#finally made a doctors appointment for my heart rate

[fish-and-forbear]

Really just hope things will be okay. I know they will be, I know I have always done all I could with the information and means I had but.

Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.

Just need to learn to forgive myself and move on, with many many things

- Fisher

[levisolace]

am i making you feel sick? (zayne x f!reader)

WC: 15,691 Pairing: zayne x reader, subtle sylus x reader Warnings: graphic depictions of illness Genre: Angst, (Possibly) Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease AU Summary: You escape Linkon to heal from the deadly Hanahaki Disease, your unspoken love for Dr. Zayne threatening to consume you from within. Note: Hi! I had this in my drafts for a while since Sylus came out. Figured to finally post it. Here's my first LaDs fic. Hope you all like it. This is only a one-shot btw.

ao3 link

You don’t know when it started. Maybe it was over the meals you’ve shared, or when you began to know much more about him, how he loved sweets, how he graduated half the time it should’ve, or maybe it’s just how truly and deeply kind and caring he is. In the stolen glances you gave him whenever he was in your presence, you admired how beautiful he was. His raven black hair, hazel green eyes, and broad shoulders. Oh, his beautiful shoulders. It was your dream to have your hands running through them. 

It was perfect. You two shared a history from your childhood and more than a decade later, you were brought back once again in your adult years. Like it was fated. Like stars have aligned for the two of you. Maybe it was the knowledge of the “you meet people twice theory” that made your delusion worse. Maybe it was when you began to think of scenarios of you and him before you went to sleep at night. 

To make it short, you don’t know when you started falling in love with your primary care physician, Dr. Zayne. 

It was fun at first, the idea of falling in love. He is your friend, no matter how busy he is, if he can, he gives his free time to you. In the midst of all of that, you began to question yourself if the way you see him was more than a friend. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself blushing at every interaction, every text, every post and comment he made, and every doctor appointment whenever he would even slightly touch you. Your heart rate sped up and he probably noticed that too. You were practically transparent with how easy you are to read.

He was the total opposite.

He’s stoic and unreadable. Half of the time, you don’t know if he’s serious or joking. Most of the time, it’s the former. He would always find ways to scold you on how you take care of yourself. 

Still, you hoped. You made yourself believe that underneath all that caring was an underlying emotion that comes as more than a physician and a friend. And so you let yourself fall into that deep abyss of longing. Love. It’s such a common word, one that is used lightly but holds the weight of the world and humanity. 

But you couldn’t be more wrong.

You stepped out of the cab and onto the rain-slicked pavement of Linkon, the familiar hum of the city wrapping around you like an old friend. The night was young, but the streets were already alive with their own rhythm—flashes of neon lights, distant sirens, and the ever-present murmur of conversations blending into a cacophony that was both chaotic and comforting.

You tugged your leather jacket tighter against the cool evening breeze, your thoughts racing faster than your heartbeat. After weeks in the field—tracking elusive prey through shadowed forests and braving the bite of unforgiving weather—returning to the city was like slipping into a well-worn pair of boots. But tonight, the excitement in your step had nothing to do with the urban landscape you missed. It was all about the man waiting for you at the clinic.

Dr. Zayne had been a constant in your thoughts even while you were miles away, slinking through the underbrush and facing dangers of wanderers. Your encounters were always memorable, punctuated by shared glances and conversations that left you with a giddy sense of longing.

Your boots clacked against the pavement as you hurried down the street, the soft patter of rain masking her footsteps. You reached the glass door of the clinic, pausing for a moment to smooth your hair and then pushed inside. 

The lobby was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lights and the soft hum of a vending machine in the corner. You approached the reception desk, where a young woman was looking up with a smile. 

“Hi, I’m here to see Dr. Zayne,” you tell her. 

“Ah, Miss (L/N), right?” the receptionist asked. You’ve probably been here too many times to not be known. Is that a bad thing? Probably. But you don’t mind.

You nod. “Ah, I think Dr. Zayne stepped out for   dinner,” she informs you. “You can wait here. He should be coming back soon.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you,” you replied, giving her a smile. 

You cursed to yourself. You probably shouldn’t have tried to surprise him with your unprecedented visit and just texted him beforehand. It’s still pretty early for his usual dinner time despite it being dark already. With how busy and needed he is in the hospital, it resulted in him having inconsistent meal times, very much similar to your line of work. You hoped to catch him before he ate and ask him out for a meal like you always do. But that’s not happening tonight. 

As you wait patiently in the lobby while looking through social media posts on your phone, a nurse you know well approached you and called you by your name. You look up to see Yvonne smiling at you. You gave her a genuine smile back, happy to see an acquaintance. 

“Hey Ms. Hunter, you here for Dr. Zayne?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I heard he’s out for dinner. I just got back from a mission and wanted to see him because I had to skip an appointment during the week,” you inform her.

She places her hand in the pockets of her scrub as she thinks, her eyes widening for a moment when she remembers. “Yeah, I think he ate dinner with Dr. Emma.” 

“Dr. Emma?” The unfamiliar name rolls off your tongue in a bad way. This is the first time you’ve heard of her. 

“Yeah, she’s a new doctor who transferred here a while ago. A genius doctor too, maybe that’s why she quickly hit it off with Dr. Zayne,” she pouts. 

That’s when your heart sank. A dinner date. The words echoed in your mind, crushing the small spark of hope you had been nurturing. You forced a smile as Yvonne excused herself out of the quick conversation, dropping it as quickly as she fades from your view. 

Just like that, your excitement bubbled down into an unknown pain. It was like humiliation but something else completely. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you even if no one was watching you—like they knew you were here for Zayne but he was already with another woman. But they don’t know that. You’re just another patient here. Thinking of that truth should’ve comforted you. But somehow, it felt worse. 

With a heavy heart, you went back to your apartment without seeing the doctor you were waiting for.

One sad dinner by yourself later, you found yourself lying on your bed, the exhaustion of the preceding mission finally dawned on you. The adrenaline of excitement has worn out, leaving you with a heavy feeling of disappointment and body ache. 

Your phone dinged with a notification and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to move a limb. It’s a wonder how you never felt this way after a mission before even if you were injured. It’s like something was weighing you down but you couldn’t pinpoint where. 

The phone dinged a few times more and you ignored it, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. You guess it was just the group chat from work. Tomorrow and the weekend are your days off anyway. They can forgive you for not responding for a few hours. 

It was then that your phone started to ring, indicating a phone call. Groaning in annoyance, you will yourself to reach for your phone by the bedside table, picking it up hastily while your eyes are closed.

“Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Are you alright?” The familiar deep voice asked without missing a beat, tone laced with concern. Your eyes widen, looking at the caller ID. It was Zayne. The messages were also from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” Everything felt lighter than it was, your tone involuntarily chipper than it was a second ago. It was like your body is uncontrollable when it comes to him. You sit up on your bed to speak to him more clearly. 

“What happened?” He asked again, eager to get the point.

“What do you mean?” 

“Why did you leave the hospital? The nurse told me you were here to see me and then left,” he asked further. You don’t answer for a moment, unsure on what to lie about. You can’t exactly tell him the truth. 

“Oh… yeah. I just got back from a mission but you weren’t there so I left,” you explained. 

There was silence from a moment like he was thinking and you wish that you knew what it was about. Like most of the time, you wished to enter his mind and see him wholly. 

“...Are you hurt?” The eagerness dropped from his tone, replaced by the softness that you adored partnered with the deep concern that he showed you multiple times. It’s a softness that you found yourself used to, something that pertains to a relationship more than a doctor and his patient. 

“I’m alright, Dr. Zayne,” you answer truthfully but your voice betrays you and you curse yourself in your mind, knowing that the attentive doctor would notice. 

“You don’t sound alright,” he states the obvious, the subtle sarcasm noted in his answer. 

“I really am, Zayne. I just felt bad about missing the appointment because of the mission,” you say as you pull and fold your legs closer to yourself, hugging them to your chest. You hear his soft sigh on the other line and you let out an involuntary chuckle, picturing his disappointed and crunched forehead while he sat on his office desk. 

“Do you want to come in tomorrow?” He asked and your heart jumped at the question. The thought of seeing him tomorrow giving you a boost of serotonin. 

“Do I need to? I really am fine,” you answer truthfully, pertaining to your physical health.

“Nevermind. You’re coming in tomorrow. That’s an order from your doctor,” he commands and you chuckle again and roll your eyes but enjoy his nagging nonetheless. 

“Fine, Dr. Zayne. I’ll come in tomorrow.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” and he hangs up.

That night, you sleep with a heavy heart no longer but the thought of another woman still lingers at the back of your mind. You push the thoughts away, focusing on the thought that you will see him tomorrow. 

Just for tonight, you’ll dream of those green eyes. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You sit in front of him, legs crossed, your frilly skirt brushing against your knees as you try to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Zayne flips through your chart, his brow furrowed in concentration, like every detail of your health is a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

“Everything looks fine,” he says at last, his voice calm and steady.

You smile, forcing a lightness to your tone that doesn’t quite match how you feel inside. “Told you. I’m a good Hunter.”

His lips twitch into a half-smile. “You are. But that doesn’t mean you should throw yourself at any wanderer that crosses your path.”

You pout, sticking out your bottom lip in mock protest. “I wasn’t throwing myself at anyone. You make it sound like I’m reckless.”

Zayne chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not reckless—just a bit too fearless sometimes.”

The playful back-and-forth between you has become so natural, but today it feels different. You’d dressed up a little for this checkup, abandoning your usual jeans for something more delicate, more thoughtful, hoping he might notice. Maybe today would be the day you’d muster up the courage to say something—anything—to let him know how you feel. But before you can respond, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

Zayne glances up, his face softening instantly. “Come in.”

The door opens, and a woman steps inside, holding a small container in her hands. She’s striking, with short auburn hair that falls just past her ears and eyes that shine with quiet warmth. She’s dressed in a simple but elegant medical uniform, her steps confident and unhurried as she approaches the desk.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at Zayne. “I brought you something.” She sets the candy container down in front of him, a fond look passing between them.

Zayne’s face lights up—genuinely lights up—in a way you’ve rarely seen. He glances over at you, as if only just realizing you’re still in the room. “Y/N, this is Dr. Emma Lin. She’s—uh—one of the new doctors here at Akso Hospital.”

Emma gives you a polite nod, her smile warm but distant, like she’s already figured out who you are and where you stand. You manage to smile back, but your throat tightens painfully. You can feel the familiar weight of something blooming deep inside, a pressure building that you’ve worked so hard to suppress.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Emma says lightly, looking back at Zayne. “I just thought you could use a snack.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zayne replies, his tone softening even more. “Thanks for this.”

Emma lingers for a moment, her hand lightly brushing Zayne’s shoulder before she finally turns and heads out, leaving the room in an awkward, heavy silence.

You stare at the closed door, a pit forming in your stomach. So this is her.

“She’s nice,” you say, forcing the words out even though they taste bitter on your tongue. “Seems like she cares a lot.”

Zayne clears his throat, his gaze dropping back to the chart, though he’s clearly not reading it anymore. “Yeah. She’s great. We’ve been, uh… seeing each other.”

There it is. The confirmation you didn’t want but were already expecting.

“Oh,” you say softly, keeping your tone as casual as you can manage. “That’s… that’s nice, Zayne.”

He glances up at you, his brows knitting together as if he can sense the sudden shift in your mood, the hurt you’re trying so hard to hide. “It’s still pretty new,” he adds, almost as if he’s apologizing. “We’re just trying it out.” 

You swallow, the familiar burn in your throat intensifying. You can feel the petals—sharp and brittle—pressing against your chest, but you can’t let him see. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m happy for you,” you lie, forcing a smile that feels like it’s cracking at the edges. “You deserve someone great.”

Zayne watches you closely, his gaze searching, but you don’t let anything slip. Not a single hint of the pain coursing through you.

“I should probably go,” you say abruptly, standing up a little too quickly. “Thanks for the checkup, Zayne.”

He stands as well, concern flickering in his eyes, but you’re already heading for the door before he can ask any more questions.

“Y/N,” he calls after you, his voice hesitant, but you wave it off, turning with a bright, practiced smile.

“I’m fine, really. Just… have a lot on my mind. See you next time.”

And with that, you’re out the door, your chest tightening with every step as you leave the clinic. The air outside feels cold against your skin, the pressure building inside you unbearable. You let out a shaky breath, but little did you know, it’s too late to stop it.

The days dragged on like you were on autopilot. Your feelings weren’t new. They’ve always been there. Since you had a tiny crush on him in your childhood, you actually believed that you had a chance. 

The memory of Zayne's words, spoken only a few weeks ago, echoed in your mind. His voice, usually so warm and reassuring, had been hesitant, almost apologetic, as he shared the news. He'd told you about the new doctor he was seeing, her name a blur in your memory, her face a hazy silhouette in your imagination.

You hadn't meant to linger, to let the silence stretch into an uncomfortable void. You'd forced a smile, a laugh, even though your heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. You’d congratulated him, your voice a shaky whisper, but inside, you felt as though the world had been flipped on its side.

The world you’d been building in your head, a world where perhaps, just maybe, your unspoken feelings for Zayne could blossom into something more, had crumbled in an instant. You had been so careful, so cautious, not wanting to jeopardize the easy familiarity that had always existed between you. But now, the fragile hope you had clung to was gone, shattered into a million pieces.

The image of Zayne’s smile, reserved only for you, the way he’d always look at you with a warmth that seemed to encompass you entirely, now felt like a cruel mirage. The way his hand had lingered on yours, just a moment longer than necessary, had felt like a shared secret, a silent promise. Now, the memory of that touch sent a pang of longing through you, a sharp, unfamiliar ache.

You couldn't explain the sudden urge to avoid the clinic, the way even the faintest scent of disinfectant made you feel dizzy. You’d found yourself choosing the more dangerous missions, seeking solace in the adrenaline rush of battle, a temporary distraction from the growing unease in your heart.

You tried to push the thoughts away, to bury the hurt beneath layers of duty and responsibility. But it was a losing battle. The emptiness you felt, the ache in your chest, it was a constant companion now, a gnawing emptiness that refused to be ignored.

You couldn't ignore the growing fatigue, the way you seemed to be catching every bug that went around, the way your lungs felt tight, as though they were constantly filled with a suffocating weight. But you pushed it all aside, attributing it to the stress of your job, the relentless pressure of protecting the city. You were a Hunter, one with duties to protect the people from Wanderers. You couldn’t afford to be sick. Not when their threats are more rampant than before.

You need more distraction. You need to forget about Zayne. 

The world felt muted, the colors drained. 

The harsh fluorescent lights of the Hunter HQ buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on the cluttered desk where you sat, sifting through reports. A wave of nausea, unexpected and sharp, rolled over you. You clutched your stomach, a bead of sweat forming on your brow. This wasn't the usual post-mission exhaustion. This felt… different.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Tara asks in concern as she sees you practically about to hurl. 

You excused yourself, hurrying to the nearest restroom. The familiar scent of disinfectant did little to ease the churning in your gut. As you leaned over the sink, a wave of violent coughing seized you, racking your body. Something lodged in your throat, a burning sensation rising with each heave.

At first, it just worried you. Your protocore syndrome must’ve worsened. But that can’t be. You’ve gotten stronger since you’ve been in the N109 zone and you’ve been fine even before that.

Finally, you coughed up a small, crimson-tinged object – a delicate, blood-red rose petal.

Panic tightened your chest. Hanahaki. The whispered fear that had always lurked at the edges of your mind, now a stark reality. The illness that bloomed in your lungs, a physical manifestation of unrequited love, a slow, agonizing death. It was a rare disease, so rare that people even begin to question if they still exist. But they do. And now, you are an example.

Your world seemed to tilt on its axis. Zayne. His warm smile, his kind eyes, the way he always seemed to know just what to say, the way he’d gently patch you up after each mission, his hands tracing the scars on your arms with an unspoken tenderness that had always made your heart skip a beat.

You remembered the day he'd told you, his voice softer than usual, about the new doctor he was dating. The way his hand had lingered on the door handle, a touch of hesitancy in his eyes. The way he’d looked away as he mentioned the woman’s name. The woman he’d spent months, maybe even years, telling you stories about.

But this couldn’t be. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a Hunter, a soldier, a protector. You weren’t supposed to be felled by something as fragile and fleeting as love. You weren’t supposed to be… heartbroken.

The fear gnawed at you, a cold, sharp blade against your insides. Your vision blurred, the bright lights of the HQ fading to an almost unbearable white. You clung to the sink, your mind reeling, knowing that with each cough, each petal you coughed up, your life was slowly fading away.

The days dragged on, each one blending into the next, a constant reminder of your hidden struggle. Tara’s worried glances were becoming harder to ignore. She’d been your best friend since you started hunting together, and her concern was palpable, hovering like a cloud over your head.

“You need to take a break,” she pressed one evening after a long mission, her voice low as you both cleaned your gear in the dim light of the supply room. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not invincible, Y/N.”

You waved her off, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to your own ears. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. The last mission was tough, that’s all.” But deep down, you knew you were lying, and Tara could see right through it.

Your nights were plagued with coughing fits, sharp and painful, like a bitter reminder of the flowers blooming within you. Each cough felt like a warning, a desperate call for attention, yet you buried it beneath a layer of denial. You pushed through the pain, stubbornly refusing to let it slow you down.

But then Captain Jenna called you into her office, and you felt the weight of her piercing gaze as soon as you stepped inside. She was a force of nature—stern but compassionate, always demanding the best from her team. The moment she closed the door, you could sense the shift in atmosphere.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice steady but filled with concern. “You’re not yourself. I’ve noticed the way you falter during missions, how pale you’ve become. It’s like you’re a shadow of who you used to be. What’s going on?”

You met her gaze, your heart racing as you weighed your options. You could tell her the truth about your condition, about the Hanahaki disease that was slowly consuming you. But could you bear to reveal your secret? The love you held for Zayne, the pain of watching him with another woman—it felt too heavy, too raw to lay bare.

“It’s nothing, Captain. Just a bit worn out,” you said, your voice stronger than you felt.

“Worn out?” she repeated, her brow furrowing in disbelief. “This isn’t just exhaustion, Y/N. You’re struggling. I need you at your best. The team needs you at your best. If you can’t do this, I need to know.”

The pressure built inside you, and you fought the urge to scream, to let it all out. “I can handle it. I promise. Just give me a bit more time.”

Jenna studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

You nodded, though her words felt like a lifeline you were too proud to grasp. As you left her office, the walls felt like they were closing in. The facade you’d built was crumbling, and you were running out of places to hide.

The next few days were a blur of missions, each one feeling heavier than the last. Tara’s worried looks became more frequent, and you could see the doubt creeping into her expression. You tried to put on a brave face, but the more you pushed yourself, the worse you felt. Your coughs grew worse, punctuated by a metallic taste that clung to your throat.

One evening, you finally reached your breaking point. You collapsed onto your bed after another grueling mission, your body trembling with exhaustion. Your hands trembled as you brushed your fingers across the petals that had begun to manifest along your throat. Each one was a reminder of your unspoken feelings, a testament to the love you couldn’t bear to confess.

As you lay there, Tara knocked on your door before entering without waiting for a response. She took one look at you and rushed to your side, her eyes wide with concern. “Y/N! You look awful! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

You turned your head away, biting your lip to keep from crying. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Stop lying to me!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with frustration. “You’re clearly not okay. You need to see a doctor. If you won’t talk to Jenna, then you’ll at least talk to someone else.”

At that moment, the walls you've built around yourself finally crumbled, and the truth began to pour out. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tara! I’m just… I’m just trying to keep it together.”

Her gaze softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you.”

You felt the warmth of her support, and for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it. “I… I don’t know how to explain it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t want to burden you with it.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re never a burden to me,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

With a shaky breath, you finally relented, the weight of your secret pressing down on you like an anchor. “I think I have Hanahaki disease. It’s… it’s because of Zayne.”

Tara’s eyes widened in shock. “What? How long have you known?”

“Since the checkup,” you admitted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t tell him. I can’t let him know how I feel. And if I don’t have the surgery, the flowers will keep growing. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Y/N…” Tara began, her voice a soothing balm against your anxiety. “You need to take care of yourself first. If Zayne cares about you like you think he does, he’ll understand.”

The idea felt foreign, a small glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. But would he really care? Would it matter to him?

You shook your head, the thoughts swirling like a tempest in your mind. “I can’t go back to him. Not like this.”

Tara leaned closer, determination shining in her eyes. “Then let’s go to the hospital and get you the help you need. You don’t have to face this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time in days, the thought of facing your illness didn’t feel as daunting. Maybe there was still a chance to reclaim a piece of yourself. Taking what Tara said by heart, you stood up, ready to fight the battle you’d been avoiding for too long.

You need to come up with a plan without involving Zayne. He doesn’t need to know and carry the guilt of you being sick. He’s a doctor, for fuck’s sake. How could he bear to treat you when he learns that he’s the reason for it? Or worse, will he have to be the one to  surgically remove the plant growing inside you to completely remove him for life?

After a long period of silence, you turn to Tara with dried tears in your eyes, determined and decided.

“Tara, I need you to listen to me about what I’m about to do.”

Filing a leave of absence from the Hunters Association felt like the hardest thing you’d done in a while, but it was the first necessary step. You expected resistance—Jenna rarely let anyone take time off easily, especially not with everything happening in Linkon City. But to your surprise, she granted your request immediately, no questions asked. Maybe she’d seen more of your exhaustion than you realized. Or maybe she knew this was something you needed to do alone.

Once the leave was secured, you contacted Sylus, the only one you know who could help you get into the N109 zone safely, a place few dared to go unless they had business on the other side of the law. He was your last hope for hiding away from everything: Zayne, your disease, and the life you couldn’t bear to face anymore. You expected him to hesitate, maybe even refuse to help, but Sylus responded almost immediately, granting you safe passage to his home without a second thought.

“You look rough, sweetie,” Sylus said the moment you stepped through the door. His nickname for you, one you used to find annoying and mocking, now felt oddly comforting. But today, there was no mockery in his tone. Only concern.

You glanced up at him, feeling the weight of his crimson eyes studying you. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was seeing you, seeing how much you’d changed since the last time you stayed in N109. Your skin had lost its color, your lips were dry and cracked, and your once sharp, determined eyes had dulled with fatigue and the weight of secrets.

Sylus sighed, stepping aside to let you pass. “You know where your room is.”

You nodded weakly, mumbling a soft “thank you” as you dragged yourself through the dimly lit hallway. Luke and Keiran, Sylus’s trusted associates, were already by your side, taking the backpack from your shoulder and exchanging worried glances as they guided you to your room.

The room was exactly as you remembered it—small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Sylus’s house. It had been your safe haven once before, back when the pressures of the outside world had gotten too heavy. But this time, it felt different. You were running from more than just stress. You were running from yourself.

Luke placed your bag on the chair while Keiran hovered near the door, his usual mischievous demeanor replaced by concern. “Are you hungry?” Keiran asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head, barely able to muster the energy to respond. The truth was, you hadn’t felt hunger in days, the constant nausea from the flowers growing inside you making food seem like an afterthought.

Keiran exchanged a glance with Luke before stepping closer. “You need to eat something, Y/N. You’re looking… worse than usual.”

You couldn’t help but give a weak smile at his bluntness. “I’ll eat later,” you promised, though you knew you probably wouldn’t.

Luke stayed silent and didn’t press the issue. Instead, he handed you a glass of water, and you took it gratefully, sipping slowly as the two of them busied themselves tidying the room. You could feel their unspoken worry, the way they moved more carefully around you, like you might break at any moment.

“Anything else you need, just let us know,” Luke said quietly before they both left, closing the door behind them.

Alone at last, you collapsed onto the bed, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. The room felt too quiet, too still, and your thoughts began to spiral. You’d made it to N109. You were away from Zayne, away from the Association, from everything. But the weight in your chest—the flowers—remained. You could feel them growing, their roots twisting deeper with every unspoken word, every feeling you couldn’t voice.

You lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long you could keep running. How long until the disease consumed you completely?

There was a soft knock at the door, and you turned your head to see Sylus leaning against the frame, holding a tray of what looked like a warm bowl of noodles. 

“Not eating, huh?” he said, his voice low. “I figured. Got you something anyway.” He walked in and placed the tray on the side table. You were right. It was one of your favorites when you stayed here before.

You smiled weakly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Sylus shrugged, his crimson eyes still locked on you, sharper now, as if he could see the weight you were carrying. He goes back to lean against the door frame, watching you like you were going to break at any second. “I do when you come back looking like death warmed over. What’s going on, Y/N?”

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill everything—the disease, your love for Zayne, the way it was slowly killing you. But the words stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a tired, “It’s complicated.”

Sylus’s gaze didn’t waver. “Everything’s complicated. Doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it.”

For a moment, you considered it, but then the thought of Zayne flashed through your mind. The image of him with Emma, happy, unburdened by your love, and the flowers in your chest tightened.

“I’ll be fine,” you said instead, though you weren’t sure you believed it yourself.

Sylus stared at you for another long moment before sighing. “Well, you’re here now. Rest up. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

He pushed off the doorframe and left you alone again, but his words lingered in the air. We’ll figure it out.

But what if there was nothing left to figure out? What if the only solution was letting the flowers take you?

The silence of the room settled over you like a heavy blanket, pressing down on your chest until it was almost unbearable. Every breath felt strained, like the air itself was growing thicker. It has been a few days. You hadn’t told Sylus, or anyone for that matter, the full truth of your condition. But you could feel it—the flowers—growing stronger, more vicious by the day. Sylus has ordered a doctor to come to your room, just to check up on you. Just as you predicted, doctors are a bit hard to come by in this area. The doctor knows little about Hanahaki disease, so you told him it was your Protocore Disease accompanied by accumulated stress from work. He gave you suppressants and asked Sylus to monitor you for now.

Hours passed in a blur of restless half-sleep, until a sharp pain in your chest jolted you awake. You pressed a hand to your ribs, wincing as a violent cough wracked your body, more intense than any you’d had before. Panic surged through you as the pressure built in your throat, forcing you out of bed.

You stumbled into the bathroom, hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the sink. Another cough ripped through you, harder this time, and you doubled over, gasping. You felt something sharp and foreign rise in your throat—something too large, too wrong.

With a shuddering breath, you coughed again, and this time, something solid came up. You coughed repeatedly but it would just not come out. Tears stream down your face from the pain and frustration. You began to help it by pulling it out with your fingers. And finally, it came out.

You leaned over the sink, spitting out the mass into the basin, your heart pounding in your chest. When you looked down, you froze.

A stem of thorns, slick with blood, curled like a dark vine in the sink. Each thorn gleamed under the dim light, jagged and cruel. The petals had been bad enough, but this—this was something else. Something worse. You couldn’t ignore it any longer. The disease was advancing, and it was doing so faster than you’d anticipated.

Panic surged through you as you backed away from the sink, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was too late. You hear that damn bird cawing outside the door. 

The door creaked open, and Sylus stepped into the bathroom, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw you. He was still dressed fully like he just came back from outside. He must’ve had a meeting late at night, a normal occurrence in this place. Mephisto, sits by his shoulder, cawing like he was the one who led Sylus to you. 

“Y/N?” His voice was low but urgent, the edge of concern sharpening his usually calm demeanor.

You turned, eyes wide, your hand still pressed to your mouth as if you could hide the evidence. But it was no use. His gaze flickered from you to the sink, where the thorny stem still lay, stark against the white porcelain. There was blood all over your mouth, dripping on your hands and neck.

“Sweetie…” His voice dropped, softer now, but laced with something darker. “What the hell is going on?”

You couldn’t speak. The words stuck in your throat, tangled with fear and shame. Sylus crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached the sink. He stared at the thorns for a moment before looking back at you, his face hardening with realization.

“You’ve got Hanahaki, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a truth you could no longer deny.

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, your hands shaking as you gripped the edge of the sink for support. “I… I didn’t want to tell anyone. I thought I could handle it,” your voice was hoarse, throat swollen as you tried so hard to speak.

“Handle it?” Sylus’s voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. “You’re coughing up thorns, Y/N, rose thorns. You do know that rose is one of the deadliest strains of Hanahaki, don’t you? This isn’t something you can just ‘handle.’ Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

You swallowed hard, the taste of blood still lingering red in your mouth. “Because… because it’s because of Zayne.”

Sylus froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Zayne? You mean—”

You nodded, the confession spilling out like a dam breaking. “I’ve loved him for so long, Sylus, and I can’t stop. But he’s with someone else now. And I… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t put that on him, not when he’s happy.”

Sylus’s expression darkened, and he let out a low, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, you’re killing yourself over him. You should have told me sooner.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath, the pain in your chest growing sharper. “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought… I thought I could live with it, but it’s getting worse. The flowers, they’re… they’re spreading.”

Sylus stepped closer, his hands gripping your shoulders gently but firmly. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll figure something out. But first, we need to get you to a doctor. A real one, not some back-alley medic.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “If I get the surgery, it’ll remove the feelings entirely. I won’t feel anything for Zayne anymore. And… and I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of that.”

Sylus’s expression softened, the anger fading as he saw the pain in your eyes. “I get it. But you have to take care of yourself first. This disease—it’s going to kill you if you don’t do something. I’m not letting you waste away like this.”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. But the thought of losing your feelings for Zayne, of letting go of the love that had been a part of you for so long—it felt like a different kind of death.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Sylus nodded, his hands still steady on your shoulders. “I know. But I’ve got you, sweetie. We’ll get through this.”

You nodded, feeling the tears fall freely now. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else. To let Sylus’s strength carry you, if only for a little while.

“We’ll get you to a doctor in the N109 zone,” he said quietly. “Someone who can help, someone who won’t ask too many questions. But after that… you need to make a decision, Y/N. Whether you want the surgery or not, you need to choose. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”

You nodded, knowing that the time for running was over. You couldn’t keep pretending this wasn’t happening. The flowers had taken root, and now it was up to you to decide how to survive.

Zayne sat at his desk, staring down at the empty appointment slot on his tablet. It had been weeks since you missed your first check-up, and at first, he didn’t think much of it—Hunters had unpredictable schedules, after all. But then you missed the next one. And the one after that. Now, weeks had passed without so much as a text from you, and an uneasy feeling had settled deep in his gut. You were never this irresponsible about your health.

He tried reaching out—texts, calls—but all had gone unanswered. That was when real concern started to gnaw at him. The you he knew wouldn’t just vanish like that, especially not from something as crucial as your medical check-ups. Something was wrong.

He didn’t like the feeling. In fact, it twisted in his chest, growing heavier by the day. He’d dealt with plenty of patients who disappeared on him, but you were different. You always kept in touch, always made an effort to keep things light even when you were battered from a mission. But now? Silence.

Sighing, Zayne grabbed his coat and decided to take matters into his own hands. He needed to check on you in person. He knew where your apartment was—he’d dropped off medicine there more times than he could count after your particularly rough assignments. His job required him to keep an eye on his patients, but with you, it was more than that. He hated the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you.

The streets leading to your apartment were quiet as he made his way over, the familiar hum of the city blending into the background. His mind raced as he walked up the stairs to your door, running over all the possibilities: maybe you were hurt, maybe you were sick, maybe you were avoiding him. That last one gnawed at him harder than the others.

When he finally reached your apartment, Zayne rang the doorbell, waiting for a response. Silence. He knocked this time, but there was no movement, no sound coming from within. His heart sank a little, and he tried the handle. Locked.

“Y/N?” he called out, pressing his ear to the door. Nothing.

He felt his pulse quicken. He checked the windows, walked around the perimeter, hoping for some sign that you were there. But the place was eerily still. It was clear you hadn’t been home for a while. The anxiety that had been simmering in the back of his mind began to boil over.

Zayne pulled out his phone and scrolled to Tara’s number. If anyone knew where you were, it would be her. You were inseparable as fellow Hunters, practically glued to each other on and off the field. If something was wrong, Tara would have noticed.

The phone rang, each buzz tightening the knot in his stomach, until finally, Tara’s voice came through.

“Zayne? What’s up?”

“Hey, Tara,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Have you seen Y/N lately? She’s missed a couple of appointments, and I just went by her apartment. She’s not there, and she hasn’t been answering my calls.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Zayne’s chest tightened at the silence. Tara wasn’t usually one to hesitate.

“Zayne…” Her voice softened. “She’s on leave.”

“Leave?” His brow furrowed. “Since when? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She filed for leave about a week and a half ago,” Tara explained, her tone tinged with worry. “She hasn’t been herself lately. I mean, she’s not feeling well and went on sick leave… I figured she needed some time to recover, but I don’t know where she went.”

Zayne’s grip on his phone tightened. “Wait, she’s been sick?”

“I don’t know how bad, but it’s been getting worse. I tried to get her to rest, but you know Y/N. She’s stubborn. Always pushing herself too hard.” Tara sighed on the other end. “I haven’t been able to reach her since she left either. I thought maybe she just needed space, but… I don’t know, Zayne. She told me she’ll come back when she feels better.”

Zayne’s mind raced. Sick? That explained your recent absence from your appointments, but why hadn’t you come to him? Why hadn’t you said anything? And where the hell were you now? The idea of you out there, alone, battling something serious without any support—it made his stomach turn. He was supposed to be your physician. Who else could you trust more in this situation? 

“Thanks, Tara,” he said quickly. “If you hear from her, let me know immediately.”

“You too,” Tara said, her voice growing softer with concern. “I hope she’s okay.”

Zayne hung up, his thoughts swirling in a storm of worry and frustration. This wasn’t just a case of missing appointments. You were sick, and you hadn’t told anyone what it is that you’re feeling. Not Tara, not the Association, and not him. The thought of you out there somewhere, getting worse by the day, hit him hard.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He wasn’t going to let this slide. He needed to find you, and fast. And if you were too stubborn to ask for help, well, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it to you anyway. You didn’t get to disappear on him. Not like this. Not when it felt like something was so deeply, dangerously wrong.

The underground clinic in the N109 Zone was dimly lit, the scent of antiseptic and metal lingering in the air. Sylus sat beside you, his crimson eyes fixed on the makeshift doctor as she examined your condition. The doctor, a woman with worn hands and tired eyes, shook her head slightly, pulling back from the dim glow of her equipment. Sylus told you she’s the only one in the area who specializes in Hanahaki disease.

“It’s as I suspected,” she said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the hum of old machines. “The remedies I’ve given her will alleviate some of the symptoms—the coughing, the pain—but they won’t stop the disease. Hanahaki can only be cured one way.”

You knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. You felt it every time you coughed, every time a petal slipped from your lips, every time the thorny vines twisted deeper into your lungs. Hanahaki Disease was a cruel sickness. Only unrequited love could birth it, and only love returned could stop it.

Sylus stood, pacing the small clinic room, his fists clenched tight. “So what’s the point of this?” he growled. “You’re telling me she’s just going to keep getting worse?”

The doctor nodded grimly. “I’ve seen cases like this before. Without reciprocation, the flowers will continue to bloom. The disease will spread. It will choke her from the inside out.” Her eyes shifted to you, softening with pity. “She’ll have to make a choice soon. Either have the flowers removed surgically and forget her feelings entirely, or…”

“Or die,” you finished for her, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor didn’t respond, but the silence was enough.

Sylus slammed his fist into the nearest counter, rattling the tools scattered across its surface. “There has to be another way.”

The doctor said nothing. She’d already given her answer.

You shifted uncomfortably in the worn cot, feeling the sharp sting of another thorn scratching at your throat. You pressed a hand to your mouth, and when you pulled it away, you saw more petals—vibrant, soft, and hauntingly beautiful. The irony wasn’t lost on you: love, something meant to be pure and life-giving, was slowly killing you.

Sylus knelt beside you, his frustration giving way to concern. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N. You need real help.”

You met his gaze, seeing the worry etched deep into his features. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you could push through this. But the truth was, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going. Each day, the flowers bloomed more aggressively. Each day, you felt your strength slipping away. And the one person who could save you—Zayne—was unreachable, tangled in a new relationship, unaware of the feelings you’d been hiding.

“I don’t want to forget him,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Sylus’s expression darkened. “You’re dying for a man who doesn’t even know you’re dying because of him.”

You knew he was right. You’d seen Zayne’s smile when Emma came to his office. Zayne wasn’t yours to love, not anymore. Maybe he never was. But the thought of forgetting him entirely—of erasing every moment, every memory, every flicker of what could have been—was unbearable.

“I can’t,” you murmured. “Not yet.”

Sylus let out a slow breath, his frustration palpable, but he didn’t push further. He simply stayed by your side, silent but steadfast, offering the only comfort he could in this grim situation.

Days passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion. The makeshift remedies from the underground doctors kept the worst of the symptoms at bay, but they couldn’t stop the inevitable. The flowers continued to bloom, their roots digging deeper into your chest. You could feel them, a constant presence now, weighing down your lungs, stealing your breath little by little.

One night, as you lay in bed at Sylus’s place, you woke to another coughing fit. This time, it wasn’t just petals that came up—there were stems, long and twisted, covered in thorns. You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, feeling the flowers pressing against your ribs, desperate to grow, desperate to take over. You couldn’t stop them.

Sylus found you sitting on the bathroom floor, clutching your chest, petals and stems scattered across the tiles. He didn’t say anything at first. He just knelt beside you, his expression a mix of anger and helplessness.

“You don’t have much time left, do you?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how weak you’d become until that moment, how much the disease had taken from you. The once-strong Hunter now sat in a heap, broken by love that was never meant to be.

Sylus grabbed his phone, his voice tense as he called another doctor. “She needs real help. Now.”

But deep down, you both knew the truth. There was no real cure for Hanahaki—not unless Zayne’s love was returned. And that hope was slipping further out of reach with each passing day.

The dim lighting of Sylus’s home did little to soothe your nerves. After another coughing fit that left you weakened and breathless, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bouquet of petals in your hand—pale, soft, and soaked in blood. The weight of your condition felt more unbearable with every passing day, the flowers pushing closer to your heart, the thorns digging deeper into your lungs. Yet, even after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree to the surgery that would rip not only the flowers from you but also your feelings for Zayne.

There was a knock on the door. Sylus entered, followed closely by the underground doctor from the N109 zone. She carried a bag of supplies, her face etched with the same quiet concern you’d come to expect from her.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Sylus began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He took a seat beside you, his crimson eyes meeting yours. “The remedies we’ve been giving you… they’re not enough. You’re getting worse.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “But I’m not ready for the surgery. I can’t just… forget.”

The doctor stepped forward, glancing at Sylus before speaking. “Y/N, I understand your hesitation. But we’ve been talking, and there might be another option.”

You looked up, confused. “Another option?”

“It’s not a cure,” she clarified, her tone careful, “but there’s a treatment we could try. It won’t stop the disease entirely, but it could slow it down—buy you more time, at least. It would alleviate some of the more aggressive symptoms, like the coughing and the thorn growth.”

Your hope flickered. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Sylus, then spoke again. “The treatment is experimental, and the resources here in the N109 zone are… limited. We don’t have the proper equipment to administer it safely. You’d have to go back to Linkon City, to Akso Hospital.”

Linkon City. The name sent a jolt of fear and longing through you. It meant facing everything you were trying to run from—Zayne, his new relationship with Emma, the memories you were desperate to hold onto. But it also meant the possibility of relief, of not feeling like you were drowning every time you took a breath.

“How does it work?” you asked warily, your eyes darting between the doctor and Sylus.

“The treatment will slow the growth of the flowers,” she explained. “It won’t cure the disease, but it’ll suppress the symptoms long enough for us to manage them. It’ll give you more time to decide what you want to do.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his gaze heavy on you. “It’s the best option right now, Y/N. Better than sitting here, wasting away.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Going back to Linkon meant stepping right back into Zayne’s world. You didn’t know if you could handle seeing him again, knowing that you still loved him and that he had moved on. But the alternative—letting the disease run its course, with no other options left—was becoming harder to endure.

“What if it doesn’t work?” you asked quietly, fear creeping into your voice.

The doctor’s face softened. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie. But right now, doing nothing is a bigger risk.”

You clenched the sheets in your hands, the conflicting emotions inside you swirling like a storm. You wanted to believe that this new treatment would help, that it would give you enough time to figure things out. But deep down, a part of you knew this was a gamble.

“I don’t know if I can go back there,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Zayne… he…”

Sylus placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression firm but kind. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. But you can’t die like this, Y/N. Not when there’s still a chance, even if it’s a small one.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll arrange everything with Akso Hospital. They have the facilities and the staff to administer the treatment safely. You can be in and out, no one needs to know you’re there.”

You swallowed hard, the idea of returning to Linkon gnawing at you. But the weight of the disease was becoming too much to bear. If this treatment really could slow it down, even for a little while, maybe it was worth the risk. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not without trying something.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I’ll go.”

Sylus’s hand tightened on your shoulder briefly, a silent show of support. The doctor nodded, already pulling out her comms to make the necessary arrangements.

“I’ll set it up for tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll get you to Linkon, get the treatment started, and bring you back here before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

You nodded, but deep down, a part of you wasn’t convinced. Something about this didn’t feel right. But you were too exhausted, too weak to argue. For now, you would hold on to the hope that this “treatment” would give you the time you desperately needed. Time to figure out what came next—whether you could keep running from the love that was slowly killing you, or whether you had no choice but to let it go.

As the doctor left to make the arrangements, you lay back against the pillow, the weight of the decision settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had no idea what awaited you in Linkon. All you knew was that whatever happened, it would bring you closer to the inevitable.

Zayne sat in his office at Akso Hospital, his fingers tapping restlessly on the desk. Something had been gnawing at the back of his mind for weeks—Y/N’s sudden disappearance from her regular checkups, the silence she’d maintained despite his attempts to reach out. She had always been stubborn, always tough, but this felt different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

A message buzzed on his comm, interrupting his thoughts. It was from Greyson. Zayne opened the message, his eyes skimming over the text quickly:

“Heard a rumor. A Hunter suffering from Hanahaki Disease is being admitted to Akso. Thought you’d want to know.”

His heart stopped. Hanahaki Disease. He hadn’t heard of anyone in the Hunter circle suffering from it—no one except… No. It couldn’t be.

Zayne read the message again, his mind spinning. The only Hunter who had been coming to him regularly, the only one who had left without explanation, was Y/N. His mind raced, replaying every moment from their last appointment—the slight cough she tried to hide, the way she seemed distant, and the sudden leave she took from the Hunters Association. The pieces began to fit together like a cruel puzzle, one that painted a picture of her suffering in silence. 

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Y/N had been in love with someone, and the disease had taken root because the other hadn’t returned those feelings. And now, because of that, she was dying. Why didn’t she tell him? There could only be one reason why she didn’t ask for his help, her only physician. 

Zayne stood abruptly, knocking a few files off his desk as he scrambled to process what this meant. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over him—he had been blind to her feelings, caught up in his new relationship with Emma, while Y/N had been silently withering away. He was so in sync with Emma, so alike, that when she asked if they could try being more than colleagues and friends, he didn’t know why he actually agreed to date. He must tell you that. He must tell you that he…

Oh. He does. For so long. 

He couldn’t waste another second. Grabbing his coat, Zayne rushed out of his office, his mind focused on one thing: finding Y/N before it was too late.

He tapped his phone, dialing a doctor from the network who was set to oversee the patient’s treatment. The voice on the other end answered quickly.

“Zayne? What’s going on?”

“I need to know about the patient coming in with Hanahaki Disease. The Hunter,” Zayne said, his voice tense, barely controlled. “When are they being admitted?”

There was a pause, then the voice responded, hesitant. “That’s confidential information, Zayne. I can’t just—”

“It’s Y/N,” Zayne interrupted, his tone sharp. “She’s the one with Hanahaki Disease, isn’t she?”

Another pause, this one longer, more telling. “Zayne… I don’t know all the details, but… yes. She’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow.”

His heart dropped. Surgery. Hanahaki Disease could only be cured in two ways—either by having her love returned or by undergoing surgery to remove the flowers. But the surgery came with a cruel price: it would erase her feelings completely. Y/N wouldn’t just lose the disease; she would lose her love for him, and all the memories tied to it.

Zayne’s grip tightened on the comm. “Cancel the surgery. I’m coming.”

“Zayne, you can’t—”

“Cancel it,” Zayne said firmly. “I’m not going to let her go through with this without knowing the truth.”

He disconnected the call, his heart racing as he stormed down the hallways of the hospital. His thoughts were a whirlwind of panic and guilt. He should’ve noticed sooner. He should’ve been there for her. But there was still time—he had to believe that. He could fix this, he had to.

Zayne made his way to his car, his mind already racing ahead to what he would say to her. He had no idea how she would react, or if she even wanted to see him after everything, but he couldn’t let her go through with the surgery. He had to tell her how he felt. Because the truth was, somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had grown too.

As he drove through the city, his thoughts lingered on Y/N—on her strength, her stubbornness, and the way she had always kept her distance, even when he tried to get close. He had been blind, wrapped up in his own life, too focused on the surface of things. But now, he understood. And he wasn’t going to let her suffer in silence any longer.

Zayne’s mind was racing as the car sped towards Akso Hospital, the weight of everything crashing down on him. He didn’t know if she would even listen to him. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t let her go through that surgery without knowing that he was ready to fight for her—for them.

For the first time, Zayne realized just how much he cared for Y/N. How much she meant to him, and how blind he had been to the quiet way she had always been there. He couldn’t let her lose that, not when he could still save her.

Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving for Linkon and you couldn’t sleep. Your mind is everywhere until you found yourself once again in the bathroom. The dim, suffocating air of the room wrapped around you like a cold embrace. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as you hunched over the sink, your hands trembling as you help yourself hurl the white rose. The familiar metallic taste filled your mouth, but this time, it was worse—far worse than it had ever been.

When you finally dared to glance down, your heart nearly stopped. There, lying in the sink, was the largest bloom yet: a full white rose, its petals soft and fragile, but tangled in sharp, vicious thorns. Blood stained the delicate petals, your blood, and the sight of it sent a shudder down your spine. You clutched the edge of the sink for support, your vision swimming as pain tore through your chest.

This was it. The disease had progressed further than you had imagined. No makeshift remedy could stop it now. There was no time to experiment.

The thorns, tangled and sharp, had felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out. The flowers—the symbol of love that you couldn’t escape—had bloomed in full force, reminding you of the feelings you had tried so desperately to bury. Every cough felt like a knife in your lungs, but it was more than just physical pain. It was the heartbreak of loving someone who would never love you back.

You stumbled back from the sink, collapsing onto the floor, clutching your chest as you struggled to breathe. The decision you had been avoiding for so long now weighed heavily on you, inescapable. You couldn’t survive this. The love that had rooted itself deep within you was slowly killing you, and there was no way to keep running.

Sylus found you moments later, rushing into the bathroom when he heard your weak cries for help. His crimson eyes widened when he saw you, his usual stoic expression breaking with a mix of shock and concern. He knelt beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his voice low.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. “This… you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Your throat felt raw as you coughed again, tasting blood on your lips. You couldn’t even muster the strength to argue, your body finally betraying you in the worst way possible. Sylus helped you sit up, his eyes briefly glancing at the bloodied rose in the sink. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told you he understood.

“I can’t… I can’t fight it anymore,” you rasped, your voice barely audible. “I need the surgery.”

Sylus’s eyes flickered with something that almost looked like relief, but it was tempered by the knowledge of what the surgery meant. He knew the cost—the erasure of your feelings for Zayne, the love that had been such a painful part of you for so long. But he also knew there was no other choice now.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded weakly, wiping at your mouth with a shaking hand. “It’s the only way. I… I don’t want to die like this.”

Sylus exhaled slowly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “Then I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll leave for Linkon as soon as you’re ready.”

Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you managed to steady yourself with Sylus’s support. The weight of your decision settled over you like a heavy blanket—stifling, but somehow also freeing. You would lose your love for Zayne, that much was certain. But at least you would survive. At least the pain would stop. And you could get back to work. You could see him again and act like nothing happened. It would be better for everyone if you just didn’t feel. 

As you packed your things for the journey back to Linkon City, your heart felt strangely hollow. There was no going back now. You were going to let the surgery take away everything—the flowers, the thorns, and the love that had nearly consumed you. You would lose the part of yourself that had been tied to Zayne, but maybe that was for the best.

Maybe, in the end, forgetting him and his memories would be the only way to move forward.

With a final, shaky breath, you looked out the window, knowing this was your last chance to feel the weight of your love before it was ripped away forever.

The familiar, sterile scent of Akso Hospital greeted you the moment you arrived in your room. The journey back to Linkon had been long and exhausting, and your body felt more fragile than ever. Every breath seemed to rattle within your chest, the flowers pressing harder against your lungs as the disease worsened.

Sylus had helped you settle into the bed, his usual stoic demeanor faltering slightly as he glanced at you with concern. “I’ll check in on you later,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with an underlying care. “I can’t be seen much around here, you know that. If you need anything, let me know.”

You nodded weakly, barely managing to muster a response. All you could think about was the surgery—the thought of the flowers, and your feelings for Zayne, being torn out of you for good. The relief of that thought was tinged with sadness, a weight that settled heavily in your heart.

Just as you closed your eyes to try to find some rest, the door creaked open.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Y/N.”

His voice—steady, but holding the edge of something raw—cut through the quiet room like a blade. Your eyes snapped open, and you turned your head to see Zayne standing in the doorway, his expression torn between worry and something deeper, something more desperate.

You sat up slowly, your body protesting the movement as pain flared in your chest. “Zayne… how did you—”

“I found out,” he interrupted, stepping further into the room. “I found out about your condition, about the Hanahaki. I—” He faltered, as if the words were too heavy to form. His eyes were wide with something you hadn’t seen before—panic.

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Zayne, it’s too late. I’m getting the surgery.”

He froze, standing still as his eyes locked onto yours. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your heart clenched painfully at the words, but you forced yourself to keep your expression steady. “Yes, I do,” you replied softly. “I can’t keep living like this. These flowers, this pain… it’s killing me.”

Zayne’s eyes darkened, his hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t have to lose your feelings for me. You can survive this without giving that up.”

You let out a bitter laugh, your voice trembling with the effort. “How, Zayne? You don’t return my feelings, and this disease… it only stops when the love is mutual.” You met his gaze, trying to convey the finality of your decision. “I don’t have a choice.”

He took another step closer, his face tight with emotion. “But you do have a choice. You don’t need to do this surgery. We can figure something out—together.”

You shook your head, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’ve already decided. This is the only way.”

Zayne’s eyes were stormy with conflict. You could see the guilt eating away at him, the pain of realizing what his absence had cost you. But you also knew he wasn’t here to confess his love. He was here because he cared, because he felt responsible. And as much as that hurt, you couldn’t let that be the reason to hold onto hope.

“Zayne, please…” Your voice cracked as you looked at him, your body trembling with exhaustion. “Just go. Let me do this.”

He moved toward you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. The contact was warm, his touch familiar and comforting, but you could feel the hesitation in him, the uncertainty that hung in the air.

“You don’t understand,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you pulled away from his touch, shaking your head. “You won’t lose me, Zayne. You’ll still have me as a friend, as someone you care about. But I can’t… I can’t keep loving you like this.”

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. This was it. This was the moment you had to let go, no matter how much it hurt. You couldn’t bear to love him any longer, not when it was destroying you from the inside.

Zayne’s expression faltered, his hand falling back to his side. “Y/N…”

“Zayne, just go,” you whispered. 

“Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Zayne, please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

But he wasn’t listening. His hand gripped yours as if it was the only thing keeping him steady, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice strained.

You frowned, your heart sinking. “What is it?”

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw more than just concern. There was something deeper, something conflicted.

“About Emma—the other doctor,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what you think. We’re not… It’s not as serious as you believe.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shook your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Zayne, it doesn’t matter. You’re with her, and that’s fine. I’ve already accepted that.”

“No, you haven’t,” he said sharply, stepping closer. His eyes flashed with frustration. “And I haven’t either. I ended things with her.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean?”

Zayne hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as if he was gathering the courage to say something he’d been holding back for too long. “I’ve been avoiding my feelings, Y/N. For a long time. I thought keeping things professional between us was the right thing to do, the smart thing to do.” He paused, searching your eyes. “But seeing you like this… seeing you suffering because of me…”

His voice trailed off, thick with emotion, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. This was a side of him you had never seen, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want to face it,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I thought that by staying focused on my work, on our roles, I could keep things simple. But I can’t anymore. Not when I know what’s happening to you. Not when I realize I’m the reason you’ve been hurting.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in, and you felt the familiar sting of tears building behind your eyes. “Zayne… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been scared, Y/N. Scared of what it would mean if I let myself feel more for you. But I can’t hide from it anymore. I care about you—more than I should have ever let myself admit.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, his words sinking in deeper with every breath you took. Your heart was racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions you had thought were on the verge of being erased forever.

“Zayne…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You… you never said anything.”

He shook his head, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you, with myself. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to go through with the surgery.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Don’t erase your feelings, Y/N. Don’t erase us.”

You stared at him, your heart aching with the weight of his words. For so long, you had believed that he would never return your feelings, that your love for him would remain unrequited. But now, here he was, asking you to give him a chance. Asking you to believe that it wasn’t too late.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your throat tight with emotion. “I was ready to move on, to forget…”

Zayne leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to forget. We can figure this out—together. Please, Y/N… give us a chance.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of your love for him pressing hard against your chest. The flowers had bloomed so fully within you, so painfully, but for the first time, you felt a spark of hope.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

“I am too,” Zayne replied softly, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. “But I’d rather face that fear with you than lose you because of it.”

The silence between you was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid, everything you had both been too afraid to confront. But now, in the quiet of the hospital room, with the flowers inside you on the verge of consuming you, there was a new possibility blooming—a chance for something real.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Zayne smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Then don’t.”

The decision still weighed heavily on you—the surgery, the flowers, the uncertainty of what the future would bring. But in this moment, with Zayne by your side, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all.

The tension in the room hung thick as you gazed at Zayne, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his hand holding yours like an anchor. You could feel the weight of your decision pressing down on you, the reality of your situation still swirling in your mind.

The surgery—the removal of your feelings and the flowers that had ravaged your body—was supposed to be your salvation. It was supposed to be your way out of the pain, the only option you had left to survive. But now, with Zayne in front of you, admitting the feelings you had thought would forever go unspoken, the certainty of that choice began to crack.

Could you really walk away from this now? From him?

With a deep, shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly to look into Zayne’s eyes, your hand still tightly clasped in his. The fear and confusion swirling in your chest didn’t vanish, but something else—a glimmer of hope—was beginning to take root.

“I can’t promise that this will work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you spoke the truth that trembled within you. “I don’t know if my feelings will ever go away, or if the flowers will stop growing…”

Zayne shook his head, his eyes softening. “I’m not asking for guarantees,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet intensity. “I’m just asking for a chance. A chance for us. I… I like you, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened as emotion swelled inside you. For so long, you had been ready to let go, to numb yourself to the possibility of anything more. But now, with him sitting by your side, his touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t thought possible, the idea of walking away felt unbearable.

You didn’t want to let go—not of him, not of what could be.

With a slow exhale, you made the decision that had been forming in your heart ever since Zayne walked through the door. “I’ll… I’ll delay the surgery,” you said softly, your voice wavering but resolute. “Just for now.”

Zayne’s grip on your hand tightened, relief flooding his expression as his shoulders sagged slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for giving this a chance.”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest, but the dread you’d carried for so long felt a little lighter, like a weight that was finally beginning to lift.

As the hours passed, Zayne stayed by your side, refusing to leave. He sat close, his presence warm and steady as he talked quietly with you about anything and everything—his work, your missions as a Hunter, the lives you both led before this moment. It was as if the space between you, once filled with unspoken tension, was slowly being bridged by the quiet understanding that had always been there but never fully acknowledged.

And as the evening settled over Linkon City, something unexpected began to happen.

The pressure in your chest, once unbearable, began to ease. The sharp, suffocating pain of the flowers pressing against your lungs softened. You coughed lightly, out of habit more than necessity, but there were no thorns, no petals. You touched your chest, almost disbelieving, feeling the absence of the usual tightness.

Zayne noticed immediately, his eyes widening as he watched you. “Y/N?” he asked, concern still lacing his voice.

You took a deep breath—a real, full breath—and felt the difference. “The pain,” you said slowly, your voice filled with disbelief. “It’s… it’s not as bad.”

Zayne’s eyes softened as he leaned closer. “The flowers,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. “They’re withering, aren’t they?”

You nodded, still too stunned to speak. The flowers that had been blooming within you for so long, the painful manifestation of your unreturned love, were beginning to wilt. The thorns were loosening their grip, the petals curling inward, no longer feeding off the relentless ache in your heart.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of relief, of hope. It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t a cure—but it was a start. A small sign that maybe, just maybe, your heart was beginning to heal.

Zayne squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He closes the distance between you, lips meeting the skin of your forehead.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let out a small, shaky laugh, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. “I missed you so bad,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Zayne smiled, the warmth in his expression lighting up the room. “So did I.”

And with that, a fragile but beautiful sense of hope bloomed between you, far more powerful than any of the flowers that had once threatened to destroy you. 

As the night deepened, you knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, that your journey with Zayne was only just beginning. But for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid. You were ready to face whatever came next, together.

The flowers within you may have started to wither, but something far more enduring was taking their place—a glimmer of love, of possibility, of the future you could now dare to hope for. 

Zayne sat on the side of your bed, looking at you. You’ve just now realized the bag under his eyes and how much his hair wasn’t as kept as it always was. He looks tired. 

He holds your face again, looming close. You close your eyes and wait for him to close the distance. You can feel his breath on yours, slow and calming, until his lips softly land on yours. 

Back in the dimly lit underground of the N109 Zone, Sylus lounged in his usual chair, legs crossed casually as he flicked through his papers of work. Mephisto, his sleek, mechanical crow, perched on the edge of his desk. Its dark metal feathers glinted under the low light as its red eyes glowed with an eerie pulse. The crow had just returned from its latest mission, flying back from Linkon City with an update Sylus had been waiting on. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Mephisto clicked softly, a sign it had recorded new information.

With a tap on the crow’s head, Sylus activated the playback, listening intently as a holographic projection materialized in the air between them. It showed clips of Y/N, her once-pale face now regaining a hint of color, the dark shadows under her eyes starting to fade. She was walking through the corridors of Akso Hospital, slower than her usual stride, but there was an unmistakable strength returning to her movements.

Sylus smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She’s getting better,” he murmured, satisfied. His crimson eyes flicked over the scenes of Y/N interacting with Zayne, watching as she spoke with him, her body language more relaxed than it had been in weeks. He noted the way Zayne hovered protectively, never too far, a subtle guardian by her side.

Mephisto clicked again, relaying more footage from its surveillance of the city. Sylus took it all in, his mind piecing together what had unfolded. Y/N had made her choice—not to go through with the surgery just yet. Instead, she was taking her chances with Zayne, exploring what could be between them.

Sylus’ fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair as he considered it. He’d always respected Y/N’s strength, admired her resilience even when she was at her weakest. That she had survived the Hanahaki long enough to make it back to Linkon—and now, was seemingly thriving—was a testament to her will.

“You made the right call, sweetie,” he said to no one in particular, his voice low but approving.

Mephisto fluttered its wings, a sound like the shifting of gears, and Sylus gave the crow a nod of approval. He was satisfied with what he saw. Y/N had her path now, and though Sylus knew better than to interfere too much in her affairs, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at her recovery.

“Keep an eye on her, Mephisto,” he muttered, his voice turning sharp again. “But let her be. She’s strong enough to handle things from here.”

The mechanical crow clicked in acknowledgment before it took off into the air, disappearing through one of the many grates in the ceiling, off to continue its watch from the shadows. Sylus watched it go, the flicker of a smile lingering on his lips.

Y/N would be fine. She had her own battles to fight now, and with Zayne by her side, she had a chance. That was all Sylus could have hoped for.

With a quiet sigh, he stood up and headed toward the doorway, his boots echoing against the metal floor. There were other things to handle in N109, but for now, knowing that Y/N was on her way to healing—both from the flowers and from the tangled feelings that had plagued her—was enough to put his mind at ease.

As Sylus watched Mephisto disappear through the grate, the flicker of satisfaction from Y/N’s recovery still lingering, a sudden tightness gripped his chest. It wasn’t the usual tension from a long day in the shadows of N109—it was sharper, more visceral. His brows furrowed, and before he could fully process the sensation, a sharp cough escaped his throat.

He doubled over slightly, hand instinctively rising to his mouth. For a moment, the metallic taste of blood made him grimace, but as he pulled his hand away, what caught his attention was the small, delicate object that had landed on his palm.

A petal.

The sight of it made Sylus freeze. He stared at the soft, pastel pink petal—a contrast to the dim, metallic world around him. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The Hanahaki Disease. He’d seen its ravages before, watched Y/N suffer under its grasp. But this? His own symptoms? He couldn’t quite believe it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, tossing the petal onto his desk. The sharp throb in his chest hadn’t fully subsided, but it wasn’t the same as what he had witnessed in Y/N. There was no choking on thorns or overwhelming floral invasion. This was... different. A strain less aggressive, yet unmistakable in its cause.

Hanahaki. Unrequited love.

Sylus let out a low, humorless chuckle, his crimson eyes darkening as the realization hit him. He was no stranger to matters of the heart, but he’d always kept those feelings locked away, never giving them enough room to grow—or so he thought. This was proof that something had taken root, something he couldn’t deny anymore.

And there was only one person who came to mind.

Y/N.

He didn’t need to ask himself why. Seeing her leave, watching her struggle to fight the same disease, knowing he couldn’t do more than offer her shelter and assistance—it had stirred something in him. A feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. He had helped her out of concern, out of duty, out of their connection—but there had been something more.

The petal on his desk was proof of that.

Sylus stared at the petal on his desk, its delicate form unmistakably belonging to a lily. The pristine white hue stood out starkly against the gritty backdrop of his desk, a contrast that was almost mocking. Of course, it had to be lilies—symbolic of purity and renewal, the very antithesis of his hardened existence in N109. He couldn’t help but scoff at the irony.

Lilies.

He picked up the petal between his fingers, turning it over as he examined it closer. Unlike the thorn-covered roses Y/N had been coughing up, these petals were smooth, soft, and almost harmless in comparison. But he knew better. They were far from benign.

The fact that he was coughing up lilies of all things wasn’t lost on him. They represented something gentle, something almost... fragile. But Sylus was anything but fragile, and yet, here he was, entangled in the same affliction that had nearly destroyed Y/N. He sighed, tossing the petal back on the desk, watching it flutter down like a weightless reminder of what had been growing inside him.

And now, there was no denying the truth—he had feelings for her. Feelings that he had buried so deep they’d only surfaced now, in this frustrating, blooming form. Unlike Y/N’s roses, his strain wasn’t lethal, but that didn’t make it any less concerning. He wouldn’t let it get worse. He refused to be bound by something as foolish as unspoken love.

He glanced at his comm device again, fingers hovering over the screen before he pressed down, confirming the appointment with Dr. Maren for the next day. He wouldn’t let this linger, not like Y/N had. Sylus didn’t like loose ends, and this, now that he knew, was a loose end he intended to tie up.

But the thought of Y/N remained in his mind as he sat there, the image of her recovery still fresh. She was doing better. The flowers inside her were beginning to wither, a hopeful sign that her heart was healing. That gave him some measure of relief, knowing she was on a path that might lead to happiness—whether it involved him or not.

As for him... Sylus wasn’t sure where this would end. He wasn’t the type to dwell on love or let emotions cloud his judgment. But the lilies said otherwise. They were there, quietly blooming inside him, pushing him toward feelings he hadn’t intended to face.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, standing up from his desk, “I guess we’ll see how this plays out.”

The mechanical whir of Mephisto’s wings echoed faintly in the background as the crow returned from its surveillance, landing quietly on its perch. Sylus spared it a glance, giving the bird a small nod. There was always work to do, but for now, he had to focus on his next move.

Tomorrow, he'll see the doctor. And then, maybe—just maybe—he’d figure out what to do about the lilies. 

Sylus exhaled deeply, the weight of this new revelation pressing down on him. He couldn’t afford to let this disease grow. It wasn’t as severe as Y/N’s strain—he was lucky in that sense—but the fact that he had symptoms at all meant it could worsen if left unchecked.

He reached for his comm device, his fingers moving with purpose as he scrolled through his contacts. He needed answers, and he knew exactly who to call.

“Dr. Maren,” Sylus said as soon as the connection clicked. “I need to schedule a check-up. Something’s come up.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Maren responded, the voice calm but attentive. “Sylus? I thought your plan to draw Y/N to Linkon worked. What’s the issue?”

Sylus leaned back in his chair, glancing at the petal again before he spoke. “It’s me. But it’s a mild strain.”

Another silence, this one longer, before Maren’s voice returned, more serious this time. “That’s not something to take lightly, even if it’s a mild case. How long have you had symptoms?”

Sylus closed his eyes, recalling the subtle tightness that had been plaguing him over the past few weeks. It hadn’t been enough to alarm him, but now it all made sense. “Not long. It’s manageable for now. But I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’ll fit you in tomorrow,” Maren replied swiftly. “Come to the clinic. We’ll run some tests.”

Sylus nodded to himself, feeling the weight of his situation sink in. “I’ll be there.”

He ended the call and leaned forward, hands steepling under his chin as he stared at the petal once more. It was a strange irony, being caught by the same disease that had nearly claimed Y/N. But there was no time for self-pity. He was pragmatic by nature—he would handle it like everything else in his life: methodically, without hesitation. 

Still, the realization that his feelings for Y/N had manifested into something so tangible made him pause. He had always kept his emotions buried, hidden under layers of cynicism and practicality. Now, those feelings were blooming—literally—whether he liked it or not.

A slow, grim smile crept onto his lips as he muttered to himself, “How funny.”

The next day would bring answers. But for now, Sylus remained where he was, staring at the petal on his desk, caught between amusement and resignation. His finger runs on his temple, looming over his crimson eye. 

At least he wasn’t dying. And if he would have to take the surgery, it didn’t matter. He would always remember you. Because your connection knows no physical bounds. You’re always connected. The string of fate connecting the two of you cannot be cut that easily.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You-Part 12

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, mentions of doctors appointments, that's it!

Pairing: BangChan x Reader

Characters: All the boys except Chan, although Chan is mentioned, Reader

A/N: The reader needs a break!!! So here we are. This one is fluffy, it feels good to me. I hope you guys like it! Also, I am pretty sure I had two seizures in the last two days (At least). Thank you to everyone for being so patient. I will try to resume my Friday schedule. Thank you so much for your understanding and well wishes!!

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

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Bin POV:

“Everyone ready to go?” I asked. Early in the morning the psychiatrist came in to talk to Y/N. They asked me to come in for a few seconds with Han. They let us know that they really didn’t want her anywhere near the house and to stay with at least Han and I, but it was preferable for most if not all of us to be there for at least the first week. The trauma tied to the 3 Racha house is just too much at this point, the doctors were also worried about Chan making the recovery even worse than it already is. Y/N agreed wholeheartedly and with that she was given follow up appointments. Finally the latest blood tests came just before lunch and she was given a clean bill of health and an outpatient appointment for her OBGYN. Felix, Minho, I.N., and Hyunjin all went to the DanceRacha house to start prepping for us to head there. Felix texted me that he had a few surprises for her which made me smile, she needs a good surprise right about now. 

I’m still worried about Y/N. The DanceRacha dorms are a good option, but I know that for me, I still have memories tied to Chris there. I’m wondering if that is exactly what she is thinking. I can’t help but worry about it. “Remember the deal with the doctors is for you to be away from that house and with your support system. Are you sure you don’t want a place of your own? I want you to be comfortable as you heal.” 

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N smiled at me. It was a reassuring one, as if she could read my mind. She and I always had this connection. Whenever I was feeling down she would pop in to see how I was doing. 

I remember one time, it was maybe 3am and I was working on lyrics. They were risky, going double the speed of the song's beat, the technique is called ‘double time’ in rapping. Fast spitting rappers do it all the time, think Eminem and Busta Rhymes. It was my first time attempting it and I contemplated each and every syllable like a landmine. Writing it wasn't the issue, it was being able to deliver it while dancing. Those syllables take up a lot of air, not to mention the brutality that comes with dancing and singing at the same time. Our steps aren't insanely difficult, but they definitely take up oxygen like no one's business. So I'd get up, do push ups, jumping jacks, burpees, anything to get my heart rate up to about what it would be when performing, then I'd try to deliver the lines. Doing this is always painful, your body is screaming at you to stop talking, hunch over, and gasp for air. Obviously, we can't do that, so we try our hardest to build endurance. Some are like Chan, who sing while doing cardio (which is insane, by the way, I felt like I was dying when I tried it), some are like LeeKnow, packing on layer after layer of heavy clothing before and during dance practice, forcing the body to exert itself so much that when all of those layers are off, each movement and breath is a breeze (also insanity to do. It feels like working out in a sauna with a weighted, heated blanket on you). Me? I brute forced it. 

Anyway, Y/N noticed that I was really getting obsessed with these lyrics and doing them so that I was as close to the line of unhuman speed crossed with physical activity as possible. I'm the fastest rapper in the 4th generation and I wanted to show why I was. Y/N came into my room and said,“Binnie, you need to trust yourself. You know what's best, you have the best instincts I've ever seen. Remember, if you're about to dive in a pool, don't think about the height of the diving board, clear your mind, and jump in. Don't think, just do.” 

Even now, through all of this, you would think that a bond like that would be weakened, seeing her like that would make some pull away. It just brought me closer. I am in awe of her. The sheer will to live. The tenacity. The beauty in her broken parts know no bounds. It reminds me of ruins from ancient civilizations. Seeing the beauty in what was, and marveling at what is left. Only the strongest parts are left, the essence of that civilization. She is beyond anyone I've ever seen. Her capacity to love is beyond comprehension. 

That's why I am so happy to know her. To really know her. To be the person she reaches for, to ground herself. She trusts me to be there. And I will be. Simply because it’s an honor to love her. Money isn't an object for her. 

“Money isn’t a problem, would you like to be in a place of your own?” I asked again. I would spend my whole paycheck on her if I had the chance. She deserves to be spoiled.

“I still want to be at the other dorm, it’s familiar. For some reason I feel safe there. Is that okay?” She asked, looking at Seungmin. Little did she know that we had been talking about this for a bit before she woke up. We knew that pushing this topic on her would be too much, but at the same time, from what Seungmin told me, the doctors were never going to release her to the same house that Chris is in.

Seungmin chuckled, “Birdie, it’s not a problem, you have never not been welcome at my dorm, you know this,” he deadpanned. It is true…all of the boys over that house would get so excited as soon as they heard Y/N was coming over. They’d want to spend the entirety of the visit with her, a lot of the time they would start to pout if they felt she wasn't spending enough time with them. So when the idea came up their eyes lit up. Anywhere she goes, I'm not going anywhere. 

“Okay then it’s settled.” I smiled at her, combing a stray strand out of her face. I’m happy that she’s finally getting out of here. She has been through so much in such a short amount of time. She needs to be left alone. I am scared for her. I want her to be safe, and worries keep on popping in my head. How do I protect her? What if saesangs get a whiff that something is wrong? What if the company tried to force her to stay with Chris? What if she takes him back? That part hurt. Seeing how badly she was hurt simply because he was being an asshole. Simply because he treated a diamond like sand on a decrepit shore. The thought made me shake with rage as I looked at the woman in front of me, she looked at me with furrowed brows, that brought me back to her.

Y/N looked into my eyes at that moment, like she was tapped into my brain. She gave my hand a squeeze as she said, “Binnie? What's wrong, talk to me…” she shyly played with my fingers. Her touch was feather light given the bruises that formed on my knuckles. I wanted to tell her the truth about them. My impulse to be honest, making the words bubble in my throat. Right behind the truth of what I'm feeling.

I wanted to tell her I love you, I wanted to tell you for so long. The minute I met you I fell for you, your soft voice, your booming laugh, your corny jokes. All of it. Not just the you before but the you now. I know life is going to be hard for you, I want to be there. I want to stand next to you and catch you whenever you need to collapse. I will give you everything I have. You deserve to know what real love is. I know Chris isn't good for you. You don't need this pain, this heartache, you don't deserve to be treated like an option. You are the one and only person I ever loved and will continue to love for the rest of my life. I want you to be happy, and if it's not with me that's okay. I just want you to know that he isn't the only option. I am just one person, I am sure thousands of men would line up and down city blocks just to see you, let alone have a chance with you. Instead I said “ just thinking.”

There is a time and a place for everything. Telling her right now could confuse her more, make her feel like I just want something from her. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. The fact that she has been used like this and thrown to the side, expected to all of a sudden tolerate the people that did that to her. 

I saw the opportunity to draw attention away and I took it as I said “Seungmin, you have everything?” “Yeah, we should be ready to go soon,” he said as he kept packing all of the random hoodies that were used as pillows when we stood overnight with her. It's been years since most of us slept in the same room as the others. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check on Y/N, sometimes startling her. Everytime that happened Seungmin and I would wake up. We aren't light sleepers in particular, but it was more reflexive than anything. The nurse would quietly remind her that she's safe and all of her boys are with her. No one is going to hurt or sneak up on her. It'd still take a little time for her to go back to bed. Seungmin and I would refuse to even close our eyes until her heart rate went back to resting and her body would be completely relaxed and limp. 

Now that things are starting to simmer down I am wondering why Seungmin had this reaction. He's been very strong through it all and he is even going against his nature of just observing. I am wondering what it is that I don't know. I just want to be filled in. Seungmin isn't known for physical affection, instead opting for annoying people he loves until they inevitably get closer to the edge of insanity. It's an odd way to show love, but Seungmin has never been known for traditional methods. 

So why is it that he’s calling her pet names and smiling at her that way? Did he always smile at her like that? It’s so comforting, almost endearing. More than anything she is sharing the look. Something definitely happened but I have no clue what. 

“Angel, you have all the appointments and all of that?” I looked back to her and she smiled at me saying, “Yup, I just want out of here. It’s been crazy. I just want to cuddle with my boys and watch a movie.” I could feel the sincerity in her words. 

It wasn’t too long after that when Han came with the wheelchair saying, “You’re chariot awaits.” I am still really worried about her. She still says the cramps are no joke. Her cravings are still everywhere too. When she asked the attending about it they explained that her body is still going to have those pregnancy cravings for at least a few more weeks. I could see the hint of sadness in her features when hearing that. The only thing I could imagine herself feeling is that it’s another reminder. A reminder of what could’ve been. 

On our way to the house I could feel her excitement ramp up. I could hear her giggles as she listened to the radio. She waited and bounced at the redlights. I looked behind me and I saw everyone else in the car smiling lopsidedly as she giggled. Y/N wasn’t known for very big displays of excitement unless it was for something that she really really wanted or missed having. 

I could see the color in her face, knowing that if Hannie and I didn’t do what we needed to do, this would not have been the case. Instead, I get to see her smile, feel her laugh a little more, and be thankful for every moment, I always was but now? It’s like I have a deeper love for her. She was already a part of me, but now she is like a vital organ, as odd as it sounds. 

As I was in my own thoughts I heard a song play, it was one that I knew she loved. Immediately I felt her hand grab mine, which was on the shared arm rest. Usually if she wanted the armrest she would just nudge me until I relented and shared, but this was different. She laid her arm on top of mine, her hand interlocking with mine as she sang along to the song. I couldn’t help but think it belonged there. Touches are a part of her expression of comfortability. It’s how she communicates, which I happen to know all too well. This had more weight to it somehow. She felt like she knew that no matter what she’d be safe. Which was and still is true.

When we pulled around the corner we were met with balloons in her favorite color on the doorstep. Her eyes lit up as she said, “What’s this?” I just shrugged as I said, “I don’t know, Lix told me that he was up to something but I didn’t really know what.” As soon as we parked Y/N bounced as she waited for one of us to come around and help her. 

I think that she was surprised at the fact that we had done anything, period. I know that she has a complex. She tends to feel like she isn’t worth the time. That was something that she told me in confidence one night. Every night she would cry herself to sleep for the better part of 2 and a half years. Hannie and I did not catch it until we started spending weekends with her. 

One night I heard whimpering from their room, when I knocked I heard sniffles. I gently pushed the door open, I found her curled in a ball, crying looking at her phone. When I asked her what was wrong she just handed me the phone. On it was a text thread. 

Y/N: hey are you coming home? It’s Friday and I wanted to watch a movie with you. Channie❤️: Not this again, Y/N. I’m working, I don’t have time for this. Y/N: You promised you’d take some days off every week, so you don’t burn out. You even said that those days are our days.  Channie❤️: Y/N the more you talk to me the longer I have to be in the studio. So you are causing me to be away longer because you can’t be patient.  Y/N: I haven’t seen you in weeks, Channie. You are always gone, I miss you and I feel alone… like you don’t care.  Channie❤️: bingo! You are right. I don’t care. My phone is getting turned off. Maybe then you’ll get the message that I don’t have time for you. Get some sleep, trust me, don’t wait up. 

I held her all night that night, I dried her tears as she clung onto me for dear life. Like I said before, her love language is touch, so to literally be starved of that for weeks from her husband made me feel enraged. More than anything, I wanted to make her comfortable. 

I wrapped her in a fluffy blanket of which I called ‘the Y/N burrito’. Then I picked her up while she giggled and placed her on the couch. We watched whatever she wanted. Early into the morning she started craving her favorite snack so we went out in pajamas, got the snacks, and had a movie marathon. It’s one of my favorite memories with her. She started off that night crying and ended it safe in my arms, snacks surrounding her as credits rolled on the T.V. 

I brushed her hair back as I stared at her sleeping so peacefully on the couch. The credits created a dim and timid light as I wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth. It was about 6am when Chris walked in. He looked annoyed and just walked past us as if we were ghosts. 

I recounted this as I saw the balloons, thinking that whatever is inside, she is going to love it. 

Han was first to grab her. When Seungmin unlocked the door with the overnight bags slung over his shoulder we could hear a little gasp and some talking. Han held her hand as we walked. 

“This is so sweet you guys didn’t have to,” she stopped at the balloons, looking at them as if they were the most precious diamonds she has ever seen. Then when we walked in she started sniffling. 

Sitting on the couches were 6 pillow sized plushies, and one giant plushie. Y/N loves plushies, their textures calm her. What got her to cry though, was what each of them represented. The one giant plushie was an angel. The other 6 were a lioness, a crown, a bird, a sunflower , Anya, and the National flower of Korea, the mugunghwa, the symbol of eternal beauty, that one has to be Minho’s. 

I have no clue where he even found some of these. Especially the lioness, that one represented I.N.’s nickname for her. Whenever anyone tried to mess with us he always said, “if you think the wolf is bad wait until the lioness hears about this.”

She started crying, “they…. They’re all my nicknames. The ones you gave me.” She immediately went to the angel and grabbed it, hugging it tightly as she cried. 

My heart broke and swelled at the same time. She should never have to feel like anyone is going to abandon her. It makes me so sad to know that she was so scared of losing us. All because of one foolish and egotistical man. He deserves nothing, especially not her love. Yet she loved him anyway. That is the type of person that she is. 

Felix came up to her and said, “I figured if one of us had to go out and you missed us, now you’ll have a piece of us with you. You won’t be alone, and we’ll always come back to you. So when we leave, you can hold on to them really tight and know that soon we’ll be there.” I could see the tears about to leave his eyes.

If anyone was able to do something this sweet for Y/N, it would be Felix. The way that he cares for her, comforts her, it’s like they share one mind. He knows that she loves plushies. Ones that are so soft she can just sink into them. Chris never really liked too many things in his room. So he always discouraged her from decorating with plushies. He also felt that, although they were cute, they had no place in an adult’s bedroom. Especially not a leader’s bedroom. Most of her plushies found residence in my room. 

I had no problem holding onto them for her and sometimes she would even decorate my room with them. Every movie night, before Hannie and I came home, she would grab the plushies and throw them on Han’s bed. She’d decorate with them, with Hannie’s favorite holding a bag of Hannie’s snacks. She’d also have her favorite, she named it Ollie, and Gyu on the bed, with popcorn in the middle. 

That always made me smile. That wherever Ollie went, so did Gyu. Whenever I would sleep in the same bed with her, I would grab Ollie and Gyu. One night she asked if she could hold Gyu for a bit. Usually I don’t let anyone touch him, but she isn’t anyone. Without hesitation I handed her Gyu and she handed me Ollie. I remember hearing her sigh with comfort as she talked to Gyu about me. How lucky Gyu must be to fall asleep next to me every night. She thanked him for comforting me and for allowing me to sleep soundly. Even on every tour, she would pack Ollie and Gyu for me to sleep with. The first time she did it, she wrote a note with it. ‘I’m going to miss you, but so is Ollie. I may not be able to go with you but Ollie can! Sleep well, have a great tour, I’ll see you soon Binnie!-Angel.’

She looked up at Felix, released the angel, and hugged him as she whimpered a bunch of tiny little “thank you’s” into his chest. I think she realized that all of us know that she is scared. We may not say it but we do. We know and we all love her so much. We are here for her. Even if we may not be there in person, there is no place we would rather be than being with her. 

Felix held her and pulled back after a few minutes. He wiped her tears and he said, “come on sit, take a load off. The brownie batter is almost done… unless you want to help?” He smirked at her. 

She practically dragged Felix to the kitchen and Minho yelled, “Yah, I’m not done in here!” She giggled and asked what he was doing. I came into the kitchen to see Minho tying tenderloin together. She was watching curiously as he worked. He said, “it is your first day home and we should celebrate that. I’m making beef wellington, and don’t worry I left out the mushrooms, replaced it with onions and carrots for you.”

“Really? Thank you Minho! This is going to be the best dinner, thank you!!” She bounced and kissed him on the cheek. His ears turned red as he said, “okokok go over there with Lix’ you guys can have the oven first since this needs to chill,” he kissed her forehead right before she bolted to help Lix. I couldn’t help but giggle at her as she breathed life into the room. 

I could see that she was really touched that he said, ‘your first day home’. Those words meant that now she is home. This is her space as well as theirs, that will never change. I could see her trying to hold back tears as she baked. Once things were baking Lix’ plugged in the switch and we had a blast playing games while we waited for dinner to come around. After everything was baked and made, we all sat down for a nice dinner, like we used to in the shared dorms.

Right before we all sat down Y/N smiled and said, “thank you. To all of you. This experience was hard. It was the hardest thing that I have ever been through to date. It’s because of all of you that I made it. All of you mean so much to me. The thing that really scared me after all of this was what would happen if I lost you guys? My boys. I cherish every single memory with each of you. I love you boys so damn much, you are all my family. Seeing what you did,” she looked at me and Hannie, “Being so strong. Crying with me, holding me through it all.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Resisting the urge to nudge into it like I always do.

She looked at everyone else, “The fear that each of you must have felt. I know I wasn’t the only one mourning and coming to terms with things.” I saw her look directly at Seungmin for a split second and went back to scanning the table, “I want to thank all of you so much. This experience was horrific. Because of all of you, I made it out. I love you boys so much. Thank you for welcoming me home.” With that, she sat down and leaned into me, I could tell she was either too nervous or embarrassed.

As we were eating and laughing she looked around the table. I sat down right to her left and Hannie was on her other side. I could tell she was doing her best not to cry. I think it was the same for the boys. Two days ago that wasn’t the case. She was fighting for her life around this time. To think that we would all be here, together, a family. It made me want to cry. This is the family that she deserves. Everyone she loves, at home, on time, together. She was so happy and before dessert came out Hyunjin said, “Yongbok-ah phase 2.” Then Felix went running to his room. He came out with a giant comforter and plopped on the living room floor. He then ran to Minho’s room, grabbed his comforter and plopped it down as well. At that point I.N. said, “Movie time! Everyone on the floor!”

Immediately everyone moved to the living room and got a spot except for me. I was helping wash dishes with Minho. When I walked in I could see Minho tearing up as we heard her giggle. I patted his back as I said, “what can I do to help, hyung?” He just shook his head a bit and asked me to help him with the drying. By the time we were almost done with that I heard Y/N calling my name and asking me to sit. I told her that I had to change into my pajamas first and I could hear her ask Lix if she could change in his room quickly. He of course obliged. 

Slowly but surely everyone started changing and pretty soon everyone was sitting on the comfy comforters. I didn’t really know where to sit and Y/N looked at me saying, “I know you aren’t thinking about sitting away from me.” I didn’t want to make it seem like she needed to be next to me all of the time, thinking that I would come off as clingy but it’s nice to know that she craves my touch as well. 

I sat down right next to her and everyone’s faces had giant smiles. I looked at her and she smirked as she held onto my bicep curling into me. This is one of my favorite places to be. Just next to her as she clings onto me like a Koala. 

She was giggling as Felix handed out the brownie sundaes and everyone got comfy. Y/N decided on a comedy for the first movie and out of nowhere she asked me, “You guys were never going to leave me, were you?” 

I just smiled at her and said, “Not in a million years. We love you, we always will. Nothing and no one will get in the way of that.” She gave me an indication that she wanted to be closer so I lifted my arm up, that way she could scooch closer to me. I could feel the tears through my sleep shirt as I held her. 

“Thank you for not leaving me.” She said as quietly as she could. The truth is, she is someone that I need, someone that we all need. She is a unique type of person. After about two movies most had abandoned the comforter pile. By the early morning it was just me and Y/N. We were laying down on her new plushies. She took her place on my chest. Much like that night from years ago, I wiped the chocolate from her face and watched her form as she slept, credits rolling on the T.V. I smiled as she slept. I kissed her forehead and she intertwined her leg with mine. A few minutes later we fell asleep, with the promise of better days ahead.

[mong---mong]

SKZ React (Seungmin)

When your pregnant with twins

Thank God for auto-correct- 😅😅😅

-x-x-x-x-x-

You and Seungmin weren’t fans of surprises. Commonly scaring each other you don’t mind, but life changing decisions such as asking you out, proposing, and pregnancy, we’re all things you made each other aware was going to happen.

Maybe it was like that because of how you met, but that is a different story for a different time.

Right now you had just found out you were pregnant, and it was planned and you were going to tell Seungmin once you got home from work.

You just played with Li-Hyeon, and then put her down for her nap. She was three, and you knew she was ready for a sibling, so you and Seungmin were excited to give her one.

You were reading a book, and that’s when you heard the door open. You just sat there reading away while listening to the surrounding sounds.

You felt a peck on top of your, something commonly did when he came home from work. “Hi..Min” you say, turning a page in your book. “Hi my Citrus Scented, Bath and Body Works spray” he teases.

You just look back at him with an weirded out expression. He just chuckles and sits next to you. The moment was calm, and perfect. You shut your book and cuddled Seungmin lying on his chest.

“I took a pregnancy test today, and it came out positive..” You said, you felt Seungmin’s heart rate increase, and his chest grow. “Really? Did you take another one?” He asked with excitement filling his voice.

“Yeah, I scheduled a doctor's appointment for tomorrow..” You said, Seungmin put his hands on your stomach. “Our family is growing each and everyday!”

Your daughter was beyond happy when she learned that she was going to be a big sister, and you told Seungmin’s parents when you dropped Li-Hyeon off there.

You and Seungmin went hand and hand into your ultrasound, and when it was your turn to get your ultrasound, the sense of Deja-vu came over again. 

It was like when you were pregnant with Li-Hyeon. But things were going to be way different. The lady hands you a folder of your sonogram, after your ultrasound.

You and Seungmin open it up, to reveal your child. “Mrs.Kim, 2 months pregnant, Twins”You were shocked and looked at Seungmin. 

Seungmin's eyes widen very much, “Do you have twins in your family?” He asked. You shake your head “No..not any that I know of..” You were still shocked at the sonogram. Seungmin smiled and said, “Well this is a surprise..” 

The two of you knew, as much as you tried to avoid surprises, you knew you were going to have a few surprises. Your daughter was excited to have two siblings, Seungmin’s parents were shocked, but then explained that Seungmin’s great-grandmother was a twin, they just never mentioned it.

The pregnancy itself came with surprises, you took Li-Hyeon when you figured out the gender. She was excited when she knew she was getting two little brothers now.

The next surprise was when your two little boys came 3 weeks early, it was expected they came early, just not that early. Finally after giving birth, you held your two babies in your hands, as Seungmin looked at the boys, who were identical, with a lot of his puppy features.

“I guess I will have to get used to having 4 Seungmin’s around” you said, as Li-Hyeon also resembled Seungmin in looks and attitude. Ji-Ho and Ju-woo grew up the same, except Ji-Ho was a bit shy, but they were all your sassy children, who learned well from Seungmin. -x-x-x-x-x-

Thanks for your support, comment if you wanted to be added to the tag list~! Tag List: @mong---mong

[romeowriting]

Love and deepspace Zayne x Male reader / self insert. (A few moments there's male pronoms but not a lot.)

Need comfort and I'm lonely sooooooooo yeah has been in my head for a while to calm down mostly during panic attacks.

English isn't my first language, I'm transgender, I haven't played this game for a long time.

Tw: Faint, panic attack, Mention of sickness... Zayne takes care of y/n after a panic attack that made him faint.

You're maybe a hunter, maybe you're able to fight big creatures without any issues.

But when it comes to going outside and being around people. It's another thing.

You are more than just unwell, you can't go outside without headphones or something to calm you down when everything is getting overwhelming.

And it doesn't help when half of the time, you get to go to the hospital.

Even if you have a friend over there, it doesn't mean you are insensitive when it comes to those white and lifeless walls, or that smell that lingers in your clothes of air freshener and discomfort from traumatic memories.

But proud of yourself (and mostly because you decided to go without being fully awake). You were able to get out of the bus and arrived in front of the hospital like a pro.

Walking towards the big garden, you check your phone. Your appointment with doctor Zayne was a bit delayed. You know he was often called for emergency so you didn't mind. Now you have some time to kill. With that you went to take a small breakfast at the cafeteria, the stress made it impossible to eat that early in the morning and you started feeling dizzy.

You repeat yourself the tea and the little croissant that you want and by the time you passed, you stuttered but was able to get them.

Finally, after a long 45 minutes from where you looked either at the beautiful garden where kids were running and some were taking in this sweet fresh air. While trying to eat without your brain getting anxious over nothing, you finished your food.

Finally, a cold nurse asked you to sit down in the waiting room, saying you'll still have time to wait.

Sadly, your brain and heart start doing shit.

Like always, your anxiety took over your rational brain and by the time you noticed the symptoms, it was too late. You were having a panic attack.

Hopefully no one was in the waiting room. Not even a nurse. So before you could faint, you get off the chair and sit on the floor. Curling up while hesitating to take off or not your headphones.

Your ears started to buzz, so you took them off, putting them out of the way in case you fell unconscious, your heart rate went too far and before you could think of it.

You blackout.

You woke up like always with difficulty. Feeling like dying or suffering from this painful feeling. The time you took to understand you just passed out. You could hear the deep but calming voice of your friend Zayne. Calling you out.

“Y/n… Y/n can you head me? Tell me if you hear me. Make a sign.”

He kept asking you questions, until you were fully awake or at least enough to move your hand. Tapping soundless on the cold concrete. Your body is totally paralyzed. He sighted while you tried to talk even with a big migraine.

“I…I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…”

Like always, the first thing you feel like saying isn't “I'm not feeling good” or “I'm awake” But how sorry you are to bother the others.

He didn't answer that right away, you noticed while being unconscious, he put you in the safety position and now.”I'm going to lift your legs while you gain consciousness ok ? Tell me. Can you hear me clearly?”

You nodded, not a very smart move when you have a bit of a migraine and you had the consequences the seconds after. Groaning at the overwhelming feeling of a headache and of sickness. He cooed.”chuu… you don't have the strength to talk y/n ?” You softly said under your breath. “I don't know…”

After all, you didn't know what to do now. You were here for a basic check up after a mission. So it was supposed to be normal. Why does this happen everytime you know you can't handle it? Why… “Why is it happening to me ? Why can't they know what it is …?”

He stayed silent. Zayne was a very good doctor, you know he was one of the best. But he was as lost as you.

Maybe it was neurological ? Maybe it was a heart condition? No doctors could say. Even when like here. You fainted in a medical place. They don't seem to know the reason behind those episodes.

“It's fine Y/n, listen to my voice now. Ok ?” Said the doctor, trying to make you think of something else. While holding your legs up to let the blood go down, he looked at you so you murmured a small yes. He started to instruct. “Breathe in…. and breathe out… good. Breathe in… breathe out. Good job y/n.”You saw a soft smile on his face. He wouldn't admit that it happened.

After taking your conscious back and your heart at a normal rate. He put your legs down and let you choose to be held or to walk. With the few strength you had. You hold at his shoulders and with his help. Walked to his office. You didn't remember the moment he had you laid down on the couch, a cold patch on your head, your legs a little bit lifted up by the couch handle and your head on your favorite and comfortable pillows, your shirt a bit above your torso feeling like it had always been made for that. The faint scars on each side of your torso were like ornaments on your strong body.

He started taking your pulsations and heart rate. He knew you dislike silence as you hate noises. So he put soft but noticeable relaxing music in the background. He knew your taste, it was those video game’s osts you often put in your home to not hear the outside world.

“Zayne, I'm sorry for bothering you with that…” you said abruptly, he glared at you, but… you noticed his eyes were full of worries, of sadness and mostly:

“Don't say sorry for something you can't control. Y/n you did great by sitting out of your chair the moment you started feeling it. You did great by letting yourself in a place you were familiar with. Darling…” he put a hand on you forehand and let it softly caress your face. “I'm proud of you for doing everything you did until my arrival. I'm the one who should be sorry for letting you wait.”

You couldn't help it but started feeling guilty. After all, it wasn't his fault too if he had a more urgent patient. You are not the only patient. You…”you are overthinking again y/n. Don't think about it right now. The most important thing now is to take care of you. Right ?” Zayne tenderly assured you. Cutting your thoughts out of you.

You tried to suppress a cry but failed, letting all the overwhelming feelings crawling on you, out.

The gentle, protective form of Zayne sat down on the place you made him on the couch so he could pull you in an embrace. He started murmuring soft praises. Knowing you loved them.

“Good boy… you did great chuut. Look at you. There's nothing to fear. It's only you and me. No one's going to judge you.”

He softly put a kiss on your head. His coffee scent starts to make you feel at ease. He lets you snuggle against his neck while he shields you from the world.

--------🐦‍⬛

Thank you for reading. I made this so I can't let out my thoughts. Sorry if it's a bit ooc for Zayne. I haven't been able to play the game since around 5 months because of my phone but I wanted to do something.

[randomfandomlov3]

Butterfly Kisses

Mob!Bucky x Fem!reader

Warnings: Violence, angst, swearing, mentions of parental deaths, mentions of torture, fluff, no Y/N use, Mob, Fear of thunderstorms mentioned. Let me know if I missed any.

Notes: This was my first attempt at a mob universe. Thank you so much for reading! <3 I ended this in a kind of weird spot, but I have no inspiration for what to do next so if you want more or have any ideas I would love to hear them.

Word Count ~ 7,783

She knew she had a bad feeling about going out today. Why didn't she trust her gut? Oh right, she has anxiety most of the time, that's why. That storm was not what she had planned for when she went out today, even if she had no choice, needing to go to her appointment. She took a deep breath trying to calm her racing heart.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She glanced up at the ruggedly handsome stranger who just got on the bus.

"I don't mind," she whispered, making sure she was as close to the window as she could get. He sat next to her, careful not to press up against her.

He was used to hearing people's heart rates Increase in his presence, but the way her arms were wrapped around her body before he had even spoken to her, told him that something else was bothering her. That was confirmed when a loud crack of thunder happened and thinking it was her arm, she dug her nails into the skin. He felt the sting as the skin of his arm broke under one of her nails, the only people he had ever seen this terrified were those who were receiving fate from his hands. This pain however was nothing compared to what he has experienced previously.

She then looked down, and her mouth dropped, she just drew blood from the stranger who decided to sit beside her. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I can't believe I did that. I should have a bandage in here somewhere." She started to dig through her bag.

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't even hurt."

She pulled out the only band-aid she could find, a cutesy kid's one with butterflies. "I don't want it to get infected, not that I am dirty, but you know." Carefully dabbing it with a Kleenex before sticking the bandage to his arm gently. No one had ever cared for him like this, even when his doctor bandaged his wounds. Reaching the final stop for this bus they both got off. She headed straight towards her destination horrified by what she had just done to the poor stranger, he on the other hand stared at her for a minute before unrolling his sleeves.

After her appointment with the doctor, she exited the building staring at her phone to check bus times. Not paying attention to where she was walking, she ran face first into a wall of muscle, that when she went to fall, caught her. Of course, it had to be him.

“I am once again so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, because I wanted to make sure that my bus wouldn’t leave before I got there.” She rambled out, while he stared at her with an amused look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, but this…” he gestured between them. “Might have made you miss your bus, but how about I give you a ride, it’s the least I could do for a beauty like you.” She shook her head in protest.

“It’s fine, I will just wait to catch the next one, but thank you for your offer.” She blushed at his compliment.

“Fine, at least let me give you my phone number in case you ever need anything, and I mean anything butterfly.” He pulled her phone out of her hand to enter his contact and double-check that this beauty wasn’t already taken. When she got her phone back, he gave her a wink and went on his way.

‘Dragonfly’ and underneath in the details he had written, “Bucky Barnes, but I’ll be your dragonfly if you’ll be my butterfly.” Her heart picked up again, but this time for something pleasant. She knew that the chances of seeing him again, though, were rather low. Luckily, the bus had been running late and she had managed to catch it, but there must have been something scary on the way, based on the fear on the driver’s face. The whole ride home she thought about the handsome stranger whom she assaulted twice and still had given her his number.

She tried to use the thoughts of him to block out the sounds of thunder outside the window. As she walked through the rain from the bus stop, she thought she saw someone watching her. Probably just paranoid, it was not likely that anyone would be watching her, she was nothing special. She went into her apartment and tried to forget about her anxieties of the day and relax.

He didn’t usually come to this part of town as both leaders know it is off limits, as it is where the daycares are. Children didn’t need to be a part of this life when they couldn’t even care for themselves. However he wanted to make sure that she was safe because he had not seen her in any of the businesses on his side before, he definitely would have remembered her. He did feel a little bit like a creep when he caught himself watching her play with the children in the yard of one of the daycares.

“I thought we had agreed this area was off-limits to both of us. Are you so greedy that you are willing to put these innocent children in danger?” Tony Stark the other leader in the city, quipped. Neither of them liked to share, but they knew at least right now that was what was best for everyone, and it was a big enough city that the only time they had to see each other was at their set-up meetings. “One of my men told me that this isn’t your first time in this area recently. I won’t let you claim it as your own. Or is it that there is something here that has caught your eye?” He pondered when he saw Bucky staring.

“Boss, what are we doing here? You have never shown interest in this area, for the safety of the next generation,” Sam whispered in Bucky’s ear, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Nothing, I just came to check for some things that aren’t sold anywhere on my side.” Bucky brushed the weird looks from his competitor off and headed towards the store. Inside he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Buck? Why are you getting a box of butterfly patterned band-aids?” Steve asked chuckling at the childish look of the box that his friend and boss was holding. The look that Bucky gave him wiped that off his face. He had never seen a look quite like this in the many years that he had known Bucky.

He couldn’t explain why, but having one on him, comforted him in ways that he had never felt before. They felt like how he imagined butterfly kisses would feel. It felt like he had found a missing part of himself, but why would someone like her ever choose someone like him? The only reason he could think of was out of fear, but he didn’t want that, if she didn’t want to be his or a part of his life, he would not scare her into it.

Then his phone rang.

On the way home from her shift at the daycare she was exhausted, but that uneasy feeling she had been experiencing the past few days was even more intense today. She knew that there were two main mobs within the city, but she had never encountered either, thankfully, and she learned from her current boss that they don’t control the middle for the safety of the children at the daycares. The feeling of being watched only got stronger the closer she got to home. Before she entered the apartment building, she looked up and saw a silhouette from within her apartment, but no one else has a key to her apartment, apart from the building manager who is a little old lady, and the silhouette was definitely too big to be her. Her first instinct was to duck into the nearby shop and call someone. But who? She just recently moved here, so her friends all lived hours away, and she didn’t have any family left. The kind stranger’s words rung through her mind, “I mean anything, Butterfly.”

She went into the bathroom, pulled out her phone and dialed the one person who might be able to help her. Her hands trembled in fear that he wasn’t serious.

“Hello, who is this?” His voice cut through the phone roughly.

“Mr. Barnes…” she tried to steady her voice to get the words out, but fear kept them tight in her throat.

“Butterfly? Is that you? Are you okay?” He had a surprised and panicked tone to his voice.

“Yeah, it’s me. Umm… I didn’t know who else to call. There is someone in my apartment, and I am scared to go in. I am currently in the store next door. I’m sorry, you are probably busy, I should have just called the police,” she rambled out, when she heard him curse on the other end.

“Butterfly, do not apologize, give me the address I will be right there.” He tried to hide the anger in his tone. She gave him the address of her apartment building and the name of the store she was hiding in.

“Where are you going Boss? Should we come too?” Sam and Steve watched as he climbed on his motorcycle.

“Follow in a car just in case you are needed.” His tone is harsh, so they know something serious is going on.

She browsed the shelves of the convenience store trying to calm her racing mind when the front doors opened and in walked Bucky. Her mind started to race at the look on his face. “I’m sorry, I disturbed you with something like this. I just really didn’t know who else to call.” She stared at her feet not wanting to look into his eyes.

His gloved hands held her cheeks so that she would look at him. “You do not need to apologize. I was serious when I said to call me for anything. You, butterfly, could never be a disruption to my day.” Her cheeks burned under his touch, and she nodded like he wanted. “Now, can we go check out your apartment together?" He saw her whole body tense. “Don’t worry, I will keep you safe.”

“Okay.” She exhaled and walked outside looking over her shoulder to make sure he is still with her. Taking a deep breath she got into the elevator and pressed her floor.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked trying to make small talk and calm her down a little.

“I hit the 3 month mark a few days ago.” She answered with a sigh. The elevator dinged open and one of the doors just down the hallway looked smashed in.

Bucky pulled out his phone and shot a text to his boys. He kept her distracted long enough that Sam and Steve could join them. “These are my friends, Sam Wilson, and Steve Rogers. They are going to help just in case the intruder is still in there.” She nodded, shaking each of their hands and introducing herself. Bucky leaned down to her ear, “Oh, so that’s the butterfly’s name.” She blushed at the feeling of his breath on her face. Steve and Sam led the way with Bucky keeping his eyes around her to make sure there was no one else lurking.

“It’s a mess, but the coast is clear. No one is inside. But I don’t think it is a safe idea for her to stay here for a little while.” Steve turned to her. “Do you have somewhere else you can stay?” She shook her head, about to say that she would just stay in a hotel.

“She will stay at my place. I have more than enough rooms, and she will be safe there. Butterfly go pack a bag and make sure you bring anything important, just in case someone tries this again.” Bucky said with determination, surprising everyone else. She gave a small nod before heading into her destroyed apartment.

“Boss, do you really think that it is smart for her to stay at the house, what if she gets snoopy?” Steve asked concerned about what his friend is thinking.

“If you can tell me somewhere she would be safer I’ll listen, but I know what I am doing.” Bucky entered her apartment to look at the extent of the damage caused. “This doesn’t look like how Tony’s men would do a job, but they must have been in a hurry.”

“Do you know why he would target her, especially when she lives within the neutral zone?” Sam questioned keeping guard at the door.

“She was at the daycare when we were talking. I think he caught me looking at her.” Bucky stated going to find where she was. She was standing at the entrance of her bedroom which had been absolutely destroyed, with a horrified look on her face. She slowly walked over to what used to be a crystal butterfly, she cradled the pieces in her hands and cried. “Butterfly, I can get you a new one of those, I promise it will be okay.” She aggressively shook her head.

“No, you can’t. No one can, well except my parents who are both dead now. This was what I had left of them.” Bucky’s heart broke as his girl sobbed her heart out in front of him. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. For once in his life he was at a loss for words. She put the pieces into a small bag inside her bag. Then she got up and continued to try to pack. Grabbing a stuffed bear in a suit, she turned to Bucky, “I guess I was also given this by them when I was born, but that crystal has always had a deeper meaning.” Her bag is bursting by the time she is done.

“Was anything important missing?” Sam asked her carefully, but she just shook her head. The men led her out, Sam took her bag, and Steve stayed to deal with the police since he had the best luck with them.

Bucky led her over to his motorcycle and put the helmet on her head. “Safety first. Make sure to hold on tight.” She held on to him as tight as she could, making Bucky smirk. He didn’t like that she might have been afraid, but he did like that she found him comforting.

“Woah, is this where you live?” She expressed her impressment of the large home. She had seen one like this before when she was young, but even now they were impressive. He smiled at her amazement, as Sam and Steve pulled up in the car. Bucky got her bag out and led her into the house and up to what would be her room for the next while. It was almost the size of her whole apartment, and it had its own en suite bathroom.

“It’s getting late, have you eaten?” She nodded looking around her room. “Okay, get some rest, you could use it after a day like today. If you need anything feel free to text me,” he said, letting her get settled in for the night.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face. She woke up the next morning to a text on her phone. “Let me know when you are up, butterfly, so I can show you around.” Her heart fluttered at his hospitality, and a part of her hoped that it wasn’t all a façade.

“Good morning.” Is all she sent once she got dressed and ready.

“Morning, Butterfly. Sleep well?” Almost instantly she got a reply. A soft smile graced her face as she thought about him waiting for her to get up. Just as she was about to reply, there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to find Bucky standing on the other side, in a sharp black suit. “Shall we go to breakfast?” He asked with his usual charismatic smile.

“Sure, and by the way I slept well. How did you sleep?” She walked beside him as he went down towards his private dining room.

“Better, knowing you were safe.” He held open the door for her, allowing her to see the full breakfast spread that had been laid out. As they ate Bucky explained that he had a very important meeting today, so she was free to wander most of the house, but he would be busy. Once they finished, he showed her around a little bit and pointed out his office, which if the door is closed meant that he is busy.

He dropped her off at her room and gave her the number of Sam, so that if she couldn’t find something she could ask him instead. However, if it was an emergency, she was still to contact Bucky himself, but only in an absolute emergency.

Tony walked into Bucky’s office with his main man, leaving the others to help train the newbie. “Where’s Wilson? Isn’t he always here?” There was a mocking tone to his voice.

“It’s just Rogers with me today, but I could ask you that as well.” Bucky snarked back. This meeting was originally scheduled to talk about a deal of technology from Tony’s side. “Why did your men target an apartment in the off-limits zone?” He didn’t hold back any accusations.

“I didn’t order anything; how do I know that you didn’t do it and are trying to cover your tracks,” Tony remarked disliking the accusations. As Bucky went to respond his phone rang, and there were very few people whose calls would go through. Seeing that it was her calling he took a minute to step away to answer the call before coming back in a worse mood than he was before.

While wandering around the house, looking for the library she was told was somewhere, someone she had never met came up to her. “What are you doing in here?” He asked with a bite in his tone quickly grabbing her before she could move. She was gagged so that she could not speak or do anything. He pulled out his phone and texted his boss about the intruder who would be put in the basement for him to deal with after the meeting.

Her hands were bound with rope that he grabbed from a table in the basement, but she still managed to sneak her phone out of her pocket once he left. She did the one thing she was told to, but also told not to. She called Bucky.

“Is this an emergency?” He asked sounding annoyed.

“Well…” she mumbled out through the gag.

“I told you not to call me if it wasn’t an emergency. I need you to stop being a disruption, I let you stay here, and all that I asked in return was to not be bothered during meetings. I just hope that you didn’t ruin this.” He then hung up on her. She felt the tears welling in her eyes, even though she was used to being unwanted.

“Hey, Sam, do you think you could help me out?” She phoned him once she calmed down. He agreed and she explained what happened the best she could behind the gag in her mouth.

“I’m really sorry that happened. Bucky informed everyone that he had a guest staying over but I guess that dude didn’t read the message.” Sam led her out of the basement and back to her room.

“Thank you,” she whispered closing herself in her room, to start packing. Her bag was packed just as quickly as she unpacked it, and she decided that the best course of action was to leave through her window. She knows when she is no longer welcome in a place and Bucky had made it crystal clear. She had forgotten one thing in her big hurry, the broken pieces of crystal.

“Fuck.” That’s all that went through Bucky’s mind at the end of the meeting. Between Stark, having yelled at her, and this supposed intruder that he had to deal with, he was drained. First, he needed to get out his frustration, so dealing with the intruder was the first task on his list. His anger billowed beneath the surface. “If she hadn’t interrupted, Stark wouldn’t have had a chance to think up a story.” He mumbled as he headed down into the basement. Horror filled his expression, when he got down there and the room was empty, and looked untouched, which means one of two things; either he was lied to, or one of his men released the intruder.

“Hey, Boss, how did the meeting go?” Sam asked as he picked up the phone.

Bucky growled into the phone, “Do you know what happened with the intruder? Did someone release them?”

Sam was taken aback by the aggression that his boss was showing, he rarely got this mad, especially towards his men. “Umm, yeah, I let her out.”

He didn’t even get to finish before Bucky snapped. “Why the fuck would you do that Sam? Did you not think I already had enough on my plate?”

Confusion filled Sam as he tried to figure out how to explain. “She called me and explained the situation. If you had wanted her down there, why didn’t you inform me, instead of telling me to help show her around?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. “Wait, who was the intruder?” Sam explained that one of the other men put her down in the basement. His butterfly. Had that been why she was calling him; she had sounded muffled. Guilt began to curdle in his stomach. “Where did she go after?” He tried to calm his racing mind.

“She went back to her room; it was probably a scary experience for her. She was fighting back tears when I found her.” Swallowing down bile, Bucky thanked Sam before hanging up the phone. She hadn’t wanted to bother him, because she wasn’t physically in an emergency, but she had been mentally. But all he did was yell at her.

He didn’t know what he was going to say when he got to her room, but he needed to apologize. When he got there, he saw that the door was already open, but she wasn’t inside. None of her stuff was inside either. But there was something on the desk in the corner. And the window was open. He walked over to the desk and saw the bag of broken crystal and a note that sat in the middle of the desk.

“I’m sorry that I caused so many problems for you, Mr. Barnes, and I hope I didn’t ruin your meeting. Next time you bring a girl into your space, maybe make sure everyone knows that she is supposed to be there. Maybe we will meet again one day, but it would probably be best to try to avoid that. I will be out of the city in a few days, as to not cause you or Mr. Stark any problems. You will always be a dragonfly to me. You became a big point of change in my life, but it is only my beginning.

Signed, Butterfly.”

A few days. That was all he had to find her, and to beg her not to leave. How was he supposed to make this better? Had he already pushed her too far away? One of his men was excellent at fixing broken items, maybe that would be a starting place. He gathered the bag and went to make some phone calls.

She sat in the hotel room that she had rented for a few nights, and she tried to calm her mind and stop crying. She was used to not being able to stay somewhere too long, but she thought maybe she had found a place that she would have actually been welcome. A mob boss allowing her into his home, without knowing much about her. She got her hopes up, but she shouldn’t have. She knew better than that.

The phone that she was struggling to throw out, kept ringing on her nightstand. Showing his same caller id every ring. She couldn’t bring herself to answer because she couldn’t handle if he got anymore mad at her. What if he had wanted her to be tied up in the basement? She had been through torture before, but nothing hurt as bad as the thought of her dragonfly, being the one to break her.

A knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts, as she fiddled with the business card that Tony Stark had left at her apartment between her visits there. She tucked the card away and got up to open the door.

“Ah, I finally found you. I was sent here to find you, because we found out that there is a very important missing document that belongs to them now. It had to have been you because you are the only one who would have had access while your parents were alive.” His words hit her like a truck. He must have been the one who trashed her apartment. As he pulled rope out of the bag on his shoulder, she just shook her head.

“I never took any documents, but I will come with you willingly, if I get my job back. I can even try to help find said document.” She said as she gathered her things including the phone, she shouldn’t have taken with her.

“I cannot promise that they will agree to any of that, but I will take you to my boss. But if we find out that you were lying to us, you know what will happen.” She rolled her eyes as she agreed to go with the stranger back to where she lived for the first 15 years of her life.

“She won’t answer her phone!” Bucky growled when Sam and Steve entered the room. “Do either of you have good news for me?” They both just shook their heads.

“She had been staying at a hotel nearby, but she apparently just left, with some man. But the worker was able to catch the man’s license plate number, it is a rental car from near the airport. We asked them who rented it, and they told us that the name that was given was an alias, HYDRA. We haven’t figured out what it means yet, but I think we are close.” Sam gave a run down of the events of the last few hours.

“So you’re telling me that she left in a random man’s car, and he took her to the airport?” Steve nodded confirming Bucky’s fears. He got up and grabbed his phone to call the airport to ground all the flights, there was only one slight flaw with his plan, the community airport was in Stark’s territory.

“Barnes, why did you threaten my airport? You have your personal one, I thought we discussed this.” Stark’s voice rang through Bucky’s car as he sped toward the airport.

“I can fill you in on details later, I just need the flights grounded for now. I fear there is a danger on one of the flights.” Bucky sounded panicked which was unusual especially when talking to his competitor.

“Fine, you’ve intrigued me, I will ground the flights, but it will cost you. We can meet up to discuss price after.” Tony hangs up to ground the flights, but it wouldn’t make a difference, their flight had already left.

It had been a month since she left, Bucky hadn’t been able to sleep properly since then. His search for her hadn’t stopped, and he held onto hope that he would find her and that she would be okay when he did. Fear filled his nights with thoughts about her having been kidnapped or hurt by the mystery man.

It was late by the time she made it to the city. She was in a bind, and she knew coming here would be a mistake, but this was the closest place that she knew she could hide. Staying here long though was out of the question, especially when she had those men on her back. What she hadn’t known was that the important document had been stored inside her teddy bear, she had found it when she tried to sew a hole that occurred from its travels. She had been away from her home for over ten years, but she never noticed the deed of ownership for her city, was in her teddy bear this whole time. She knew she had been destined to take over for her parents, but she never truly knew if that was what she wanted.

Tony Stark had been filled in on Bucky’s search for his butterfly when the sleepless nights started to get to him. Sleep deprivation can cause people to do strange things, and for Bucky that was ask for help, from his competitor, nonetheless. So when his phone rang with an unknown number, he answered it.

She introduced herself, and then said words that Tony never expected to come from her. “I need help, hiding from someone. I will only be in the city a few days, but he will probably come looking for me after I am gone. His name is Brock Rumlow.”

Tony shocked himself by breathing a sigh of relief, at the fact that she wasn’t hiding from Barnes. “I can help.” He gave her his address and then they hung up as she started to head over.

“Barnes.” Tony called Bucky, hearing him groan when he picked up the phone.

“What Stark? What do you want at 3 in the morning?” Bucky put his clothes on knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

“You will never guess who just called me. Butterfly is in the city and needs help hiding from a man named, Brock Rumlow. If you want to have a chance to talk to her, I would suggest coming over as soon as possible.” The gasp that left Bucky’s mouth almost made Stark laugh, but he knew if it was Pepper in her place, he would react the same way, that Bucky is.

Time felt like it was going in slow motion and fast forward at the same time as Bucky flew down the streets on his motorbike, to Stark’s mansion. He pulled up to the front gates, and they opened for him so he parked near the front door but not to close, so that if she saw it, wouldn’t run away. Just then the front door opened to reveal his butterfly looking confused.

“Tony, there is no paper out here, and anyway why would they deliver at this time of the night.” As she turned to go back in, she caught a glimpse of Bucky standing staring at her. Tony had done this on purpose, of course he had. Her eyes dropped to her feet as he approached.

He could feel all her muscles tense before she relaxed into his embrace. He had missed her so much that he didn’t care that they were standing in the front yard of his competition. When he finally let her go, she gave him a small smile before heading back inside. He followed, wanting, no needing, to talk to her.

“If you two want to talk, your temporary room, would be the most private place.” Stark’s mansion was pretty much the opposite of Bucky’s. High tech and modern, compared to Bucky’s old-fashioned style. They often mocked each other for it, but right now all Bucky cared about was his butterfly. She nodded as she led Bucky up the stairs to the room she would be staying in for a little while, while she gathered her bearings. The first thing that caught his eye, was a crystal dragonfly she had sitting on the desk.

 “I’m sorry I was an ass for yelling at you. Sam explained the situation. I have been searching for you since the day you left. Where have you been all this time?” Bucky rambled out sitting on her bed.

“I was working, I knew I had overstayed my welcome in this city, so I went onto the next place. I accidently made someone very dangerous mad, so I just need to lay low and collect myself for a few days and then I will be on my way.” She walked over to look out the window.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind? I don’t want you to leave again. I found a home in you; you have brought me more peace than I have felt in a long time.” Bucky pleaded trying to hold himself together. He was staring at the ground, so he didn’t notice her walk over to where he was sitting to join him.

“Why would you want me to stay all I do is cause problems?”  She tried to get him to look at her. When their eyes met, she saw raw pain in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I was a jerk for making you believe that, you are the one who actually helps me, the one thing that brought me peace. Please, I promise I can keep you safe.”  He grabbed a hold of her hands to try and get his desperation across.

“You weren’t the first person to tell me that, and well you probably won’t be the last.” She sighed leaning into his touch.

“I will if I have any say about it. Please give me a chance. If nothing else come stay with me, while you lay low.” She gave him a smile as he pleaded with her. He pulled her into her arms when she gave him a small nod. Tony smiled as he watched the interaction, he said it would be the most private, but not completely private, that was still his competition. “I couldn’t help but notice the crystal dragonfly on the desk, where did you get it?”

She looked at the dragonfly on the desk and smiled. “I bought it from the same place that my parents got me my butterfly. It represents the change that has come to my life due to a handsome stranger, and while I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again, he reminded me of what my destiny is.” Her head pressed deeper into his chest out of comfort.

“And what, pray tell, is your destiny, Butterfly?” He asked leaning down to look her in the eyes.

“To lead. I was born to be a leader, and I was always a symbol of hope, for both my parents and the people they led.” She kept her response vague. Her heart pounded in her chest as he stroked her spine.

“My Butterfly, you are destined for great things, and I hope I can be by your side throughout it all.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head surprising her.

Very quietly she whispered into his chest, “I’d love that.” He just barely picked it up, his heart soaring at her words. He held her even closer to his chest, and then the door opened.

“Okay, love birds, I’m not offended that you would rather stay with him, and if you need anything from me, I will be happy to help, but please take all this lovey-doveyness back to your place Barnes,” Tony said as he leaned against the doorframe. Butterfly buried her face into Bucky’s chest out of embarrassment, causing him to laugh. Boy had she missed his laugh.

“Thank you, Stark. For taking care of, helping me find, and letting me know that my girl was in town. I am very grateful for your help.” Bucky stood to shake his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, just promise I get an invite to the wedding.” Tony joked as he shook Bucky’s hand. Giving Bucky one last wink, he left to let Butterfly pack.

“Butterfly, you left something behind when you were here last time,” Bucky mentioned as he carried her bag up to the room, she was staying in.

Holding up the imperfect crystal butterfly he said, “I had my man make sure that we could tell that it wasn’t perfect because I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to erase that or that I had just found a new one.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she reached out to grab the butterfly. “It’s perfect thank you so much.”

He was so happy that she loved it, and he silently vowed to do anything it took to see her that way. After having carefully set it down on the desk she gave him a big hug, pressing her lips to his chest in the process.

“Can we talk about this dude who is coming for you? Because I can take care of him, but don’t ask how you don’t want to know.” Bucky asked as they sat down for dinner the next day.

She just shook her head. “Fine, I will share the details but, I only want to explain it once so can we set up a meeting with Mr. Stark.”

That confused Bucky, why did she feel that Stark also had to be there? “Butterfly, I promise you, I and my men can handle him just fine.”

“I know, you think that, but the only way to take him and his mob down for good would be to work with Mr. Stark because Rumlow has years of passed down knowledge on me.” She said pacing the room and surprising Bucky with the use of the word mob.

“How long have you known I was a part of the mob, Butterfly?” She just smirked at his question.

“Since you came to my apartment that day, one you were armed, and two Steve and Sam are some of your men rather than your friends. I also recognized the crest that you each were wearing. It was easy to figure out from there that the other mob boss in this city is Mr. Stark, but the one thing that I was never able to figure out is why you two are willing to split a city, but not work together.” She cut herself off there so that she could wait for Stark to arrive. Knowing how tough Bucky liked to be, she knew he would not call Tony over unless his life depended on it, so she took matters into her own hands and texted him to come.

“Umm, boss? You didn’t inform us that Stark was coming by today, is everything okay?” Sam asked entering the room with Steve. Bucky went to answer but Butterfly was faster.

“He didn’t know, but no everything is not okay, but I will explain it to you all at once. Let’s go to Bucky’s office.” She led the way to the office greeting Stark on the way. Butterfly sat down in Bucky’s chair and motioned for the others to take a seat on the other side of the dark wooden desk.

“What is going on, Butterfly? How did you make his mob angry?” Bucky asked utterly confused by her vagueness.

“Since when does your girl know about the mob? And that Rumlow dude, has one?” Tony Stark was trying to catch up, but he wasn’t the only one who was lost.

“No, he is just a mobster part of the mob that calls themselves HYDRA, they however used to be called SHIELD before being corrupted.” They stared at her with blank expressions on their faces. She knew she had lost them.

“Butterfly, a mob can’t be corrupted, it can be taken over, but I don’t think there is a way to corrupt something that does organized crime.” Bucky inserted confused as to what she meant, thinking that maybe she used the wrong word.

“I used the right word, but I guess I should explain everything from the very beginning.” She adjusted herself so she was sitting on the edge of the chair to appear more serious. “My parents were mob bosses together. They loved each other more than anyone I had ever met, and while they didn’t want to put their child at risk, they were willing to give up everything in order to have a child. It turned out that they struggled with serious fertility issues due to my mother having been tortured as a young child, by her parents' enemy. After years of treatment and trying, my mother finally became pregnant. However it was at one of the worst times possible, there was no way for them to give up the mob at that time because they were in the middle of a war.”

The shock that covered everyone’s faces made her smile; she knew more than they imagined. “Luckily, my mother was never one who did fieldwork, she was the strategist. I’m told that when I was born the war ended, and my parents, knew that I was destined to become a leader one day. I was given that crystal butterfly, for the nickname my parents had given to me when I was born, because I was a symbol of hope for my parents, for the future. Later when I was revealed to the community, I became a symbol of hope for them as well. I should explain something about my parents. They were absolutely ruthless when it came to anyone who tried to hurt me. They were surprisingly kind to the community, and they could be quite mean to their enemies. The community didn’t fear them, but they respected and relied on them.” She fiddled with the papers sitting on Bucky’s desk, while the others processed what she had told them so far.

“They sound like great people,” Steve added trying to ease some tension in the room.

“Yeah, they were the best. So I was kept a secret for my own safety for the first 9 ish years of my life, but I was also trained in self-defence just in case I needed it. I grew up surrounded by my parents’ people, and a few of them had children of their own that they would allow me to hang out with. But never in public. I’ll be honest, I rarely ever went in public, and even less with my parents. However I do remember one day I was out with my parents, we were driving somewhere when I was 15. I was relaxed in the backseat, while my father drove. They rarely ever drove, and I still sometimes wonder, if we hadn’t would one of them be alive, or would I be dead.” She had to look away, because the look of sadness in Bucky’s eyes, almost had her in tears.

“It was a thunderstorm that day. I remember as a loud crack of thunder happened, a bullet was shot and killed both my father and mother, causing the car to crash. I always assume that they thought the crash would have killed me. That’s why they didn’t aim a bullet for the back seat. I was not in great shape when I got out, but I was alive, and due to my training in patching up wounds, having worked with our mob doctor, for years, I was able to make it back home to pack a bag. I had tossed it out the window of my bedroom, and was getting ready to climb out, when I was taken down to the basement to be tortured until I promised to sign over the mob, or what the man I once knew as a friendly face hoped for instead, I died.”

Bucky stood up upon hearing this unable to hide his rage anymore. But he realized that is why she had been so terrified when they first met. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you afraid of your apartment that day if you had been through all of this, Butterfly?” He asked curious to know her mind.

“Well, I was worried it was a local mob boss wanting to collect some money as protection, because as I learned from my travels, after I escaped the torture, while he wasn’t looking, making a deal leads to my identity being discovered and well, I could never stay somewhere people knew who I was because this isn’t some small new mob I’m dealing with. And he has years of knowledge about me, and my weaknesses, especially since most of them were present when I was training. So the thought of being found was not ideal. But when Rumlow came to my hotel room, after the incident, he said that his boss was willing to forget me escaping, if I gave him the document he needed, in order for him to have any sway with the other mobs. It was the deed to the part of the city my parents owned. When I was born, they put it inside my teddy bear, so that even if I tried to leave this life, I would take their legacy with me. I found it while I was sewing the bear back up in my old bedroom, but Rumlow caught me reading the document. So I shoved it into my bag and fled.” She exhaled trying to make sure she included all the details.

“The only place that I knew I would be able to hide in for a little while that was close enough was here, but I know they will be following me, so if I am not going to live the rest of my life on the run, I am going to need both of your help.” She sunk back into the chair from worry, and the mental exhaustion those memories created.

Nobody said anything at first, and she started to worry that they wouldn’t help her. She felt two strong arms pick her up and sit down with her in his lap. “Butterfly, I am so sorry that you had to go through all that, of course, we will help you. Right Stark?” Bucky gave a pointed look to Tony.

“Of course, you have become one of us, and we protect our own, even if she happens to be fraternizing with the competition.” Stark loved to joke even in times like this, which a lot of people said wouldn’t make a good boss, but he is one of the best.

[raplinesmoon]

Just Jin (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: Barbie!reader x Ken!Seokjin genres/au/rating: angst (with a happy ending!), fluff, Barbie au, break-up au, PG-13 summary: After a trip to the real world, you and Jin both come to a realization that will change your lives forever.

warnings: break-ups, sadness, existential crisis, mentions of doctor's appointments

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I'm still working on mafia!Hoseok but listen my brain has been wired since I came out of the Barbie movie earlier today. It legitimately changed me as a person, and I felt inspired to create this bc I think Jin gives off such Ken energy. This is based on but also slightly altered from the Barbie movie, and as such, it will contain massive spoilers for the movie, so read at your own risk (go see the movie tho)! Anyways this was just a fun, goofy indulgent drabble that made my heart warm, and I hope you enjoy!

Tip-toeing through the dream house, you try to ignore the sensation of your feet cramping. After learning the wonders of being flat-footed, standing on your heels was no joke. No wonder women in the real world complained about wearing stilettos all the time. But right now wasn’t about the pain women felt to conform to societal expectations of beauty. There were centuries to go before those outdated notions of what it meant to be a successful woman were squashed. Right now, there was something more pressing you had to deal with.

Things had changed since you left. The dream house seemed more like a nightmare, its pristine pink walls besmirched with posters of sports icons and various forms of taxidermy. You frown to yourself. This wasn’t the house you’d known. The life you’d lived before with Jin seemed nothing more than a distant memory, both of you tainted by your experiences in the real world.

Jin. Speaking of him, you knew you had to find him. When you’d learned from the others that he’d gone off the rails, worry clouded your mind. Not just for him, but for all the others – Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook too. They were all so impressionable, more fragile than they let on. It scared you to think of the state you might find him in right now. And that’s when you hear it.

The sound is muffled, but you can barely make it out against the quiet that nightfall brings. It’s a choked sob, guttural and raw in its devastation. And it’s coming from your bedroom. Ignoring the newfound feeling of your heart clutching in your chest, you square up your shoulders, ready to face what lay ahead. And then you head upstairs.

The door creaks as it opens, and you flinch, hoping the sound won’t give away your entry into the room. But there’s no response. Feeling braver, you push it wider and gasp at the state of everything. For all the horses and saloon decorations Jin had implemented downstairs, the upstairs of your dream house is pristine. Exactly untouched the same way you’d left it. The pearls on your lampstand glisten in the moonlight, the walls are free of garish posters, and the same plush pink and purple sheets adorn your bed. And in the middle of it, Jin lies facedown, unmoving.

Freezing, you take him in, noticing how small he looks right now, curled up into himself. Jin had always been larger than life – his windshield wiper laugh echoing down the entire beach, his dad jokes catching the admiration of everyone around him, a smile plastered onto his stupidly handsome face with those perfectly pouty lips. He’s wearing the same sleeveless denim outfit you’re always used to seeing him in, unlike the other boys, who’d bought into new and more trendy fashions. 

If he feels the bed dip when you sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. You finally reach for him, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Jin?” you whisper softly. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t move. Your heart sinks, knowing how difficult this was for both of you. But you needed to do this.

“Can we please talk?

That’s what gets him to rise, silky black hair disheveled and eyes rimmed with the red of his tears.

“What could you possibly want to talk about?” he croaks out, sniffling into his sleeve. “Everything is ruined.”

The same guilty feeling bubbles up in your chest, knowing part of him is right. Everything had been ruined. But not in the way you’d expected. When you and Seokjin had entered the real world, you’d been unprepared to have your lives change forever. No matter how much you tried to pretend that things could just go back to the same way they’d been before, they couldn’t. And both of you knew it.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you let out a sob of your own. “I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Jin hardens at your sobs, straightening up, the sadness on his face morphing into a mask of fury.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” he bellows. “Sorry doesn’t cut it! This was supposed to be our dream house, ___! That's why I went through all the stupid decorations and the revamp! You think I like saloons? No! But this was supposed to be our dream! Us, together! It’s always been ___ and Jin. I don’t know how to be anything without you! I don’t want anything to change. I love you!”

You embrace his trembling body, pulling it in close to yours.

“I love you too Jin. I always have, and I always will. But I’m not sure that love is enough anymore.”

Jin pulls away from you, and you watch his eyes widen in surprise, giving you the strength to go on.

“When we were out there, something changed. I realized that while what we had was perfect, it’s okay to not be perfect all the time. Not everything is a dream come true. Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want them to, and that’s life. A-and I want to experience life Jin. I’m sick of just smiling all the time. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to laugh. And I want that for you too.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you,” Jin breathes out softly. “It feels like I failed you.”

“Hey,” you reach out to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t fail me, or anyone else, okay? You’re enough. Maybe it’s time for us to stop being ___ and Jin. And to be just ___. And just Jin.”

He looks up at you, stars in his eyes, and you can see the sadness intertwined with hopefulness. “You really think we can find something better out there? Something that makes leaving this all behind worth it?”

You take his hand in yours.

“I know we can. And we will. But we can’t do it together. At least not right now.”

A tiny smile breaks out onto his face. “But maybe someday?”

You hesitate, not wanting to believe in false hope only to turn out devastated in the end. But Jin needed something to believe in. And so did you.

“Maybe someday, when we both have found out what makes us happy, what our reason is to live, we’ll find love again. We both deserve it.”

And Jin crumples for a second time in your arms that night, only this time it’s not from devastation. It’s the kindness in your voice that has him desperately believing that you could be right. That maybe someday both of you would figure out what these strange and complex emotions were - joy, happiness, fun. And real love. True love. They were, after all, what being a human was all about.

You thank the taxi driver, hopping out of the vehicle. Flexing your feet, you remark at how comfortable the new pink slides feel on them, your heels no longer arched and uncomfortably cramping. The sales associate had called them Birkenstocks, and you make a mental note to go back and buy a few other colors. 

The building is tall, sleek and modern not unlike the scary headquarters of some rich corporation that seeks to swindle the money of innocent consumers. But today, you’re not scared to go inside this building. You’re excited.

The excitement follows you up the elevator, a smile on your face. Hearing the ding! for your floor, you make your way out, when you’re stopped by the old woman next to you.

“You have a beautiful smile, dear.”

That only makes it grow wider.

“Thank you, you look beautiful too.”

You don’t know why, but the serene and dazed look on her face stays with you as you enter the glass doors to the office.

Making your way to the front desk, you practice the carefully rehearsed lines in your head. When you reach it, the receptionist is tapping away at the keyboard. 

“Hi!” You say brightly. “My name is ___ ____. I’m here for my gynecologist appointment!”

The receptionist finally peers out from behind the screen and you suck in a breath. Something about him seems so familiar. Broad shoulders, pouty lips, dark hair. But in your entire human life, you never recalled seeing him before. The weird sense of deja vu continues when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Nice to meet you, ___, and welcome to Bangtan Center for Women’s Health. My name is Ken Seokjin and I’ll be happy to help you get checked in today!”

You don’t know why you flush at his words, but you fidget with your fingers behind your back, hoping he can’t see you.

“Great Mr. Ken! It’s my first time here, so I’m kind of nervous.”

“Just call me Jin,” he smiles. “I’m happy to help out.”

He pauses for a moment, ears turning red, before continuing on:

“Say, you look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” you grin, before faltering. “But I don’t think so.”

“Well in that case, it’s nice to meet you again.” He reaches out over the counter, offering his hand, and you don't hesitate before enveloping it in yours, shivering at its warmth.

“Nice to meet you as well, just Jin.”

a/n pt. 2:  I realize this kind of deviated from the movie and some of its themes, but I had to make it work with their relationship hehe. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi &lt;3

[brandyllyn]

Cross My Heart

Ezra x f!reader

Summary: "I do not know who I am when I am half a man." Words: 5.7k

For the #pedrostoriesgift23 Holiday Gift Exchange and the lovely @oonajaeadira who is my secret giftee! Your prompt was :

Romance, soft, yearning, hopeful. F!reader. If there's a kiss involved, I wouldn't complain. Random prompt: heart.

Hope you enjoy it, as per usual Ezra got a little (a lot) away from me.

My Masterlist

Rated: Teen Warnings: Talk of self harm / suicide but no one does it, discussion of medical procedures and prostheses, some use of ability based slurs by Ezra and others, canon typical violence, hint of spice

The smell hit him first.

Sterile, antiseptic. There was no tang of iron, or the almost vinegary smell of the Green. No dirt, no grime, no unwashed bodies or hint of explosives. Not the sweet stench of decay.

It smelled wrong.

Ezra grimaced as he scanned his identicard, watching the numbers flash up and a younger, cockier version of himself stared down from the screen. The picture was from before his first trip. Before he’d left the inner rings to find his luck in the reaches. Long before the Green.

A line of text directed him to sit in the waiting area and he glanced over the occupants. An older man in a wheelchair sat in the corner, head leaning forward and a line of drool dripping onto one thigh as he snored loudly. He was missing both legs above the knee. A few feet away, a scrawny teenager furtively glanced around the room with one eye, the other an empty hole she hadn’t bothered to cover. A woman with her left arm amputated below the elbow. A man around his age who had the pale, sickly yellow tinged skin that denoted liver failure. Another wheelchair. Another amputee. The room was full of those who had lost something. 

He felt right at home.

The Emric Chan Prosthesis Clinic welcomed everyone - the most destitute scavenger could come on their free clinic day and if the stars aligned have their life changed. The doctor he’d seen on the sling had recommended it to him. He couldn’t afford anything better than a hook but if he was chosen here he’d get a neurobionic arm.

A fresh start.

He finally chose a seat next to a woman near his age, maybe a bit younger. She was missing her forefinger on her right hand, a place she fidgeted with as he watched. Running the thumb of her other hand across it and grimacing as though it still hurt. He could understand that. Though it had been months since he lost his arm the stump still twinged occasionally.

“How long have you been waiting?”

Her eyes met his and he noted their pretty color, the ring of lashes that framed them and the soft “oh” her lips made before she answered. “I got here this morning.”

He frowned, “That’s hours ago, are they struggling to see people today?”

She snorted and a small smile pulled at her lips. She was quite pretty. “First time?”

He smiled in return, “I am a veritable virgin sacrifice to these halls.”

A laugh escaped her and she quickly covered her mouth, glancing around the room to see if anyone noticed. “I doubt that.”

He wanted to hear that laugh again. “In this I am yet a babe in the woods. I take it that it is not as straightforward as arriving in a timely fashion for my appointment?”

“No,” a fidget again as she tangled her fingers together. “They’ve got this algorithm. It looks at how dire your situation is, what kind of prostheses they have, what doctors are available… I don’t really understand it. You see Alaric in the corner?” She tipped her chin to the man snoring in the wheelchair and Ezra nodded. “He’s been coming here longer than I have. Once a month for the free clinic, just like us. He’s never even been called back.”

It seemed to Ezra that the loss of both legs might be considered a more dire situation than his single arm. “That is not exactly comforting.”

A small shrug. “It’s what it is, and for those of us with no other options… at least it’s hope.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, sprawling his legs in front of him and staring at the toe of his boot. “I do not have much hope, I’m afraid.”

She gave him a wan smile. “It is a long shot. I’ve been coming for almost a year. There’s also precedence they follow, even more so than your need. People from Ceti Alpha IV, some old families if you can prove you’re related, miners, colonists from-”

Ezra sat bolt upright. “Hold a moment there, did you say miners?”

“Yeah, the guy who founded this place made his money out in the reaches. One of their protected classes are IMC members.”

The Interstellar Mining Cooperative. Why hadn’t he thought of it? He was a member, at least he was pretty sure he was. They had some sparse benefits that he had never made much use of - but the appended callsign had landed him a few premier docking spaces and discounts on the sling. He hadn’t thought about it in years, yet the membership should have renewed unless something had changed.

“And if I were an IMC member?”

Her smile faltered a moment before returning. “Then yeah, you’ll jump to the front unless there’s another miner with something more serious.”

A flush of joy spread over him and he fumbled with his data pad. It took longer than it should, he was yet unused to working solely with his left hand, but soon he had his member page in his hand, a bright gold chisel in the corner.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He turned the data pad to show her. “It seems my luck has finally turned.”

Her nod was accompanied by another tight smile and she let out a soft sigh as she settled back into her chair. “I guess there’s always next time.”

“Do not look so forlorn, gem,” his grin was so wide it almost hurt. “While the loss of a digit is inconvenient, I assure you things could be worse.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, where nine fingers were intertwined. Brows drawing together she frowned for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose so. You should update your file, make sure you’re seen today if they can.”

He rose to his feet and then paused. Quickly, he dropped to one knee in front of her and reached out with his remaining hand to take her injured one. “You didn’t have to tell me, I would have never known. Thank you.”

“If it’s not you it would have been someone else.” Her eyes were sparkling and he wondered if they were tears. “There’s always someone who takes the slot. Always.”

“I cannot offer you a new digit, I myself am down to only five, but I would like to offer you dinner. If you would like?”

A moment of uncertainty passed before she nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They traded identifications and he couldn’t help but look back as he crossed to the check-in. She had her hands pressed together to her chest, her lips resting on the back of one thumb.

He wondered if she was praying.

She wasn’t going to show.

Ezra tapped his fingers on the table and glanced around the room. It wasn’t the nicest place in the Narrows, but not the worst either. The food was good and if it came with a side of attitude in the basement of a pawn shop, who was he to judge?

The numbers on his watch clicked over and he sighed. He was in an extraordinarily good mood and she was ruining it. 

With a grunt he pulled the menu up on the table and selected a bottle of synthehol. It didn’t taste as good as the real thing, or so he was told, but it gave as good of a buzz as any. It arrived a moment later and he flicked the top off with practiced ease. Pouring his glass he held it to the light for a moment and then let a slow grin overtake his face.

He was getting a new arm.

A GH7 Neurobionic Prosthesis to be exact. Top of the line with a lifetime guarantee. 

A lifetime guarantee.

That would be enough to get everything back on track. To go back to prospecting if he wanted. According to the pamphlet the prosthesis would connect directly into his nervous system. The skin tone would match and he would be able to feel everything as though it was his original arm. In short, it would be as though it never happened. There were even opportunities to upgrade - if he could scare up the credits - and add in sensors and utilities that might help his life someday.

“Ezra?”

The soft voice jolted him from his reverie and he saw her standing nearby, a blue grey tunic belted at the waist and a pair of grey trousers underneath. A black armband peeked out from her sleeve. In a burst of motion he leapt to his feet, throwing his arm around her and pulling her into half an embrace.

“Darling, you came!” With a quick shuffle he led her to the other side of his table, letting her go long enough to pull the chair out and settle her into it. “May I offer you a libation? I have had finer vintages but it is quite nice in its own right.” At her nod he filled a glass for her, cheeks nearly hurting from the smile that wreathed his face when he sat across from her.

“I do not have the words to express my gratitude for your help this afternoon.” He pulled the menu up and spun it her direction. “Please, order whatever you like. This is my treat.”

“So I take it you qualified?”

“Passed with flying colors! My surgery is five spans hence.”

“That’s so good, just in time for the Prophet’s Name Day!” She flipped through the menu and ordered, flicking the holo away. “A basic unit or…?”

Taking it as a prompt he launched into the details of his new arm, pulling the brochure up on his data pad and showing her the specs. She made the appropriate oohing and ahhing noises as he did so, leaning in and pointing out some of the finer details such as the heating elements and pulse that would make it mimic the original even more closely than he had thought.

“It truly is a dream,” he sighed when he had finally finished. “And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t…” He swallowed, glancing away and feeling a flush come over him. “I must admit I was having thoughts of a rather permanent nature.”

Her hand came out to cover his, fingers intertwining. “Don’t talk like that.”

He turned his hand over in hers, returning her grip with a fierce squeeze, “I do not know who I am when I am half a man. My livelihood depends on the use of both - on the security of its presence. Without it… I ask you, what use would I be?”

“A man is more than his use, Ezra,” she scolded softly.

A shake of his head cut her off before she could continue. “Not for me. I am not made to be idle, nor to live on the charity of others. Had this not worked, had you not been there, well, I have cheated death enough to not begrudge her her final say.”

The look she gave him was commiserating but she didn’t argue. “I get it, sometimes it seems easier to just let go than it is to hope.”

“Oh, I have hope now, starshine, you have given me hope.”

She pulled her hand away and took a sip of her drink. “I didn’t do anything. You would have figured it out on your own.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “or maybe I would have let yet another chance at happiness pass me by.“ He gave her a considering look. She was pretty, in a way he might have overlooked in different circumstances. He had always been one to chase the flashy, to always be looking to the next thing and ignore what was in front of him. Maybe it was time to rethink that strategy.

“I don’t reckon you would be amenable to seeing me again?”

She looked away for a moment, lips pressed together as she nodded almost shyly. “I’m also in the ‘take a chance’ ship these days, and you seem nice.”

He laughed, “I can honestly say that no person has ever graced me with the moniker ‘nice’ before, but for you I shall strive to meet your aspirations.”

A grin played on her lips and she met his eyes. “Well, handsome then.”

“I am delighted that you think so,” he grinned in return. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your life before you found yourself seated in this lovely establishment this evening?”

They spoke for hours. About her time working in the dockyards, the early deaths of her parents, and the unscrupulous manager that necessitated her move to the Narrows. In return he spoke of the brother he had lost in the silicon mines, the various adventures he had been on while alone, and of Cee.

“A spitfire if ever I have seen one,” he claimed as a bot cleaned the table next to them. “She’s the reason you find me with less than the standard number of limbs.”

“Oh really?” She seemed shocked. “And you’re still taking care of her?”

“I am not ashamed to admit that I have not always been the best of men - when survival is on the line I can be positively ruthless. And Cee, well… Cee is much like myself. There is a spark in her, a fight. It is a trait I wish to nurture.”

“I don’t know if I could be like that,” she responded. “Be so heartless I hurt someone else just to save myself.”

“I’m wounded you think me so pitiless. Perhaps you could give me a chance to show you my softer side?”

He expected her to turn timid - everything he had learned about her so far gave the picture of a woman who was not prone to rash decisions or impulsiveness. So he was pleasantly surprised when she grinned at him.

“I could be convinced.”

He walked her home, of course. He liked to think himself a gentleman and was nothing if not an opportunist. Which was why when she tilted her head to his at her door he instantly swooped in, reaching out to pull her hips to his and slanting his mouth across hers. He groaned when she arched against him, biting at her lip before pulling back and giving her a slow smile.

“Would you like to come inside?”

His smile widened and he lifted a hand to brush against her cheek. At least, he would have had it been there. He could even see it, the calloused hand with the short fingernails gently tracing what he knew must be soft skin. 

But the absence jolted him from his good mood and he took a step away from her with a grimace. “I would like to be whole if we ever…”

She took his hand in hers, stepping into his space again. “You know I don’t care about that, right Ezra?”

Giving her a wane smile he nodded, “I do know that. But I care.”

“Then I understand.” After a pause she gave him a mischievous grin, “But we can still kiss, can’t we?”

“We absolutely can do that,” he assured her, backing her into the door and closing the distance between them once more. “As often as you’ll allow.”

Her only answer was a low moan that rumbled into his skin and set him afire.

It was going to be a long six spans.

“You don't have to go with me.”

Ezra guided her around a group of teenagers and chuckled as he squeezed her tighter. “You act as though it is a burden to spend time with you.”

“It’s boring. I know, I've been doing it for a cycle.”

It was free clinic day and Ezra had shown bright and early at her flat with a bag of pastries to help her start the morning. She had seemed surprised by his arrival, wrapping a shawl over her shoulders but inviting him in for morning caf and together they had devoured the pastries before she began her trek to the other end of the City.

“It's no trouble, it will give me time to think on my own matters.”

She smiled at a vendor and he gave the man a once over before dismissing him.

“Matters like if you want to include a full arm tattoo?”

He snorted. “The thought occurred but it holds no charm for me. Rather, I've been trying to remember if I had a mole on my pinky or not.”

“Isn’t there a whole saying about knowing things like the back of your hand?”

He stopped her with a slight tug, pulling her into an alcove. With a quick movement he covered her hand with his. “Do you have any?”

She frowned. “On the outside of the back, I think? More like a freckle.”

“Anything else? Scars? Do you know how long your nail beds are?”

She huffed and tugged her hand free, crooking a smile and pointing out the freckle. “For the nail beds, I’d just have them match the other hand.”

“Ah starshine,” he wrapped his arm around her waist again, “your skin is far more unblemished than mine. It will be strange to see skin as marred as mine was - but perhaps it is better to have a clean slate? These are the question that plague me.”

“It’s not-”

Someone shoved into her and she fell against him suddenly. He lifted his other arm to catch her but nothing moved but the short stump. Thrown off balance they both stumbled and, after seeing to her well-being, he rounded on the perpetrator with a fierce frown.

“Watch where you are going.” The man was around his size, maybe an inch taller. Ezra sized him up in a glance, a street thug who would barely be worth the effort of a fight if it came to it.

“Keep your pumbavu bitch out of my way.”

Ezra carefully shifted his expression to the smoothly friendly one he reserved for wayward prospectors who happened to cross his path with more gems than sense.

“There is no need for that kind of language, friend, there is plenty of room for us all.” He gestured at the narrow sidewalk. “Perhaps an apology and we can all be on our way?”

“Apologize?” the man snorted. “To some ampee and whoever was pathetic enough to take your credits?”

“This is your warning,” Ezra told him slowly, shifting his stance and reaching for the knife in his belt. “There will not be another.”

“And what are you going to do? Shoulder me to death?”

Ezra barely waited for him to finish the sentence, palming the blade and slashing out in nearly the same motion. He heard the soft gasp from behind him but ignored her, all of his concentration on the man in his sights. The blade whistled through air and Ezra adjusted, stepping forward and flipping the blade around to catch him on the backswing. From his peripheral he saw the punch coming from his right and raised his hand to block it.

With nothing there the blow caught him squarely in the jaw, sending him reeling back as his vision danced. The force of it made him drop his blade and he heard it clatter to the metal grates beneath their feet before slipping through and disappearing below.

“Prophet’s nutsack, I’ll fucking-”

Suddenly she was there, between them, throwing her arms out and pleading with the man. “Please, this is all a misunderstanding. No one’s hurt, can’t we just leave it at that?”

Ezra, for one, felt hurt but he didn’t say anything about it, shaking his head and trying to stop his ears from ringing.

“Tell your cripple boyfriend to mind his own business.”

Snarling, Ezra prepared to launch himself at the man once more but she had his cheeks in her hands and the concerned look on her face quelled his ire.

“Are you okay? How’s your head?”

“It will be fine, I’ve had worse.”

“Ezra…” she chided, “what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that rat needed a lesson in manners.” She laughed and he realized suddenly how petulant he sounded. “Are you okay, starshine?”

She laid a hand to her chest, “My heart is racing. That can’t be good for me.”

“A little adrenaline keeps you young.”

She gave him a wan smile even as she took deep, steadying breaths. Holding a finger to the pulse point on her wrist she stood a moment longer before she seemed satisfied. “Don’t do things like that, okay?”

“I can make you no promises,” he held an elbow out for her to take and continued them on their way. “I am a man more suited to fight than flight.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Ezra nodded absently, the white walls around him almost mocking in their sterility. His life was about to change and here he was sitting on a paper covered bed in little more than a nightgown.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to tell Cee?”

“No,” he cut her off quickly, running his hand through his hair and likely ruffling it beyond recovery. “Cee does not need to know of any of this until it is finished.”

She was bustling around the room, folding his clothes into a neater pile and tossing him concerned glances. “I can’t believe you feel more guilty about her than she does about shooting you.”

Ezra shrugged. It was a discussion they had had before and he knew she didn’t understand. She didn’t need to, but he liked that she was trying. 

“Trust me, starshine, she feels exactly as much guilt as she should for her actions.” He caught her arm as she went by again and pulled her to stand between his legs. Pulling her hand to his lips he kissed the spot where her finger was missing. “Are you planning to rearrange the entire room?”

“I’m nervous,” she admitted, leaning into his embrace and settling her head on his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait here for you?”

“Absolutely not.” He pushed her away so that he could meet her eyes so she would know how serious he was. “Assuming all goes well I will come find you after, don’t you worry about that.”

She didn’t ask what he would do if it didn’t go well - and he didn’t know what his answer would have been regardless.

“HG460372 Theta?”

The voice at the doorway sounded bored and Ezra glanced up as it read off his IMC number. 

“Present.”

“Follow me.”

He slipped off the table and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’ll see you this evening. Wait up for me?”

“I’d wait forever for you.”

For that she got one more quick kiss before he followed after the nurse.

Ezra flexed his fingers, noting the fine brown hairs on his knuckles and the small scar at the base of his thumb. With his left hand he pressed two fingers to his wrist, feeling the steady pulse. The skin wrinkled and moved as he tested it, marveling at the fine interconnected lines.

“Ezra?”

He whipped his head up. He hadn’t even noticed the door sliding open. But there she was, her eyes wide and lips parted as she stared at his new arm. 

At his whole self.

“Oh Ezra, how does it-”

He cut her off with a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her towards him even as he backed her into her small flat. Fingertips felt the hairs at the top of her spine, felt the give of her skin, felt the warmth of her.

“Ezra,” she managed to push him away slightly even as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Show me the-”

“I want to feel you, starshine.” They were at her sofa now and he carefully pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist with his knees before pulling away. “We can speak of the particulars at a more opportune time.”

She giggled and yanked him back to her and he caught himself on his prosthetic. He could feel the rough weave of the upholstery even as he shifted his weight so he could use his right hand to undo the buttons of her shirt.

“The doctors told me I should practice my fine motor skills,” he pushed her shirt apart and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. The soft material of her bra gave beneath his fingers and he traced upwards to pull the cup down before he felt something new. 

“What is this?” With a sly grin he traced his fingers over the faint ridges running from her breast up to her shoulder. “A body modification? Do you have others? A tattoo perhaps?”

She faltered, her smile freezing on her face. “Can we not talk about that, Ezra?”

“Ah, a youthful indiscretion? I understand.” He helped her shrug her shirt off and his eyes caught on the band of black encircling her left upper arm. He’d noticed it before, not really giving it much thought. But now that it was exposed he could see that the lines under her skin ran directly to it.

“I must admit you have my curiosity, am I allowed to remove this or-”

She sat up so quickly she nearly brained him, only his quick reflexes allowing him to rear back and avoid a broken nose.

“Do not!”

He spread his fingers wide, noting with pride how strong both of his hands looked. “I will not if you do not wish it, of course, but I should know the bounds of what I can and cannot do. May I touch it at all?”

A deep breath lifted her breasts and he tried to ignore the motion while she gathered herself.

“It’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Then I will not.” He lowered his hands to grip her wrists, massaging the skin with his fingers. “Your secrets are your own, but I hope you will allow me one more question?” At her nod he lifted her left hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Is it dangerous? A drug of some kind?”

“No.” A long silence stretched before she elaborated. “It’s a battery pack.”

Slowly, he let his fingers trace over the edges of the band, following the lines embedded into her skin until they disappeared into her chest. Under the pads of his fingers he could hear the steady, delicate thump of her heart. “A battery pack?”

She didn’t answer but he didn’t need her to. At once the realization crashed on him and he cursed, damning himself for an idiot as he realized how oblivious he had been.

“The clinic - you are not visiting to get your finger replaced, are you?”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Starshine, why didn’t you say something? I could have-”

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she interrupted, suddenly taking his hand with her own.

“I could have given you my spot.” He clenched his fist, staring at the ripple of tendons and wires. “I could have forced them to see you instead.”

“Really? You told me you were days from killing yourself if the clinic hadn’t worked out.”

Ezra didn’t reply, his mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts. A month ago he would have agreed. Told her that to live even a moment longer as a cripple was too much. But now…

“I could have waited my turn, if it meant you getting yours.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she shrugged. “You can’t give up your place like that.”

He laid a palm flat to her chest. “How long?”

“The cardiac unit is a stopgap, they gave me eight months if all went well.”

He stilled, fingers briefly clutching at her. “And how long ago was that?”

“A full cycle.”

“A year,” he croaked, feeling as though perhaps all of his hair had turned white with that statement. “But…”

She pressed her hand to his, over her chest. “It was longer than I ever expected. I fell into the stasis field at the shipyards a year ago - it totally fried my system.” 

“And so you need a new heart.”

“A Yutani-7 artificial heart to be exact, but yeah. Can we get back to the kissing now?”

Ezra leaned back as she reached for him and then couldn’t help a wry smile at her exaggerated pout. “Starshine, you can’t spring a terminal condition on a man and expect him to perform for you.”

She tried to give him a seductive look but betrayed herself with a soft sniffle. “I ruined it didn’t I?”

Shifting to lie next to her, Ezra pulled her into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin and petting down her back. “You ruined nothing. I am only morose you did not tell me sooner so I might have had time to come to terms with the knowledge before being asked to ravish you.”

“So is ravishing off the table then?”

She sounded so forlorn he couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not, but perhaps tonight is not the time-”

It was a marvel she managed to surprise him, leveraging herself upwards and yanking his face down to hers in a wild, rough kiss. When she finally broke away for air they were both panting.

“I don’t know how much time I have left, Ezra.”

“An uncharitable blow, starshine.”

“Please.”

Well, who was he to deny a woman who begged so sweetly?

“I have a surprise for you.”

She blinked up at him wearily, a confused frown on her face before she answered. “What?”

“A surprise,” he whipped the blanket from over her, smiling at the adorable bundle of fleece and sweaters she was wrapped in beneath. “Are you cold?”

“Poor circulation,” she mumbled as she slowly sat up, rubbing a hand across her eyes. “Side effect of - you know. What do you mean a surprise?”

Letting his smile slip he sat at the edge of the couch, settling his hand on her knee. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold, a little out of breath. Pretty normal stuff all things considered. What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now would it?” He jumped to his feet, yanking a sweater from a nearby chair and holding it out to her. “Here, I don’t want you to be cold.”

“Ezra, why are you bleeding?”

He glanced down at his arm, at the thin tendrils of synthetic red liquid that rose from a series of scratches that ran the length of his forearm. “No reason, come on.”

She caught his hand but he quickly shook her off, bustling her into the sweater and out her door. One of her neighbors had set out candles for Name Day and he carefully steered her around them.

“If I can’t ask why you’re bleeding can I ask why you have a black eye?”

“You may not,” he responded cheerily.

“Ezra…”

He pulled her close to his side and navigated her out of the alley. “I must ask that you hold your queries until the end of the day, starshine. All will be revealed in time.”

A soft huff escaped her but she didn’t say anything, letting him lead her through the underbelly of the city and to a building they both knew far too well.

“Ezra it’s not the right day,” she told him as he led her to a side entrance.

“You are correct.” He pulled the door open and ushered her inside. A long hallway stretched in front of them and Ezra walked down it with confidence until he found the office he was looking for. A man was sitting behind the desk, his grey lab coat marred by a spot of blood and a drawn look on his face.

“Is this the patient?”

“It is,” Ezra responded as he sat her in a chair. “And you have the item?”

“They’re not easy to find, you know. I had to forge about ninety seven different manifests.”

“Ezra…” she whispered, eyes wide, but he cut her off with a squeeze to her shoulder.

“And will that complicate matters?”

The doctor steepled his fingertips above the desk and sighed. “It won’t.”

“Good, good.” Ezra was pacing behind her, darting glances around the room and flexing his prosthetic arm as though worried it might remember its origins in a room nearby. “So you can begin?”

“My family?”

“Safe,” his smile had a hard edge and he didn’t try to hide the knife at his belt. “For now.”

“Then let’s get this done.”

The doctor rose and she rose with him, a look of concern marring her perfect features. “What have you-?”

“If harm befalls her,” Ezra threatened softly, grabbing a fistful of the doctor’s coat, “you know what will happen?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod and Ezra let him go. Waiting a moment he finally turned back to her. To his lover, his starshine…

His everything.

“What is happening?”

“A Name Day miracle, for all intents and purposes.” She seemed confused and he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “I might have performed a few dastardly deeds to move your case to the front of the line.”

“Oh Ezra, you didn’t-”

“Hush,” he kissed her once more. “I would do it again a thousand times over for you.”

“But what about after, Ezra? What happens to you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I suppose I will need to find myself a new place to live, perhaps outside of where the law might reach. I don’t suppose you would want to come with me?”

For all his bravado he was shocked when she nodded, and even more so when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his. “After you’ve done this for me? I would follow you anywhere, Ezra.”

“Sweet starshine,” he held her to him tightly for a moment before releasing her and stepping away, “you need to go and get your new heart.”

“You’ll be here when I’m done?”

He pulled her hand into his, pressing a kiss to the back. “I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

With a smile he rubbed his lips on the blank spot where her finger once sat before letting her go. “Of course. But I must warn you, mine hasn’t been my own to promise for some time now.”

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in Adira once more. I hope you enjoyed your Ezra Holiday treat. @oonajaeadira

[chaoticnandovibes]

My Apology to the Community:

I want to be transparent on the reason why I haven't been able to update any of my fics for such a long time.

I passed out twice at the beginning of the year. They were both logged as ‘unexplained transient loss of consciousness’. Because I had two they had to investigate me.

Convinced it was just PoTS at first (struggle to regulate heart rate, causing extreme increases when standing). Did some tests, diagnosed with Epilepsy AND PoTS.

They diagnosed the falls as seizures as they couldn't be 100% sure of which it was so they went with the worst of the two, but I wasn't very convinced.

Lost my license for a year. Still waiting for the day I can get behind a wheel again and praying nothing happens to delay that.

I started Lamotrigine (anti-epileptic). First regular med I've taken.

Felt OK to begin with- I'm on a small dosage, thr tablets were chewable and tasted fine. Actually kinda looked forward to having them.

Increased it by 25mg and everything fell apart.

Had a followup appointment with a different doctor, he's convinced the falls were PoTS, not seizures. We continue the Lamotrigine as a preventive (despite no history of seizures in childhood or my family). Made more sense, even though I don't understand how they can measure how effective medication if I've never even had a seizure. But for the career path I'm on, it's better for me to stay on it anyway even if I'm not actively having fits.

Took about a month to get even remotely used to this medication. Then they tried to increase it again and same thing, just declined, onslaught of symptoms.

Went back to previous dosage until things settled. Felt alright enough to write my first Landoscar fic and make some additions to Gardener AU, as a sort of comeback, to see if I could still write okay. I can lol. Thanks again Ruby.

Then tried to increase it again. The goal is 4 tablets a day, I'm on 2. Halfway there.

Managed to get the flu right as this happened and it was the shittiest I've ever felt in my life.

Recovered, and now I'm here, and I am genuinely so fucking sorry that I haven't been able to update any of my fics for so long.

It feels as though when I'm finally on track, when everything's in order and I feel like I'm finally making progress in my life and heading towards better days, something comes along and fucks it all up like it's nothing. It all just makes you wonder if it's even worth flying if you'll fall anyway. I'm trying and I don't know, I just don't fucking know.

But I am sorry, even if sorry isn't enough to cover the months I've been inactive for. I want to write, but I can't, and I can't describe the feeling but it hurts that, right now, it's so difficult to work on my fics like I did before, the fics I love and wrote with so many wonderful people - you all know who you are.

I'm not asking for forgiveness or pity or attention, I'm just asking for understanding. They will be written and chapters will be added again one day, but today will not be that day.

Thank you for reading this, I hope it sheds enough light on everything.

– Love, Mimi ❤️

[avengersfantasies]

Anymore - Chapter 9

Summary: You and Bucky come to an agreement with Steve, and you decide what exactly you are.

What to expect: fluff, angst

Masterlist here

taglist: @kandis-mom  @missvelvetsstuff  @mavrellover91  @natashasilverfox  @vicmc624  @blackhawkfanatic  @haruvalentine4321  @felicitylemon  @vonalyn  @aboobie  @stinkerbelle007  @crist1216  @je-suis-prest-rachel  @opheliabarnes @buckysforeverprincess @bathwater101  @frickin-bats @lovely-geek  @winterslove1917 @skittle479

The three of you sat at the table. You and Bucky sat side by side while Steve sat across from you. It was going to be awkward, but the conversation needed to happen – decisions needed to be made and followed through with.

            “I’m going to be there,” Steve insisted. “I’m our baby’s father.”

            You nodded. “So, you and I will make the major decisions,” you said, and he nodded. “Anyone we’re with…like, Bucky, for example, will be able to make decisions when they’re with me and him.”

Steve grimaced. “Don’t really like the idea of another guy being a father to our baby.”

            “We’re best friends,” Bucky reminded Steve with a scoff. “I wouldn’t do anything to undermine you.”

“What kind of decisions would you make?” Steve questioned his best friend.

Bucky shrugged, and you spoke up. “You and I would make major decisions, Steve,” you promised. “You and me will decide the name, design the nursery, make medical and school decisions until they can on their own.”

Steve nodded and exhaled, sipping his drink. “I want to come to your doctor appointments.”

“That’s fine,” you smiled softly. “I’m not going to try to keep you from being a dad.”

Steve smiled slightly, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“So…as for the uh…two of you,” Steve nervously alluded to.

Bucky grabbed your hand and gently held it beneath the table, and the two of you looked at each other. “We’re...you know.” Your heart rate sped up as Bucky spoke carefully. You shot him a sweet smile, but he never turned to look at you. “Close.”

His words broke your heart. Just when your heart was coming back together, it broke again. Close? That was it? Bucky turned to look at you and flashed you a smile, and you forced one right back at him, not wanting to cause any sort of scene at the diner.  

            When the three of you arrived back at the compound, Bucky tried to hold your hand on the way up to his room. Your attitude had noticeably changed back at the diner, and he was determined to figure out what had happened.

            “Hey, sweetheart, --”

            “Don’t,” you cut him off. “Don’t even start.”

He held his hands up and looked at you confused. “What happened?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Really?” you chuckled incredulously, walking into your bedroom. “Think about it.”

Before he could respond, you shut the door on him, not opening up when he continuously knocked. You walked over to your bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling angrily. Were you overreacting? After all, the two of you hadn’t actually discussed what exactly you were. Boyfriend and girlfriend? Friends sleeping together?

            “I’m sorry.” Bucky called out from the other side of the door. “Can…Can you please just open up? We should talk about this.”

Finally, you swung the door open, your tear-stained face looking back at him.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the sight. The last thing in the world that he wanted was to make you cry.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, his eyes filling with tears. Gently, he held your face in his hands. “Baby girl…I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked him softly.

He looked down and held your hands, kissing them and looking at you with his beautiful eyes. “I should’ve just told him what we were,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have –”

“What are we?” you interrupted him. “Do we even know what we are?”

Bucky shook his head. “We need to talk about it.”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said, leading him over to sit on your bed with you. “So,” you began, “what are we?”

The soldier took your hand in his and placed it on your thigh. “I know I want to be more than friends with you,” he said. “I don’t want a no-strings-attached deal.”

“You want strings,” you concluded.

“I want strings,” he nodded. “I want to hold you in my arms, fall asleep with you at night, make love to you whenever I can, be there for you, and help you raise this baby.” His hand found its way to your belly. “I want you.”

“I want you too,” you smiled. “In every way possible.”

Bucky let out a nervous breath. “So, let me ask you this,” he began, holding both of your hands, “will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckled and nodded. “As long as you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“So, we’re official?” he asked with happiness.

You nodded with happy tears. “Yeah,” you confirmed. “We’re official.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, he pulled you close, planting a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before laying you down on your back and taking his time to undress you.

[nahoney22]

Howdy! I just wanted you to know that your works are amazing and they make me feel so happy :3 if it’s possible I would love an echo oneshot, where the reader is anxious about her doctors appointment..I’m mortified by needles and I just need wholesome echo love to get me through the trauma that I had to endure this week.. no rush and honestly if you don’t feel up to it don’t worry about it I understand life throws you curveballs and topics vary from writer to writer. Thank you for all your awesome stories so far 💕💕 I wuv u 🥰

Just a Little Prick

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 711 words

My darling, I can only apologise for the delay. Enjoy my friend 💜 love u @echos-girlfriend

warnings: none, mainly fluff. Fear of needles. Established relationship and comfort.

After getting a nasty infection on one of the floral planets, you had no choice but to go to the nearest town and look for means of a Medical Facility. Truthfully the infection isn’t bad… yet… but that was the least of your worries.

No, your biggest worry is what they make stick into your arm in the process.

Your fear of needles stemmed from when you were young after your parents took you to get your shots and ever since you never liked them. But, maybe this time will be different.

When Tech located a place nearby, you mentally prepare yourself before leaving the ship. Though you are now glad you weren’t alone. Echo was by your side. The others did offer to come too but you didn’t want them to see you as you squirmed at the sight of a needle.

So as both of you made your way to the Medical unit, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. As did Echo.

Echo and you had been dating for over a year now, and he knew you better than anyone else. He was always there for you, through thick and thin, and you were eternally grateful to have him in your life. As we walked into the waiting room, Echo had pulled you closer to your side and placed a tender kiss to the side of your head.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as his hand started rubbing your back gently. "I'm here for you."

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his comforting words. Yet, the wait in the waiting room seemed to go on forever, and your anxiety only increased as the time passed. “Maker, can they hurry up?” You grunt under your breath, wiping your sweaty palms against your thighs that bounce up and down in anticipation.

Echo chuckles a little, “Patience princess,”

You roll your eyes but a smile does form on your face. You always told him that that nickname was very much the opposite of who you were but it felt rather lovely when he did.

Finally, the medic called your name, and so you reluctantly got up to follow them to the examination room.

Echo followed closely behind you, never letting go of your sweating hand (truly, you were thankful for him). As you enter the room, you feel yourself starting to shake followers by the feeling of your heart rate increasing. As the medic started explaining the procedure it went through one ear and out the other. All you could focus on was the unused needle on the desk that is soon going to come in contact with you.

As the nurse prepared the vaccine, your closed my eyes, trying to distract yourself from the impending doom of the injection. Echo, whom not once did leave your side, could see the fear on your face and knew exactly what to do. He pulled me closer to him like before, wrapping his arms around me protectively.

“Look at me," he whispered, tilting your chin up gently with his scomp. "You're doing great. Just breathe, and it will be over before you know it."

His comforting words and touch were just what you needed to calm your shaking nerves. Your eyes opened and now focused on Echo's kind and handsome face. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and ignored the sound of the medics approaching footsteps to administer the vaccine quickly, and before you knew it, it was over.

You let out a sigh of relief and buried your head in Echo's chest, grateful for his support. He rubbed my back gently, letting you know that he was proud that you faced your fear.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said, smiling down at me.

Shaking your head you smile back feeling a sense of pride for overcoming your fear. "No, it wasn't. Thank you for being here for me."

Echo leaned down and kissed you gently once the medic left the room, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I'll always be here for you," he whispered, his eyes full of love and devotion.

Despite overcoming your fear, you’re still in no rush to get another one. Unless Echo joins you by your side again.

My Ko-Fi (not needed but if you fancy buying me a coffee one day then I’ll be much appreciated 💜 )

Masterlist

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory y @s1st3r @taskfork-archive @by-the-primes @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @rintheemolion @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @photogirl894 @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt

[humunanunga]

top surgery

The morning of the surgery, I woke up a few minutes before my first alarm clock. It was set for 6:00am, like the day before when I had to make sure I was dressed in time for the drive to my pre-op appointment a two-hour drive away. But my ride, my medical power of attorney, my secondhand family, had his alarm clock set for 6:15. So I waited until his went off too so he'd have a chance to brush his teeth before I washed the incision area one more time with the special cleanser. Forgetting I didn't need to wash my hair this time, since I already did the night before, my shower was shorter than planned, and so we still had time to idle before driving the scenic route to the surgery center.

More time to hype up my friends, and more time for them to hype me up.

9:30am finally arrived, and so had we. The door was still locked ten minutes later, so I called the office and the voice on the other end said they'd let the nurse know we were here. My driver and I were let in, I changed into the hospital gown, minutes passed as more doctors trickled in against the weekday morning traffic. They took my heart rate, my blood pressure, a urine sample, and the first doctor tried to install the IV needle into my left hand. She had difficulty chasing my vein, which can happen when patients have to abstain from food and drink before surgery. Needles didn't usually affect me, but hunger and dehydration probably made me more sensitive, because I did get woozy. The anesthesiologist ended up getting it done in a few quick motions on the right hand, taping it securely in place and running me through all the risks of anaesthesia and all the factors that made it more likely I'd wake up nauseous. And the surgeon quizzed me on the prescriptions she'd listed for me the day before, and what to do about the binder (leave it alone). At my request, my dad-in-spirit stepped out for a moment while she drew lines on my skin.

And then I was ready.

And finally, the surgeons were ready.

I was led into a spacious operating room, and I asked if I needed to strip down before getting on. They said I didn't, that they'd take care of that. So I stepped on, they covered my legs in a blanket since the room was chilly. I took note of their caps, one with a pig print on it and another with Carebears. I could hear a loud whirring from a machine somewhere out of my periphery while they finished hooking me up, putting an oxygen mask on me, telling me to take deep breaths.

They warned me earlier that the IV drip may sting, but I didn't feel that. What I did feel was the anaesthesia taking effect, so I said goodnight, I'll seeya later.

…

I remember going under. I remember a vague sense of the passage of time, like when you take a nap on the couch with the TV on but don't remember what you were thinking about whenever you wake up.

It took a lot of insistent pestering to wake me, and at first I thought it was my driver trying to wake me. But then I remembered where I was, and I started to respond. Everything felt heavy and cold, but someone put some kind of heater under my legs and it felt so good to warm up again. I was shivering intensely, but the doctors were patient and helped me into the soft pajamas I brought. Pajamas my roommate gave me.

The nausea never came, and when I had tomato soup for lunch and the potato soup for dinner, I couldn't imagine anything tasting better. I was able to take my first post-op selfie as promised on the way back to the hotel room, where one of my dear friends had sent me flowers. Everyone congragulated me, but once I made it back to the bed with the neck pillow, chest pillow and sleep mask from my roommate and her mother, I was only awake again to eat, drink, take pills or watch day become sunset become night.

And I felt so, so loved.

The the sutures holding my grafts in place and the (admittedly itchy) binding over them were removed this week, and the surgeon was delighted to see how well my nipples were healing this early on. I was still pretty tired from how early I had to wake up for the drive to my post-op appointment, but I was giddy seeing my bare chest in the mirror for the first time.

And, so, here I am now. Still under the care of my roomie, my friends and my family while I wait for mobility in my arms to come back. Able to shower again, as long as I follow instructions. Caring for the incision sites while they heal. Tingling the same way skin does when feeling comes back after escaping the cold. And safe from sweating into a binder through any more summers.

For transparency, it may be worth mentioning that I have a history of ideal health. Compared to my brother, my driver and my friends, I'm lucky that I haven't even had any side-effects to deal with. No post-anaesthesia high or nausea, no pain even when I tested out going off the prescriptions. But there's already enough horror stories out there to fearmonger transness with, or to prepare for all the risks and worst-case scenarios; so how about a happy ending to cleanse the palate with this time.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Black Heart Part 9

Regulus Black AU 

Request: Will you write a Regulus x Reader fic where Regulus is older than the reader? She comes to help the Order and Regulus falls in love with her. The relationship isn’t easy because of the war and Regulus’ denial that he would be a good boyfriend.

Summary: Admitting that he was in love had never been something that Regulus wanted to do. Now that you were in his life, Regulus didn’t know how to react. Should he love you or push you away just like he had everyone else?

Rating: M

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Link to Part 8

_____

Going back downstairs, you entered the kitchen while Regulus went off to find Sirius. You had a feeling that he was going off to figure out what “laying low” truly meant. Did that mean that the two of you weren’t allowed to leave the house? What about your doctor appointments or when both Regulus and yourself were so sick of being stuck in the house that it was necessary to go out? You also made a mental note about how Regulus would get extra moody if he spent too much time in the house. Talking to Kreacher and moving from room to room only relieved so much.

“Hey.”

You were pulled from your thoughts by Nicolas’ voice. Looking up, you forced a smile as you noticed Nicolas standing there.

“Hey, why are you just standing there?

Nicolas rolled his eyes.

“I would rather be in her by myself than in that dining room while your psycho boyfriend and his brother whisper to each other about me.”

Here we go…

You thought before taking a deep breath. Nicolas was picking a pretty crap day to continue his “I hate Regulus Black” crusade.

“Nicolas, if you just ignore them and not…get them going they may just leave you alone. Also, Regulus is my fiancé, not my boyfriend…I thought that you should know.”

Nicolas’ mouth dropped. Had he heard you correctly? Did you really just say… fiancé? Nicolas nearly fainted the moment that he saw the ring on your hand.

The bastard actually did it.

“Please tell me that you didn’t say yes?”

You tilted your head in slight confusion.

“I don’t think that I would be wearing an engagement ring if I said no. Of course, I said yes. I love Regulus and besides our…”

Nicolas held a hand up a little over dramatically than needed.

“I know your babies will be here soon. Just because he got you pregnant doesn’t mean that you have to marry him. Call me old fashioned but what’s wrong with living in sin? Y/n, you are too good for him. I know that you are not going to be working for a while. Is this Regulus’ way of keeping you barefoot and pregnant…keeping you locked in this haunted house?”

You gripped the counter in front of you as Kreacher hobbled in. He glared at Nicolas.

“Mistress Y/n, would you like Kreacher to toss the trash out?”

You patted Kreacher on the head before turning back to Nicolas.

“Not at the moment, Kreacher. Nicolas, who actually says barefoot and pregnant? That sounds absolutely cliche and disgusting. I am stopping working because I have to lay low for a bit. Sirius and Remus probably told you that. Furthermore, it was always the plan for me to back off of work a bit once the babies were born. I want to experience my children’s lives. You just can’t accept that I don’t want you. You need to move on, Nicolas, before Regulus makes a pinata out of you.”

You turned to leave the room but stopped when Nicolas grabbed your arm. Spinning around, you punched him in the stomach. Maybe it was the hormones? Maybe it was the pending feelings of distress…whatever it was finally snapped. All that you knew was you were tired of Nicolas interfering. He wasn’t going to interfere in your upcoming marriage or anything else for that matter. He could continue to work for the order but that didn’t mean that you HAD to deal with him.

The moment that Nicolas hit the floor you turned and walked out of the room. Kreacher watched you go before glaring back at Nicolas.

“Kreacher suggests that you leave my mistress alone. Master Regulus has killed people before and he can do it again. The door is over there…you can crawl out it.”

Kreacher turned and walked from the room to go and let Regulus know exactly what was happening. He was not about to sit back and watch his favorite human lose the one woman that he loved the most in the world.

Nicolas was barely on his feet when Regulus stormed in with Sirius and Remus behind him. Sirius was muttering to Remus about wishing that he had a muggle video camera and Remus calling him “Grandpa Sirius” because the muggle cell phone had one. Regulus meanwhile, was totally ready to take Nicolas off of the planet.

“You made her upset? You fucking tosspot I’m going to kill you!”

Nicolas sighed. He had no idea that you would hit so hard. Nicolas saw you as some gentle, kind, motherly woman…boy was he wrong.

“I’ll apologize! I wasn’t intending on upsetting her…for what its worth…”

Regulus’ angry grey eyes were locked on Nicolas’ face as he thought about every “dark” torturous spell that he knew. It would be so easy to make Nicolas’ life miserable and now Regulus had every excuse to do it. If the other man thought for one moment that Regulus would hang back and let him ruin the relationship that the two of you had…old Nicky boy had another thing coming.

“Yeah, you’ll apologize right after I give you a carpet burn on your face and toss you down the stairs headfirst!”

Nicolas blinked.

“Are you going to hit me too? I said I would apologize”

Regulus and Sirius both quickly had the same look of confusion on their faces. Who exactly got to Nicolas first? Who beat them to the “grand prize?”

“Wait, who hit you?”

Regulus asked, clearly thrown off of his guard. Nicolas motioned to his stomach, which was still aching.

“Y/n! Look I will apologize I really don’t want to tangle with you. I don’t think I can really compete with this. What more do you people want from me?”

Sirius and Remus both instantly snorted with laughter. Regulus raised an eyebrow before looking extremely proud.

“Y/n hit you?”

Sirius questioned. He HAD to make damn sure that he heard all of this correctly. Nicolas nodded, hanging his head.

“Yeah…in my stomach. Again, what do you people want from me?”

Regulus turned to walk out of the room. At the moment, he had to find you.

“I’ll get back to you”

Regulus replied before walking out of the room and to the dining room where you stood looking out the window.

You looked up when Regulus stepped in with a smirk on his face.

“I heard that you laid down the law. It's truly regretful that I missed it because I would have loved to have had a ringside seat to that.”

A small smile played on your lips.

“He had what was coming to him. I think that it's safe to say that he won’t be trying to gain my love anytime soon.”

Regulus came over to join you at the window.

“I have to know, was it glorious to slug that creep? Did he puke?”

You rolled your eyes and moved to wrap your arms around Regulus’ shoulders. Enjoying the quiet “close” time was just what you needed in order to calm down.

“No, but I could tell that he wanted to. Did you hit him?”

Regulus chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“I was too stunned when he said that you hit him. That is one problem down.”

Indeed it was one problem down. However, as the following few months passed…you slightly wished that Nicolas was all that the two of you had to worry about. After “lying low” for a while, you felt as if you were getting cabin fever with being stuck in the house most of the time.

Sure, Regulus would take you out on dates from time to time but both of you felt “on guard” the whole time. Regulus would be constantly looking around the room for any potential threat. Always being on the lookout for death eaters or any other “undesirable” that would want either of you dead killed the mood

Regulus was still going to work to keep up appearances while you stayed at home. Never in a million years (and sometimes on a daily basis) did you expect to be a housewife yet here you were. You actually didn’t mind it was much as you thought that you would. It would probably have been more enjoyable if some madman that was causing havoc on the wizarding world wasn’t aware of your fiancé's betrayal.

Does Voldemort really care about me? I mean, the man has a lot more important things to worry about than a pregnant fiancé of one of his former death eaters.

This had been one of your thoughts over the whole Regulus vs Voldemort topic. Another part of you knew that Voldemort would seek any chance to “deal with” someone that had wronged him. Killing the twins and yourself, would be one hell of a way for Voldemort to get back at Regulus.

…and that is why I am stuck in the house.

You thought before going downstairs where Regulus sat on the couch with a book on his lap.

“Reggie?”

Regulus looked up with a small smile. He knew that the past few months had started to wear on you. You never complained or fussed but Regulus could see it in your eyes. Between being stuck in the house and being nearly “ready to pop” you were miserable.

“Yes, love?”

You sat down and struggled to get comfortable. For the last month, it felt as if nothing that you did eased the pain in your back or the “little feet” cramming in your ribs.

“I was thinking that I liked the nursery the way it was.”

The smile on Regulus’ face faded. He had rearranged the nursery at least four times this past week. Every day when he came home, you were wanting to move all of the furniture around.

“Love, this is the fourth time this week. I was thinking does it really matter? I mean, aren’t the babies going to be in the room with us for a while…which I also have questions about…how are we supposed to have sex with them lying in the cots beside us? Won’t that be…weird?”

You took a breath.

“I won’t be able to have sex for at 6 weeks afterward by that time I’m hoping to have them in their nursery…which is why I want the furniture moved.”

Regulus stared at you only blinking.

“Y/n…you’ll want me to switch it all back tomorrow. That’s a lot of stuff.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine!”

Regulus sighed before standing up. He was quietly muttering to himself that there was just a little bit longer and he would have his normal fiancé back. Regulus was trying his best to deal with your mood swings and random crying fits but it was difficult…especially for someone who was crap at dealing with emotions anyway.

“Okay, how do you want it?”

He replied, softly. The last thing that Regulus wanted to do was make you cry again. After he made you cry over cozy wool socks and pancakes, he mentally swore to never do that again. Even if he had to do the most insane things to make you happy (for example, going to find you chocolate pudding with crushed-up cookies at 3 am) he would suffer through it.

You perked up, knowing that you were getting your way. Regulus held his hand out to help you stand up.

“Well, let me show you.”

You replied, following Regulus up the stairs. You made a mental note to thank Regulus for putting up with your crazy moods. Regulus never complained or made a fuss (even if his face told another story) and you had to give him credit for that.

“Okay, so I was thinking of the cribs over there and the other stuff on that side.”

Regulus blinked a few times fighting the urge to say “That’s literally how we had it last night.”

“If that’s what you want, darling.”

Regulus moved to start moving some of the stuff but stopped when you made a small squeak. He didn’t look up at first as you started looking around.

“Regulus?”

“Mhm? Did you change your mind already?”

Regulus questioned, hoping that you decided that the current room layout was the best.

“No, my water just broke.”

Regulus stood instantly up and looked at you with wide eyes before looking at the puddle around your feet. The panic instantly went through him as he mentally started doing math. It was still a few weeks early. He never expected the babies coming that day! Another day but not that day!

“Oh…fuck.”

Regulus murmured as you put a hand on your stomach wincing.

“Are you in pain?”

He asked quickly, trying to remember what exactly was supposed to happen. The two of you had talked this out several times but suddenly Regulus was clueless and not sure what to do.

“I have been having back pain all day but that isn’t anything weird…maybe it was contractions.”

You commented before moving to sit down. Regulus moved to the door and turned around to stare at you with wide eyes.

“Why are you sitting down? We need to go to the hospital.”

You took a few more deep breaths.

“I don’t think that I’m going to do this, Regulus.”

Regulus looked totally confused.

“Uh, I don’t think that it works that way…”

You held a hand up.

“This world is bad! There is too much bad to bring babies into. What the hell were we thinking?”

Regulus was nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He was supposed to be the certified basket case in this. You were the doctor, the logical one…the calm one…he was just some guy that got totally thrown into something that he never planned.

“We were thinking that vodka made our clothes fall off. “

You gave him a glare.

“You aren’t funny!”

Regulus moved to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his.

“Love, everything is going to be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but all of this mess will get straightened out somehow. We probably could have planned kids at a better time but maybe having them not makes this the right time. Things happen when they are supposed to. You may not have chosen me if it happened another time.”

Your eyes softened and the panic vanished. Reaching out, you stroked your hand over Regulus’ cheek.

“I would always choose you. It looks like our babies will be at our wedding after all.”

Regulus chuckled.

“They’re already dramatic, like their uncle.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread to your face as nodded as Regulus stood up.

“Now can we please get you to the hospital before we have the kids here…with no help?"

____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @justfinishthis @georgeweasleydumbhoe @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @criminalyetminimal @livshifts @stelleduarte @ell0ra-br3kk3r @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @rogue-nyx88 @panpride @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @f4iryluvy @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @quinis @yousmellllikecaca @mentally-unstable-hoe @haroldpotterson @buttercup-beeee @goldensunshineshit @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @padf00ts-l0ver @rubyroscoe1 @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @marichromatic @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @dumybitch @lostarc24 @un-lovesherself @melaninnbarbie @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @hankypranky @moldy-old-boot @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @untoldshortsofthefandoms @li0nh34rt @tas898 @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[themoonsbride]

hi our gorgeous girl 😻 i have an idea for another fluff for peter (i just love him with my heart) where he's one of the doctors at the lab and y/n is one of the numbers, they are a couple, and when he's assigned to do her regular check-up he sees that she's sad and he's worried she's not feeling well, but she finally tells him that she's sad because she feels like she's not good and pretty enough for him:( and he kisses her all over her face to make her smile and just being the cutest boyfriend ever ❤️‍🩹 ahh i need cute lovely peter:( also i love your works so much, thank u for sharing them with us lovely girl, mwah 💌

I literally love you so much GORGEOUS GIRL??? WHOSE GORGEOUS?? 🤭🤭 also I love this idea so much omg!! thank u so much for requesting me! I really appreciate it deary ! <3

You Know I Love You .

pairing; Nurse!Peter Ballard x Fem!reader

summary; in the request above! Reader is getting her regular check-up from her secret boyfriend, who suspects somethings wrong, only to find out she's feeling insecure about herself :(

warnings; use of medical tools, descriptions of insecurities, feeling overwhelmed :(

a/n; I hope I can start getting more requests ! I love to write for requests sm, so hopefully my inbox will start to explode soon hehajshs

--×♥︎×--

It was check-up day. You never liked check-ups before the lab the doctors made you nervous and their medical tools looked foreign

The youngest were getting their medical exams first.

And you were the oldest there so you'd be going last, which wasn't very reliving at all. Infact your anxiety only went higher in rate at the fact that with each subject that returned made your appointment approach closer and closer

Before you knew it, your time-eating coloring was inturupted, and you were being escorted to the infirmary

'what if I mess up the exam what if I don't do good enough? what if I'm already not good enough? it would make sense.. I'm not that pretty for a girl with her hair just below her ears.. oh god, I'm not good or pretty enough, why is Peter even with me in the first place?'

"010?" Peter's voice rang through your ears and echoed against your eardrums

You blinked up at him as your boyfriend smiled at you, taking you back to his station

You and Peter had been dating for about 3 months now and though you usually didn't see him too often, you'd do small things purposefully just to go to the infirmary to see him.

He'd often visit you after his shifts and sometimes you'd spend the night together talking, and you'd end up asleep in his arms while he pampered you with kisses. He made you feel happiness you never thought you'd expirence in a place like this.

You sat down on the hospital bed as he filled out some quick files at his desk. You loved the wheels on his chair, sometimes he'd even let you sit on it and wheel yourself around his station.

You looked down at your fingernails while you waited, you wished you could paint them, once you let Eleven put purple marker on them, it looked good for an 8 year old, Peter thought it was cute.

You tried to distract yourself but your mind seemed not so fond of your actions of trying to run away from yourself.

'Why is he even dating me? he could find someone better who actually works in the same category as him.'

You didn't even realize Peter was sitting infront of you now, you jumped a little as you looked into his already staring eyes.

"what's up with you today baby?" He asked you quietly as he used his Opthalmoscope to check your eyes.

"nothing.." you murmured out, he lowered his medical tool and gave you a concerned look, you usually never hid anything from him. mostly because you didn't need too, all your secrets were safe with Peter, and you knew that.

"Am I pretty enough for you?" You blurted out, it was like your words didn't care what your mind thought about you speaking the harsh statements that you were stabbing yourself with.

"What? Y/n, what are you talking about, your more than enough for me dear." a small frown stretched on his lips, you hated to see him upset, especially if you're the cause of it.

"how do I know you aren't just saying that Peter?" your voice felt hoarse like you were about to cry, and you weren't sure if you were from how overwhelming everything was, the check-up, your racing mind, his comfort, his comfort was appreciated deeply, but your nerves weren't sure if they could handle all of this at once.

"Hey." Peter's voice was soft but it was also firm, it pulled your attention away from everything at once and back onto him.

"Breath, deep breathes alright?" His thumbs started rubbing against the backs of your knuckles, you anxiously nodded your head and practiced your breathing methods.

after a few moments of calming down your nerves and anxiety that seemed as if they wouldn't land back down from space from how sky rocketed they were.

"You should know you're pretty and good enough, your perfect y/n." His voice lingered in your ears and the deepness of his vocal cords whispers against your arms.

"You," He started to place gentle kisses on your face between each word he said. "Are. Perfect."

You giggled at his affections, the sounds of your tiny laughs escaping from your lips made him smile at you like he was 3 years old, staring at a huge lollipop he'd seen inside of a candy shop.

"How about I let you sit in the wheeled chair while I do your exam yeah?" He smiled with his teeth, they were shiny and seemed like porcine to you.

You smiled big also flashing your teeth back, his cheeks seemed to have reddened at the sight of your happiness as he stood, and before you knew it you were giggling and rolling yourself around his station and spinning in circles.

[the-fiction-witch]

Arrangement P4

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet

I headed out of the ward to the front desk and made notes on what medications and procedures were planned for my patients, scribbling away for a while. I noticed the front doors open to the sweetest of sights, Y/n headed into the hospital wearing a sweet black and white plaid gown, her little black lace boots and a pair of white gloves, her long Y/c/H hair braided and pinned with a hairpin, a black lace parasol in hand. I tried not to blush but my smile slipped through as I saw her come in and look around until she spotted me a smile cracking across her lips,

"Hello my dear," I smiled brushing my hands off and going over,

"Hello Doctor," she smiled offering her hand, 

I happily took her hand and gave it a sweet kiss, "You have blessed our hospital with your visit sweet lady,"

"Aww you're far too kind to me Jack," She giggled,

"Well, how could I not be kind to my future bride," I smiled, "Now would you like a tour of the hospital? And then you could keep me company down in the morgue this afternoon while I do some surgical work?" 

"That sounds lovely," she smiled excitedly and took my arm, 

So I held her hand and gave her a tour of the hospital showing her around the place and giving her examples of the work I do all of which my little macabre firecracker girl utterly adored. Before finally we headed down to the morgue, I stood and got my tools to get working on the body she smiled and cuddled with my arm as I worked I happily held her and gave her head some kisses. 

After a while, I saw her sweetly watching so I offered her my blade,

"ohh?" She asked a little shocked, "I've never-"

"Well you can't hurt him anymore," I told her, 

"I really can?" 

"Of course, I'll be right here to help you."

She giggled and happily took the blade so I wrapped my arms around her and talked her through what she needed to do. She was so happy, and excited and she worked very well.

"Perfect, you did flawlessly my dear," he smiled, "maybe once we're married I could have to here as my little nurse for surgery,"

"You would?"

"I would happily have you as my nurse, working beside me, handing me my tools, helping me with surgery," I told her, "Would you like that?"

"Very much," 

"Well, you'd be more than welcome," 

"You're far too sweet to me Jack," she cooed, 

"Why wouldn't I be sweet to the girl I'm going to marry?" 

"I suppose, but still," she giggled, "I must be going soon,"

"Oh? why?" 

"I have a prior engagement," She says sorting herself out, 

"I thought I was your engagement?" I joked, following behind her,

"Not like that," she laughed, "No I have an appointment with the tailor,"

"oh? enlighten me?"

"For my wedding dress of course,"

"Ohh! Right! yes... sorry." I blushed a little to think of her in a wedding dress, 

"We only have a few more days and then we'll be married," 

"I know, honestly? I can't wait."

"Me either, Would I be able to visit you tomorrow perhaps after work?"

"I'd like that, but Father has a business meeting tomorrow night," 

"Ohh I see, the day after then?" 

"I'm sorry my mother is taking me out for the day,"

"Ohh that's sweet, of course, I wouldn't want to disturb your time with your mother, Perhaps the day after then?"

"Well... that is the night before our wedding,"

"Ahh... good point," I nodded, "We uhhh we probably shouldn't see one another then. Bad luck and all."

"Umm, I am sorry Jack-"

"It's alright, it's only three days. I'm sure my heart will merely grow fonder for the absence," 

"I'm sure of it," She smiled, "I'm sure you will find things to do in the wait for our wedding,"

"Yes of course," I nodded, "Well I look forward to when I will next see you. On our wedding,"

"As will I," she smiled, "Have a good evening Jack,"

"You too Y/n," I smiled, "Do you think today... as I will not see you until our wedding, do you think I could kiss your cheek?"

She blushed, "I suppose that's agreeable,"

I nodded and held her hand giving her cheek a gentle kiss, "I can't wait to kiss you at our wedding,"

"Me either, have a nice day Jack," she cooed kissing my cheek too before she headed out giving me a little wave as she went, I waved back and tried to hide my blush but as soon as she was gone I leant against the table and sighed with a dorky stupidly wide smile, 

[aster-is-confused]

google isn't being very helpful so hopefully disability tumblr can give some advice. what are the symptom differences in POTS vs. iron deficiency anemia vs. low blood sugar vs. low blood pressure vs. severe dehydration? i know that's a lot, but if you could just speak to the ones you know more about, i would appreciate it a lot. i'm trying to look into what could be causing my severe lightheadedness/presyncope when standing up, which has been going on for several years. details about my situation and symptoms below the cut

for about 2 and a half years now, i've been dealing with lightheadedness, loss of balance, seeing spots/vision blackout, and several times falling over and very nearly fainting. all of this happens almost exclusively when i stand up from sitting. it's not always super bad, sometimes it's just a bit of lightheadedness or tittinus and then i'm fine. it worsens significantly when i haven't eaten, drank, and/or slept much recently. when it started i figured it was my eating disorder causing low blood sugar (probably true), major lack of sleep contributing to the dizziness (also probably true), and severe dehydration too because at some point I started trying to exacerbate the symptoms as a cry for help (it was a rough year). but since then i've recovered and still have a lot of the same symptoms.

last year i asked my doctor and she just said i'm dehydrated, which i know is true, but it feels like more than just dehydration going on. today i finally decided to look into it further after all morning and afternoon my limbs were tingly while sitting down, my legs were very weak going down stairs, i felt kind of "static-y" all over for a few minutes after standing up (similar to the tingling in my limbs but everywhere), and i would get tittinus (ringing and muffled hearing) for like 60 seconds after standing up. things that probably made today worse than normal are that my eating, drinking, and sleeping habits have been not great recently because of exam season, and i did spend the vast majority of the day sitting (AP exam in the morning, homework in the afternoon).

i haven't yet tried the POTS 10 minute stand test, but i plan to tonight, but i know in the past i've had an oddly high heart rate and heavy breathing during very mild activity like getting up and walking across the house (i've always attributed the breathing to my asthma, but honestly it doesn't make much sense for something as simple as walking), as well as mild tremors and muscle weakness on bad days, and pretty regular brain fog and sometimes fatigue (i've usually just attributed both of those to adhd and depression). i've never had blood pressure issues that i know of, so i think plain old hypotension isn't likely. low blood sugar makes sense when i haven't eaten much, but i still have the symptoms (to a lesser extent) when I'm eating well. iron deficiency doesn't seem unlikely, although i had some bloodwork done for other reasons about 1.5 years ago (well after symptoms started) and i wasn't told that anything was abnormal. i've been pretty chronically dehydrated my whole life (urine charts put me at medium-severe dehydration depending on the day), but honestly i don't want to believe that it's just that. i have a doctor's appointment (yearly checkup) in about a week, and i'd like to be able to narrow it down somewhat and talk to my parents about it more before then so i can discuss it at the appointment.

any advice would be appreciated, and i'll probably edit the post once i've done the 10 minute stand test

UPDATE: 10 minute stand test results were definitely not normal, my resting rate after laying down still for a while was 75, then it hovered at 130-140 for the whole 10 minute standing period. evidence is currently leaning strongly towards POTS so i'll make sure to discuss it with my parents and doctor