including [M/D] if she runs away they immediately go into hunting mode.
I get it, I'm at no place to talk about this but... guys.
Are [M/D] and [D/D] okay..? I know mentally probably not.. physically also probably not, like with the amount of drugs getting forced into them is absolutely mindblowing.
Sometimes in these moments, I wonder what mindset I had to crave for their affection? Am I still craving it? ... No??? I'm still hurt that they immediately loved the two but to this extent?
Besides that, I made a Red Velvet cake for the baking day and gave a slice to Alfred... I may be giving one each to [M/D] and [D/D] for their troubles. I was planning to make Tiramisu at first but I knew I would eat all of it before I could share it with Alfie so I decided against it...
Anyway, I just wanted to share my concerns and baking ability.
Also, I'm pretty sure there's a pimple on my back and it's bugging me.
Your favorite,
[name] Wayne(?)
Tumblr media
On the topic of yan!batfamily I most of the time notice then MC/Darling getting drugged and have to bring it up and also had been journaling and realized how off-topic I get when I do that, one second I'm talking about school and the next I'm talking about my favorite song, Idk, am I the only one who writes on my journal like how I talk to my friends?
Tumblr media
Anyway, I'm going to actually start writing for my Wattpad fanfic.
Also, I wasn't sure if should tag people for this post or even put it in my masterlist, so uhh, someone comment if I should it'll go in a category like [name]'s unhinged journaling or smth.
Okay, bye. 🫶🏻
Tumblr media
150 notes · View notes