#how to disappear completely and never be found

[jaggedamethyst]

easy (bucky barnes x gn!reader)

content: life with bucky is amazing…but it’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when your relationship is a secret.

secret relationship, miscommunication/misunderstanding, angst, self doubt, alpine!!!!! not proofread

notes: fawk tik tok but welcome everyone who is bored and here getting their bucky content now. real as fuck. (no sharon carter slander allowed around me ever btw.)

there will be a part two (possibly more but idk)

main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“I never really understood the appeal of a secret relationship until now,” You glanced over to Bucky, “It’s kinda invigorating.”

He smirked, his lazy smile matching his relaxed figure—sprawled on the bed next to you. “Invigorating, huh?”

He had rushed over the night before, getting back to the compound and waiting for a good time to slyly step out. It became habit; he would say that he was coming back from a run in the mornings. If he ever was caught in the evening, he’d simply went on one of many errand trips.

The truth was, that people didn’t really notice him. Bucky Barnes could sneak out and back in relatively unchecked save for Steve. Even then, Bucky’s elusive nature made it easy for people to stop asking after a while. He knew the underlying issue was that they would never truly separate who he was with who he is now. It was okay, though, because he had you. Thats all that mattered.

Peoples’ concern for Bucky’s wellbeing and whereabouts dwindled—figuring he could handle himself. He loved that when everyone else could simply shut their minds off to the thought of a rehabilitated solider—you accepted him with warmth. That affection would never truly be lost on him.

You turned over in your bed, observing Bucky’s features. You couldn’t help the way your entire face upturned—truly invigorated by the sight.

He noticed your stare in his peripheral, “Like what you see?”

“Oh, please.” A pillow found its way in your grip, playfully smacking Bucky in his face. You quickly moved to leap off of the bed, but the attempt was futile, of course. The man had been able to lean over and grab you before you could even process the movement—pushing you firmly into the mattress. Without missing a beat, he leaned in to kiss you—smiling into it. His metal hand found a grip on your neck, just under your chin, and pulled you up into him. The pressure was delicate—the inherent weight of him using this arm not lost on either of you. The coolness spurred you on. Your arms snaked around his back and tightened at the feeling of his skin on yours; you’d never truly gotten used to the feeling.

It was an honor, truly, to be loved by James Barnes. It was even more so to love him. When you were able to bask in the morning sun like this, to kiss him like he could disappear, you never took it for granted.

The kiss quickly became overwhelming. Thoughts of the man filled your mind—mostly of how lucky you felt. Even more common at times like these was to feel as if you weren’t deserving…despite him constantly saying otherwise. He made sure to tell you daily, if not more often, that being a secret was to keep you safe. He couldn’t chance losing you, he’d say. He couldn’t live without you.

But something else clawed at your skull, telling you that maybe you just weren’t enough—that you didn’t look the way you should.

You pulled away, looking between his eyes. He was completely in a daze—lips reddened and swollen so quickly. A blush feathered its way over his cheeks, then, watching you look at him so intensely.

He swallowed, “What?” He pecked your lips quickly. “Am I just that good at kissing that you’re mesmerized by my talents?”

An involuntary huff escaped you and you quickly forgot that fleeting thought of inadequacy. You mirrored his smile before playfully pushing him off of you, finally moving off of the bed and toward the kitchen.

Bucky had a charismatic way about him that could be mistaken for immature. You knew better, though. In his new life he adopted optimism—a way to combat the thoughts he had. Feelings of his still being a horrible man. That he would never escape being an assassin. So when he looked at you and saw a growing somber look on your face, he didn’t expect the worst. He should’ve.

After some time passed, Bucky emerged from your bedroom. You gave him a quick look over the brim of your cup, sipping on your tea. You made a show of observing how he’d freshened up and changed into his signature dark clothing. The sight of Alpine snuggling up to his boot had you cheesing then.

He stalked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Gonna go stop by my place and get a few things…figured she would like the trip.” He leaned down to scoop up his cat. “Should probably also grab more of her food.” He motioned toward the now empty tupperware he had made into a makeshift transport for when the both of them would stay at your place.

“No worries. I should be tidying up around here anyways.” You reached up to hug him, leaving space for Alpine between you.

“I’ll be seeing ya, doll.”

You pushed into his shoulder at his silly remark, but decided to play along. “Be seeing ya, too, Sarge.”

With that he turned to leave—the white cat perched comfortably on his shoulder now.

The sound of the door closing immediately made you turn to survey your apartment. It wasn’t too bad—but could easily take a few hours to freshen up if you made a day of it. With a nod, you began tidying and cleaning to pass the time—occasionally checking your phone for a text or call from Bucky.

It was only way into the night that you began to get anxious. You knew about his job; at one moment there could be nothing and the next a universal threat they had to combat. You tried not to jump to worry, but it was so unlike him. There’d been times like this, where he would disappear. You would take the time, giving him space he probably needed—only to find him holed up in his apartment in the worst condition he’d ever been in. Images of him contracted in on himself and shoved into a dark corner played in your mind. You had to go check, to be sure.

Throwing on a matching sweat set, you shoved your phone and keys into your pocket, quickly making the trek to his place. It wasn’t far, but it wasn’t exactly close. For some reason you made the decision to walk there—the franticness and burn in your legs making the distance seem even larger.

Your chest burned, heaving as you turned the corner. The building came into view, finally. You quickly swiped the extra card he’d given you to enter the building. Every step felt like a march toward complete devastation. Your hands opened and shut, grasping at your hoodie. The elevator ride was torturous. You weren’t sure how you’d find him—the thought alone was driving you up a wall.

As you approached his door, your pace slowed. You dug into your pocket again, reaching for his key on your keychain. Just above the gasps of your breath you heard shuffling in his place—causing you to still. You were sure the expression on your face was one of confusion, wondering why he’d not let you know he got here at least. Just as you went to call his name, a voice spoke, muffled by the closed door. Without a thought, you leaned in at the sound—growing more cautious and remembering just how much Bucky told you to stay aware of your surroundings. With a tilt, you steadied your breathing. None of the words were coming clear to you. It was certain, though, that there was a woman in his place.

You took a long and drawn inhale before swiftly pushing in and turning the key to Bucky’s apartment.

The woman paused the call she’d been on, now looking at you. “I’ll call you back.” She pushed the phone into her pocket, looking at you expectantly. “Hi.”

“Hi?” You gave her a quizzical look, “Who are you?” You hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly.

The woman across from you didn’t move, clearly aware of the fact that you didn’t let the door close. Either you were really dumb…or someone taught you that. She stepped toward you, then, a hand outstretched. “I’m Sharon.” She observed your lack of motion except for a brow that arched at the introduction. “You must know Barnes, he sent me here to check on Alpine…can’t seem to find him.”

“Her.”

“Sorry?”

“Her…Alpine’s…a her.”

Sharon lowered her hand. “Didn’t know, sorry.”

Your grip on the door’s knob loosened a bit at the mention of Bucky and Alpine. Finally, you let the door swing closed behind you—stepping into his living room but keeping a distance.

You cleared your throat, “So where is he? That he couldn’t check on Alpine himself, I mean…”

“I um…” She paused, teetering on her feet. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to say-“

“I’m his friend,” you interrupted. You groaned internally at the attempt to make your presence at his place seem legitimate. “We’ve been friends for a while. Haven’t heard from him and wanted to see if he was okay.”

“So you just walked in?”

“Isn’t that what you did?”

The woman smiled, chuckling to herself. “Got a point there.” Silence filled the room again before she spoke again, “So…you’re a friend…with a key?”

“I watch Alpine when he’s out of town…he figured I should have one just in case he’s ever gone longer than expected.”

You surveyed the woman, looking for any questioning of your rehearsed reply. It was somewhat true…not entirely, though.

You chose to repeat your question, concern still sitting within you. “Where’s Bucky?”

The woman reached in her pocket, causing you to step away from her. She raised her arm—motioning for you to wait. Reflected back at you was her ID and badge. She worked with him.

“You should come with me.”

Just then, Alpine strolled around the corner, approaching you in recognition. You scooped her up the same as Bucky had, watching Sharon move toward the door. You inched back, allowing her the space to exit and for you to follow.

The car ride was uncomfortably silent. No words were exchanged between you and the only sound that resonated between the both of you being Alpines sweet purrs into your lap. Eventually you approached the compound. Bucky had never bought you here—thinking better of it. You followed Sharons swift motions, keeping a somewhat close distance on her trail. Looking around as you walked, you were overwhelmed. There were so many people, all of which Bucky didn’t want to know about you. There were so many weapons, so casually strewn about and waved around.

A shake of your head was inadvertent. You pulled Alpine in closer to you, sniffing in the lingering scent of Bucky on her.

The two of you rounded a corner, a few sectioned off rooms coming into view. Sharon quickly stepped into one, ushering you in.

She leaned down and clicked on a keyboard, speaking while looking at the computer screen. “Barnes was called up.” She clicked away, “We needed some undercover done and they had to be able to speak Russian…possibly other languages.” She side eyed you, making sure you were looking. “We have feeds on them at all times.”

She stood then, backing up to stand in line with you. You surveyed the screen, confused by the atmosphere, “Where is this?”

“Some arts gala…few hours away. We got word of illegal dealings happening a few weeks out so they’re doing recon.”

You nodded, watching the zoomed out view of the ballroom. A quick scan came up empty—no signs of Bucky at all. You saw Sharon in your side view, watching the various emotions littering your face.

She crossed her arms, “Barnes isn’t your friend.”

“No.” It wasn’t a question. You figured this would happen, Bucky said as much, that anyone he worked with would see right through you. You kicked yourself for how obvious you’d been, even when trying to be subtle.

“There they are.”

You looked over to her suddenly, “They?”

She moved to zoom in on the screen. “Yup, Barnes and Romanoff.” Sharon resumed her stance next to you. “See? He’s alright…figured this would ease your mind. I know how he can get.”

There was nothing out of the ordinary and you reasoned that you were just being overly cautious. Admittedly, you jumped to so many conclusions in such a small time.

The sound of Sharon’s phone going off filled the room. “I have to take this, but feel free to stay. I can take you back in a sec, okay?”

“Thank you, Sharon.”

She nodded before stepping out to take the call.

You sat down, allowing Alpine to observe the screen as well. “He’s doing just fine. That’s good, right?”

You looked down at Alpine for a second, amused by your own love for the cat—seeing as you weren’t fond of them as a whole. Generally, you were more of a dog person, but you compromised because Bucky loved her. You smiled at the thought of them, your own little family.

The absentminded circling on Alpine’s back stopped abruptly as you looked up at the screen again. You whispered to yourself, “What the fuck…”

In what seemed to be an average recon mission, seemed to linger a hint of something you didn’t quite like. The distance between Bucky and the woman was closing. His grip found her back, a secure hand there while the other held hers firmly. They were talking. You turned to look for Sharon, hoping there were mics on them. The smiles exchanged back and forth had your chest in pain—the same lazy smile he’d shown you just hours ago. Your body started to shake, pulsing at a frequency that left you feeling unstable. A hand secured you in the chair; you urged yourself to keep watching, even if to your own detriment.

He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. They moved apart, then, searching in one another’s gaze. In a split second, the pair’s lips met one another’s. You felt your eyes blink away a sting that approached you quickly. An immediate pain welled up in you. You couldn’t believe it. Clenching down on your teeth, you stood up quickly, moving closer to the monitor. Your finger trailed his face, looking for any sign that this was just an act—an elaborate ruse for the task at hand. Yet, there was nothing.

You couldn’t help but let the feelings of inadequacy cloud your judgement. You couldn’t help but doubt everything he’d ever said. You couldn’t help but cower away from yourself—scared of your own reflection now. It had to be true…you just simply weren’t enough. Someone else was better.

Feeling Alpine in your hands, you pressed a firm hug and kiss into her fur. You rubbed her reassuringly before setting her down in the chair. “I’ll see you later…okay?”

The cat seemed to look at you longingly—but you couldn’t let that stop your path. You had to get out of here. Swinging the door open, you stepped out into the hall and looked around for Sharon. She seemed to have disappear—of course. You took a few steps, unsure of which direction to go. To anyone watching, you seemed to stutter step. You’d move in one direction and question the next. Suddenly, a man came into view, towering over you.

He leaned down to meet your eyeline, “Hey.” He waved a hand in an attempt to break you from your trance. “You okay? You seem lost.”

“I just need to get out of here.” You move to step around him, “Excuse me.”

Your quick footsteps carried you toward the outside—the familiar burn of your legs reminding you of the feeling just an hour ago. How concerned you’d been, you thought, only for him to be hours away having the time of his life…without you.

Within a few minutes, you were able to find a ride and head home. Opening your apartment door hit you in a way you didn’t expect. You had cleaned everything, yes, but you had accidentally removed all traces of Bucky in your attempt to straighten up. The lack of him felt too real—hitting your chest with a force you couldn’t take.

In all your time together you hadn’t felt more connected to Bucky than right now. You empathized with him—sinking to the floor came easy. Letting yourself waste away in an effort to not acknowledge the pain was… easy. Sitting in the dark, ignoring calls, letting your mind run rampant.

I can do this, you thought. Reveling in the feeling of sadness was much easier than facing Bucky. So you simply…wouldn’t.

[last-dropsevi]

Okay, okay, okay, hear me out.. Sevika but gentle sex. Like r just needs something soft, not necessarily vanilla but I rlly want to see Sevika trying to be gentle cause reader asked her in that tone, with those eyes, she can never resist.

Gentle night// ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡Sevika

Sevika wasn’t used to losing control, but the way you looked at her—eyes wide and soft, voice trembling with quiet need—it had her chest tightening, her resolve slipping through her fingers like sand. She could handle the chaos of Zaun, the grind of survival, the weight of expectation. But you? You unraveled her with nothing but a touch.

“vika,” you whispered, your hand brushing against hers. Even the lightest contact from you felt electric. “Please, I need something softer tonight.”

A low, raw whimper escaped her before she could stop it. Her breath hitched, her jaw tensing as though she could will herself back into control, but it was no use. That sound—so uncharacteristic of her—hung heavy in the air between you, and she swore she saw your lips twitch in a faint, knowing smile.

“Soft,” she echoed, her voice gravelly, almost uncertain. Her hand slid to your waist, strong and grounding, but with a deliberate restraint that wasn’t easy for her. “I can do that. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you go.”

You nodded, your gaze never leaving hers, and Sevika swore she felt her heart stutter in her chest. There was so much trust in your eyes—trust she didn’t feel like she deserved, but she wasn’t about to let you down. Not when you needed her like this.

Her lips found yours with a surprising gentleness, but there was still an edge of hunger there, like she couldn’t quite help herself. She kissed you like you were something precious, her rough hands pulling you closer as though afraid you might disappear.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she muttered against your lips, her voice low and heavy with emotion. She kissed her way down your neck, her teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver through you. Her grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of her strength—of how much she was holding back for you.

Her hands moved with purpose, one warm and calloused, the other cool and unyielding, and both possessive in their own way. She tugged you closer, until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies, and her lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You’re mine,” she murmured, her tone firm, almost a growl. “All of you, mine. Don’t forget that.”

Your breath hitched, and Sevika chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. She pulled back just enough to shed her shirt, the broad expanse of her chest catching the dim light as she reached for the strap-on waiting at the edge of the bed.

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she secured it in place, her gaze never leaving yours. There was something mesmerizing about the way she carried herself—strong, sure, and completely devoted to you in this moment.

“You ready for me?” she asked, her voice softer now, but no less commanding.

“Yes,” you breathed, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you.

Sevika settled between your legs, her hands gripping your hips with a firm but steady hold. She leaned down to kiss you again, slower this time, pouring everything she couldn’t put into words into that kiss. When she finally pressed into you, her movements were careful, measured, her forehead resting against yours as she let out a low groan.

“Fuck,” she muttered, her voice cracking slightly as her grip on your waist tightened. “You feel so good, baby. So perfect.”

She moved with a rhythm that was deliberate but unrelenting, her hips rolling with a precision that sent waves of pleasure through you. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred her on, her possessive side flaring as she held you close, her body shielding you as though she could protect you from the rest of the world.

“You’re mine,” she growled again, her voice rough but full of reverence. “Every part of you. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her lips found your neck again, leaving marks she knew would linger—a visible claim, one she wanted you to wear proudly. She pressed deeper, her pace quickening slightly, but she never lost that careful edge. She wanted you to feel everything, but she also wanted to take her time, to savor you, to make sure you knew just how much you meant to her.

“Too much?” she murmured, her voice softer now, her lips brushing against your ear.

“No,” you gasped, your hands gripping her shoulders for stability. “Don’t stop.”

She let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a faint smile against your skin. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Sevika’s hands guided your body, her movements deliberate as she brought you closer and closer to the edge. When you finally came undone beneath her, crying out her name, she didn’t let you go. She held you tightly, her arms wrapping around you as though she could shield you from the world.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice softer now, full of pride and affection. “You’re so good for me.”

She stayed there, her body covering yours protectively, her hands tracing gentle patterns along your skin as you caught your breath. And in that moment, as she held you close, Sevika realized that for you, she could be anything—strong, gentle, possessive, soft. Whatever you needed, she would give, because you were hers, and she was yours.

Masterlist

A/N: sorry if this isn’t long enough. I’m dealing with regents rn so my bad if this came out bad.

[kyrsse]

He's my Husband

Chapter 2- Where the Ocean Meets the Soul ༊*·˚notes: sorry this took so long, uni suddenly got busy and I didn't have time to edit this chapter. Please enjoy!! ༊*·˚warnings: car crash, light angst? i don't know brotha

Year 2025

His eyes fluttered open, disoriented. He found himself bound to the chair, a throbbing pain pulsing in his temple. Panic surged through him as he realized the precious item clutched in his hand was gone. Frantically, he scanned the room, his gaze darting everywhere in a desperate search. He strained against the ropes, his efforts futile.

Mc watched him regain consciousness, a smirk playing on her lips. She ambled towards the refrigerator, retrieving a bowl brimming with luscious berries. "If you wanted those berries so badly, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to resort to such dramatic measures." She placed the bowl temptingly on the table in front of him, the sight of the juicy berries making his mouth water.

She fed him the plump berries, juicy and sweet, they quickly disappeared into his mouth with a satisfying pop. He chewed thoughtfully, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he met her gaze.

"So," she began, "mind telling me what brings you to my closet?"

He remained silent, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken curiosity as he savored the fruit.

He hasn't uttered a single word since I found him. Mute, perhaps? Or maybe his breath is so… pungent, that he's too embarrassed to speak? Poor guy, I can only imagine the stench. A shiver ran down her spine. Life as a pauper is certainly full of surprises.

She let out a soft sigh and pulled out her phone. A little photographic evidence couldn't hurt. The flash startled him, his eyes widening momentarily. He blinked a few times, seemingly confused, then a slow smile spread across his face. He reached out a tentative finger and gently poked the screen, his eyes widening in wonder as his reflection shifted and wobbled.

She chuckled, sending the photos to her best friend with a brief explanation of her unexpected encounter. "Found this adorable lost soul," she typed, adding a heart emoji.

He leaned forward, intrigued by the small, glowing rectangle in her hand. His reflection, a curious stranger, stared back at him. He poked the screen again, this time tracing the outline of his face with his finger.

"Never seen a phone before, have you?" she teased, her voice light and playful. He tilted his head, a curious sound escaping his lips, a soft, melodic hum that made her heart flutter.

"Well, since I'm feeling generous today, I suppose I could give you a ride home," she offered, a mischievous glint in her eye. He smiled, a shy blush creeping up his neck. He gestured towards her car, a small, cheerful hatchback, and then back to her, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of gratitude and anticipation.

"All right, all right," she laughed, "but first, we must find you some proper clothes. You can't go around looking like that… well, you know."

He looked down at himself and shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. She couldn't help but smile back. This was going to be an interesting day.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

She led him to the most expensive shoe store in the mall, the one with the sparkling chandeliers and the impossibly white carpet. The salesladies, all smiles and perfectly coiffed hair, greeted her warmly.

"Bring me some men's shoes," she instructed one of the shop assistants, who promptly obeyed. When they returned, she presented a pair to him.

"Try them on," she said, gesturing towards the plush velvet chair. He looked at her, completely bewildered, then picked up a shoe and tried to slip his hand inside. The shop assistants stifled gig"

"Oh my goodness," she exclaimed, "you don't even know how to put on shoes?"

She couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and tinkling. She knelt, gently taking his large, bruised feet in her hands. "Here, let me help you."

She carefully slipped the shoes on, her fingers brushing against his skin. A strange warmth spread through her, and she quickly looked away, feeling a blush creeping up her neck again. "There," she said, standing up. "So, I'm you're Prince Charming now?" she quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

When their eyes met, the playful banter seemed to fade away. A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft murmur of the other shoppers. He smiled, a slow, gentle smile that reached his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.

"We'll take these," she said, pointing to the shoes. "And those pink heels," she added, gesturing towards a pair of sparkly pink heels displayed in the window. "They've been calling my name all day. Make them size… let's see… size seven."

Over the next few hours, they wandered through the mall, indulging in a shopping spree that would make her bank account weep. She bought clothes, jewelry, and even a ridiculously oversized stuffed yellow chick. He watched her with a mixture of amusement and wonder, his eyes wide with every new purchase.

Noticing the tired lines forming around his eyes, she felt a pang of guilt. "Hey," she said, "let's take a break. I'm going to grab a coffee. You stay here and guard the bags. Don't you dare go anywhere, okay?"

She placed the overflowing shopping bags beside him, gave him a reassuring smile, and headed toward the nearest coffee shop.

A few minutes later, she returned, her heart pounding with a frantic rhythm. The bags were still there, but he was gone. "Oh no," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Where did he go?"

Panic surged through her. She scanned the bags "Phew, the cosmetics are still here-- Arghh focus M! He's missing!!" She searched the crowded mall, her eyes wide with fear. She asked the guards, the shop assistants, and even the bewildered-looking pigeons pecking at crumbs. No one had seen him.

Tears welled up in her eyes. The mall, once a wonderland of glittering lights and tempting displays, now felt vast and empty, a labyrinth of despair.

Then, she saw him. He was sitting in the lost and found—lost and found for kids—what the heck is he doing there?! He's thrice the size of a kid!! He continued calmly licking a lollipop, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

Relief washed over her, so intense it almost made her dizzy. "Hey!" she exclaimed, hurrying towards him. "What in the world were you thinking? You can't just wander off like that!"

He looked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. He held up the lollipop triumphantly. "Found it," he seemed to say, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

She couldn't help but laugh. He looked so incredibly cute, sitting there amongst the crying children, his face smeared with sticky sweetness.

He stood up, towering over the other children, and reached for her. She hesitated for a moment, then found herself wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back, his arms surprisingly gentle, and she buried her face in his chest, inhaling the faint scent of woodsmoke and something strangely comforting.

"Let's go home," she murmured, pulling away. It was late, and they were both exhausted.

The room burst to life as I slid the keycard into the slot, illuminating the space with a warm, welcoming glow. He watched with wide, curious eyes, his head tilting as if trying to understand the magic of the card.

"Don't take that out!" I warned, already heading towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. Do whatever you want, just don't do anything stupid."

He waited until the sound of the water filled the bathroom, and then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he reached for the card. The lights flickered, a playful dance of light and shadow that filled the room.

"Stop that!" I yelled, startled. "Or else!"

He tilted his head, seemingly confused by my outburst but he didn't care one bit... He didn't even understand my words, of course, but the tone of my voice was clear: I was not amused. The flickering continued, and I could feel my irritation rising.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a robe around myself. "Stop it!" I repeated, marching towards him, my voice stern. "Are you trying to drive me crazy? Are you nuts? Because I'd be happy to help you find a good doctor."

I pinned him against the wall, hoping to intimidate him. But instead of fear, I saw something else in his eyes - a strange intensity, a blush creeping up his neck.

My heart pounded. I glanced down at myself, realizing my robe had slipped open slightly, revealing a glimpse of my chest. I quickly pulled the robe closed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "YAH!! Y-You… you pervert!" I stammered, "I don't even know why I let you stay here after you… after you sniffed my panties!"

I fled to my bedroom, mortified.

He watched me go, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. "What… what did I do?" he thought to himself. "Why does my heart feel so strange? Did I do something wrong? But… she looked so… beautiful when she was angry." He shook his head, confused.

He wandered around the room, his curiosity piqued. There were so many fascinating objects to explore - the television that spoke, the glowing orbs that illuminated the room, the strange contraption that made music. He reached out and gently touched the television screen, his finger tracing the images that flickered across it.

Suddenly, a picture of a girl appeared on the screen, laughing with her friends at a party. He pointed at the screen, his eyes widening in surprise.

He turned to look at the screen, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. He mimicked her laugh, a low, rumbling sound that was surprisingly melodic.

I peeked out from behind the bedroom door, my heart fluttering. He was looking so stupid right now, a soft smile gracing his lips. He had never laughed before, not like that. It was a sound that was both unexpected and strangely endearing.

I felt a blush creeping up my neck again. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

The morning light filtering through the blinds barely touched the television screen, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. He was still there, perched on the edge of the sofa, his eyes glued to the screen, completely absorbed in the fast-paced action unfolding before him.

"Good morning," I said, startled. "It's… it's still early."

He looked up, and I was greeted by the big dark, and swollen circles under his eyes. A stark contrast to the vibrant colors on the screen. Has he not slept at all?!?!

I burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh what the fuck!!! HAHAHA, look at yourself!!!" I snapped a picture of him, capturing the comical sight of him looking like a zombie. He just stared at me, his expression blank.

"Did you stay up all night watching this?" I asked, gesturing towards the television. He yawned a wide, cavernous yawn that stretched his lips from ear to ear. He tried to close his eyes, but the captivating images on the screen seemed to hold him captive. "You need to sleep," I said, sighing. "It's like talking to a wall sometimes."

My phone buzzed with a notification – an invitation from an old friend. "Nevermind... Change of plans, get dressed," I told him, "we're going somewhere." He looked at me, his brow furrowed, but he slowly began to obey, his movements surprisingly graceful despite his exhaustion.

I went to my closet and pulled out the new dress I'd bought during our last shopping spree. After that, I fixed my hair and applied a touch of makeup. When I went to check on him, he was a whirlwind of activity, clothes scattered across the floor like confetti. Oh my gosh

"I'm almost ready, and you're still running around like a… well, like a human tornado!'' I exclaimed.

I quickly gathered the black dress shirt and the limed spruce blazer that I had picked out for him. Then I found a pair of matching slacks and his shoes. "Hurry up," I said, handing him the clothes. "We'll be leaving in a few minutes."

When we arrived at the restaurant, I was greeted by a flurry of excited greetings from my friends. "M! It's so good to see you again!" one of them exclaimed. Aware of the man's presence they couldn't help but ask "And who is this handsome gentleman?"

My heart sank. How was I supposed to explain him? I can't tell them he's a pervert in my closet!! Think M think...should I say it?Hmm, it's not like he'll understand.

"Umm.I.. uhh This is… this is my husband," I stammered, my voice trembling. "We've been married for almost 5 years now but he sadly got into an accident a few months ago and couldn't remember a thing...Dr.Zayne told me it would take a while for him to recover. He also couldn't speak properly or think properly that's why I can't ever leave his side." I said while the others looked at us in pity.

Their expressions softened with sympathy. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," one of them said. "It must be very difficult, not only for him but also for you and your families... I'll pray for you both."

I forced a smile and held him closer while he just looked at me confusingly."It's been incredibly hard," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "He used to be so… vibrant, so full of life. Oh, how I've missed him telling me how much he loves me or the sweet compliments he'd always give me, it's been a very long time since I last heard his voice. I would do anything to hear it again.."

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "What… what do you mean?" he asked, his voice clear and surprisingly strong. "I can speak very well love, what are you saying?" He pulled me close by the waist.

The room fell silent. My friends stared at him in disbelief. A wave of embarrassment washed over me. He could speak? He could talk perfectly well!

"Excuse me," I muttered, pulling him away from the table. "I… I need some air."

We rushed out of the area, my heart pounding."What the fuck?!? what was that?? w-when did you know how to speak?? uh! I mean YOU CAN SPEAK?! This whole time... I thought I was talking to a mute! I thought I was the only one who could understand you!" I silently shouted in panic.

"One word at a time, please... you said you wanted to hear my voice.."He looked at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes."Well, you should've just stayed quiet and saved me from embarrassment!!" I said angrily.

 "I learned how to speak last night," he said, his voice calm and measured. "From the… the talking box. There was a… a human. They helped me learn your language."

"Wha.. what talking box? The television? And you learned an entire language in one night?" I exclaimed, incredulous.

He shrugged. "We… we learn quickly."

I stared at him, speechless. This man, this mysterious stranger who had appeared in my life, was more than just a mute amnesiac. He was… well, he was a lot more interesting than I had initially thought.

"Let's get out of here!" I exclaimed, pulling him out of the place in a rush and hopping into my car. "Ugh! I wanted to be famous, but not this way. There's no doubt I'll be their topic for a few weeks."

During the drive, I bombarded him with questions, It was liberating, knowing he could finally answer. The whole ride was filled with our laughter, the conversation flowing easily, a stark contrast to the tense silence that had previously dominated our interactions.

"I don't live here," I said, "My home is in Linkon. I just came here for a break. How about you? Where do you live?"

He pointed towards the vast expanse of the ocean, his gaze drawn to the horizon. "There."

"Oh really? the island over there? You must be eating fish and other seafood all day, huh?" I teased, a smile gracing my lips. He looked at me and laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that made my heart flutter.

"So," I began, "tell me about your life before… before all this."

He shrugged, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Water. Always water. Sun. Sand. Quiet."

"You lived on the island all your life?" I asked, intrigued.

He nodded, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Beautiful. Peaceful. Lonely."

"Lonely?" I echoed, surprised.

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "No one to talk to. No one to share… anything with."

My heart ached for him. He had spent his entire life in isolation, a solitary figure on a remote island.

Suddenly, a deafening roar shattered the peaceful atmosphere. In the rearview mirror, I saw a monstrous truck barreling down the road, out of control. Panic surged through me, icy tendrils gripping my heart. I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, trying to outrun the speeding vehicle. But luck wasn't on my side today. The truck swerved violently, its tires screeching against the pavement, and collided with my car.

The car lurched violently, throwing me against the side of the door. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white, my vision blurring. The world exploded into a cacophony of shattering glass and screeching metal. I was thrown against the dashboard, the air thick with the smell of burning rubber and ozone. "No!" I screamed, terror, flooding my veins. "We're going to crash!"

The world seemed to slow down, each terrifying second stretching into an eternity. I braced myself for the inevitable impact. Then, with a sickening crunch, the truck collided with my car.

Pain, sharp and sudden, erupted in my chest. I gasped for air, my lungs burning. The car, a mangled wreck, was slowly sinking into the icy depths of the ocean. I fumbled for my seatbelt, my fingers trembling, but it was useless.

The car spun out of control, hurtling towards the edge of the cliff. My breath caught in my throat, a suffocating fear constricting my chest. The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and ozone, and the acrid tang of something metallic. Disoriented, I tried to catch my breath, my ears ringing with the deafening silence that followed the crash.

"Jump!" I yelled, my voice hoarse with panic. "Jump!"

But it was too late. The car plunged over the edge, plummeting towards the unforgiving depths of the ocean. The icy water rushed in, a cold, suffocating embrace. I felt myself being pulled under, the pressure crushing my chest.

Then, darkness.

I awoke with a gasp, disoriented, gasping for air. I was surrounded by a cold, suffocating darkness. Panic clawed at my throat.

Suddenly, a strong arm encircled me, pulling me towards the surface. I broke through the surface, coughing violently, sputtering water.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw him.

He wasn't human.

I looked up to see him, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight. But he wasn't the same. His legs had transformed, merging into a sleek, shimmering tail. Scales shimmered across his skin, iridescent in the dim light filtering through the water.

He looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch. His eyes, usually filled with a quiet curiosity, now held a deep, primal fear.

He leaned in closer, his face close to mine. Our eyes met, and at that moment, time seemed to stop. He kissed me, a gentle, exploratory kiss that sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes and clung to him, desperate for the warmth of his body, for the security of his embrace.

As he pulled away, my vision blurred. The world around me seemed to tilt and sway. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, his face was the last image I saw before darkness enveloped me.

Year 1492

On the first night of her wedding, a chilling emptiness settled over her. Like ghostly whispers, memories echoed through the opulent chamber – bitter goodbyes, tears that refused to dry, and the agonizing weight of a love she knew could never be. Outside, a tempest raged, mirroring the storm within her. A suffocating silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the creak of the heavy door as it swung open.

A towering figure materialized in the doorway, his presence alone casting long, ominous shadows across the room. She flinched, her gaze darting towards the floor.

"What do you want?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He approached, his heavy shoes thudding against the wooden floor, each step a hammer blow against her fragile composure. He sat beside her, but a chasm of distance yawned between them, a chasm wider than the ocean that separated her from the love of her life.

"Your father spoke highly of you," he rumbled his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "And I... I wish to know more about you."

His large hand, rough and calloused, gently tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. But all she saw were cold, calculating eyes, eyes that held no warmth.

"I... I cannot," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I'm sorry, but I already gave my heart to someone else a very long time ago. So I'm not fine with the idea of it... Let's uhh just both keep it professional, after all this is an arranged marriage."

A cruel smile touched his lips. "A foolish infatuation, no doubt. I can offer you everything you could ever desire. Wealth, power, a life of luxury. Many women would kill for the position you now hold."

She scoffed, her voice laced with bitterness. "I am not one of them. And please, do not speak of him so lightly. He is not a 'fish boy' as you so condescendingly call him."

Fury ignited in his eyes. "Do not defy me. This marriage is not a mere formality. You are my wife, and you will obey. Attempt to flee, and I will hunt you down. He will pay the ultimate price for stealing you away." 

"Let go of me!" I said while pushing his hands away.

Terror gripped her. His possessiveness was suffocating, suffocating her hope, her joy, her very breath. In a desperate act, she reached for the nearest object, a small, ornate dagger lying forgotten on the bedside table.

"Stay back!" she warned, her voice trembling.

But her defiance only fueled his anger. He lunged forward, and in a blur of motion, the dagger found its mark. A guttural cry escaped his lips as he staggered back, blood blossoming on his chest.

Panic seized her. What had she done? She had taken a life, extinguished a life, all for a love that might never be.

Driven by a primal fear, she fled the chamber, her bare feet pounding against the cold wooden floor. She stumbled through the palace, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally, she reached the stables, her gaze falling upon a magnificent stallion, its coat gleaming in the moonlight.

She mounted the horse, urging it forward, the wind whipping through her hair as they raced through the night. She had to escape, to find him, to warn him. But the darkness, treacherous and unforgiving, obscured her path. The horse, startled by a sudden sound, reared, throwing her from its back. She tumbled down the steep cliffside, the cold, unforgiving sea swallowing her whole.

He would come, she thought, her consciousness fading. He would come for her.

But as the icy waters closed over her head, she knew that their love story, like the fleeting moonlight, was destined to remain forever unfinished.

A pair of strong arms encircled my waist, pulling me abruptly from the icy depths. I gasped for air, my lungs burning. Coughing, I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me, his face etched with worry. Relief washed over me, so intense it almost overwhelmed the fear still clinging to my bones.

"Are you alright?" he demanded, his voice rough with concern. "What happened? Why are you—"

I cut him off with a desperate kiss, pouring all my fear, my longing, and my agonizing regret into the desperate act. He responded with a fervor that mirrored my own, his lips moving against mine with a fierce urgency. It was a kiss unlike any I had ever known, a desperate dance beneath the surface of the churning sea, a desperate plea for solace, for forgiveness.

Pulling back, I searched his eyes, searching for the same desperate hope I felt within myself. "I ran away," I confessed, my voice trembling. "I couldn't bear it anymore. Life without you... it felt like a slow, agonizing death. I was a fool, a terrible fool, to think I could ever be happy with him."

He held me close, his embrace a lifeline in the chaotic sea. "My love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I understand. But we cannot be together now. It's too dangerous. You must return."

"No!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "I killed him! I took a life, and I can never forgive myself. I can't go back to that life."

His face paled. "Yuei, what happened?"

"He threatened me," I sobbed, burying my face in his chest. "He said he would hunt you down, that he would make you pay. I couldn't let him hurt you. I… and I uhh There must be another way. We will find a way to be together. We will—"

"No, Yuei," he said gently, his voice soothing."There is no other way," he whispered, despair creeping back into my voice. "I belong to the sea, and you belong to the land. We cannot survive apart."

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my hair. "I know," I murmured, his voice a low, mournful sigh. "I know."

And then, as I clung to him, a strange sensation washed over me, a dizzying sense of peace. I looked up into his eyes, but they were no longer the eyes I knew, the eyes filled with love and longing. They were vacant, empty, devoid of any recognition.

He leaned in for another kiss, a gentle, lingering kiss that seemed to drain the life from my very soul. As his lips touched mine, a wave of oblivion washed over me, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

"A Lemurian, a creature of the deep, possesses a power both wondrous and heartbreaking. With a gentle touch or a fleeting kiss, they can weave a spell that erases the memories of others. This extraordinary ability, a gift of their ancient lineage, serves as a shield against the cruelties of the world, a defense against those who would seek to harm them. For in the face of danger, a Lemurian can simply vanish from the minds of their enemies, becoming an untraceable whisper on the wind."

"Yet, this power, so potent in its protection, carries a profound and agonizing cost. For when a Lemurian employs this ability, they are not merely erasing the memories of their foes; they are erasing themselves from the hearts of those they cherish. Lovers, friends, family – all will forget the Lemurian, as if they were but a fleeting dream, a phantom of the imagination. The bonds of affection, the shared laughter, the whispered secrets – all vanish, replaced by an unsettling void."

"And so, to wield this power is an act of profound sacrifice. It is to choose oblivion over the pain of betrayal, to sever the threads of connection that bind them to the world, to become a ghost in the memories of those they love most. "

The final words, 'I'm sorry, my love,' echo with a melancholic poignancy, a silent testament to the immense love and courage required to bear such a heavy burden. 

RAAAHHH PLS READ THE OTHER CHAPTERS THANKYEWWW

<Previous Chapter ༻❁༺ Next Chapter>

[liora-vespera]

Bound By Darkness - Taehyung Oneshot

Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Dark Fantasy, Yandere

Warnings: Violence, Possessive Behavior, Dark Themes, Obsession, Mild Gore, Psychological Manipulation

Word Count: ~900

Don't forget to mention what you expect in requests, including genre.

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

They said everyone had a guardian angel. Y/N had grown up hearing the stories—tales of beings of light watching over humans, guiding them, and keeping them safe. She never doubted it, not until she realized she was different. She had no angel watching over her.

Instead, she had him.

The feeling began in her teenage years, a heavy, suffocating sensation of being watched. Not the soft, comforting presence people described when they spoke of their angels, but a dark, possessive weight that seemed to coil around her soul. At first, she dismissed it as paranoia, but it grew stronger as time went on. And then, there were the incidents.

The night someone followed her home after a late shift at work, she had been cornered in a dark alley. Panic had seized her, freezing her limbs as the man advanced with a sinister grin. She had barely managed to scream before he was ripped away from her, his body hurled across the alley like a ragdoll.

Standing in the shadows was a man—no, something more. His eyes glowed crimson, his presence consuming. He didn’t speak as he stepped forward, his lips curling into a smirk that sent chills down her spine.

“It’s taken care of,” he had said simply before disappearing into the night.

From that day forward, Y/N knew she wasn’t alone.

Her protector wasn’t an angel. He was a demon.

---

Y/N hated the way she grew used to him. He didn’t always appear, but she could feel him, lurking in the shadows, watching. At first, she feared him, but as the years passed, that fear turned into a strange, twisted comfort. He was violent, ruthless, and possessive, but he kept her safe.

It wasn’t until she saw him up close for the first time that her fear returned tenfold.

It was late, and she had fallen asleep on her couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. A strange noise woke her, and she jolted upright, her heart racing. Standing at the edge of her living room, bathed in the soft glow of the TV, was him.

He was beautiful in a way that was almost inhuman. His sharp features were framed by dark hair that fell into his piercing eyes, and the faint glow of red in his irises made her shiver. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as if he had been waiting for her to notice him.

“You’re more careless than I thought,” he said, his deep voice sending a chill down her spine.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, clutching a throw pillow to her chest as if it could shield her from him.

“Watching over you.” He tilted his head, his eyes scanning her face with an intensity that made her squirm. “You’re mine to protect, Y/N. No one else is allowed to touch you.”

The possessiveness in his tone was unnerving.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Taehyung,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Your guardian demon.”

---

Taehyung was everything Y/N had been taught to fear. He didn’t just protect her; he annihilated anyone who posed a threat. When her coworker got too close, Taehyung ensured the man never came near her again. When she rejected his help, he reminded her that she had no choice.

“You don’t get to decide,” he growled one night, pinning her against the wall after she tried to confront him about his violent methods. His eyes burned with anger, but there was something else beneath it—something raw and desperate. “You’re mine, Y/N. I will keep you safe, whether you like it or not.”

His touch was cold but electrifying, and it terrified her how easily she melted under his gaze. He was dangerous, unrelenting, and completely obsessed with her.

But what scared her the most wasn’t him. It was the way her heart raced whenever he was near, the way she found herself searching for him in the shadows, craving his presence despite the fear.

She was falling for her guardian demon.

---

Taehyung’s love was suffocating, but it consumed her in ways she couldn’t escape. He was dark and violent, but he was also hers—just as she was his.

“Don’t you see, Y/N?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing her cheek as he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that stole her breath. “You were never meant for anyone else. I’ve been watching you your entire life. You belong to me.”

And somehow, despite everything, she believed him.

She didn’t have a guardian angel. She had a guardian demon. And he would burn the world to the ground to keep her safe.

---

The End

[peachhcs]

a blurb about the time they have their first kiss??

au masterlist | this lowkey ate more than i thought it would

in one of the last days of summer before everyone had to leave again, samy was hosting one last get together at the lake house. everyone was invited so it was fairly crowded in the backyard. somehow, hannah lost the brunette in the mass of people, so she decided to stick close to the drinks instead of trying to fight her way through.

she didn't notice a certain tall brunette making his way towards her until he was basically in her eye line. "hey hananh," james caught her attention.

a quick grin appeared on the girl's lips, "hey hagens. long time no see."

it'd been awhile since the two saw one another. both of their summers were spent in completely different places that they never got a chance to catch up until right now. "yeah, for real. it's been awhile," the boy hummed as he reached for another drink.

"it's good to see you though. i heard your last few months of dev program went well. are you excited for boston?" hannah poked a bit making james flush.

"i am excited. it should be fun getting to be on the same team as the guys again. i've definitely missed playing with them," their gazes swept to where ryan and gabe were talking with their hockey buddies. hannah smiled.

"it's really cool you guys get to be on the same team again. must be really special," she met his gaze again and the boy nodded.

"definitely. how are you feeling after becoming an olympic gold medalist?" james changed the subject and he enjoyed seeing the brunette blush at his question.

"it still feels unreal honestly. i don't feel real, actually."

"well, you killed it like usual. i still don't know how you manage to flip around up there," his praise just deepened the red adorning hannah's cheeks.

"i guess it's just natural at this point. your, uh..the flowers..they were nice," it didn't take an expert for the gymnast to know who was sending her such a huge bouquet of flowers, especially when she didn't know any other hockey player using the number 10.

now it was james's turn to blush, "so you figured it out?"

"come on, i'm not that stupid. you really didn't have to do that."

"you had just won a gold medal. i always think that deserves a huge bouquet of flowers" the hockey player shrugged and hannah blushed again, steering her gaze to the ground.

"well, thank you. it was sweet."

they let a comfortable silence fill between them while taking in the party again. even though they were outside, it was loud and everyone was talking at once. hannah had no idea where samy disappeared to, yet she figured the soccer player was with will like always. it sort of didn't feel real that they were already going to be in their 2nd year of college.

"you know i'd really like to hear more about paris. would you wanna talk inside so it's quieter?" james spoke up again. he looked at her nervously like she was going to say no, but a smile danced on hannah's lips instead.

"yeah, sure."

the two managed to slip away unseen. it was much quieter when they made it back inside and cooler. hannah dug through the fridge for some water knowing she didn't want to be too hung over tomorrow. she handed a bottle to james without asking which he took gratefully. they found themselves in the living room a moment later.

"so what was your favorite part?" the boy wondered, eyeing the space between them without being too obvious about it.

"can i say everything? i loved all of it," the girl giggled.

hannah and james talked for what seemed like forever in that living room. the gymnast gave him an entire rundown of her time at the olympics and all of the cool people she met. she definitely rambled, but james didn't mind one bit. he liked hearing her talk, especially after not talking to her all summer.

that space between them on the couch got smaller and smaller too because hannah would jump up and around when she talked, so naturally, she moved herself closer each time until there was basically no space left between them.

it had to have been nearly 11:30 by then. people had gone inside, but neither james nor hannah noticed because they were too busy talking. no one else really noticed them either because they were just too drunk to notice their friends really hitting it off with each other.

when hannah stopped to take a breath and just close her mouth for a second her nad james were inches apart. her knee kept brushing his thigh and her head rested on the back of the couch so she was basically looking up at him because james had his elbow propped up to support his head. he stared at her while she stared at him realizing just how long they'd been talking.

that fire that's been ignited since james met hannah almost two years ago lit up the longer he stared at her and he knew she felt it too.

hannah knew what he wanted. maybe she wanted it too, but that voice inside of her head was preventing her from moving any closer or further. that voice that always told her she didn't need a boyfriend because it'd just throw her entirely off. she didn't even know how to function with a real boyfriend because all of her past relationships had always been stupid flings that didn't matter to her.

this mattered to her though and she knew that it wasn't gonna be some fling if she let herself indulge.

james mattered to her and she was finally starting to understand that.

"this might be super dumb, but can i kiss you?" the hockey player asked and everything hannah thought she knew went out the window because he asked and no guy had really done that before with her.

she was leaning up before she could even stop herself and james met her in the middle. their lips collided in a very passionate kiss that definitely showed all of the pent up tension that had built between the the last few years.

she could feel him breaking her walls down and letting himself into a space she's tried so hard to keep him out of.

when they finally pulled away both of them were speechless.

"so.."

"so.."

an awkward silence wedged its way between them.

"i should get some sleep. it's late. it's been a long day. thanks for talking..or letting me yap your ear off," and just as fast as hannah's walls came down, they went right back up.

she stumbled up while james quickly grew confused at her sudden change in attitude.

"night, j," she mumbked over her shoulder before he could even say anything.

"night hannah.." she was long gone to even hear him.

[messr-moony-71]

Ten Minutes: 1,602 words, trigger warnings: death, vehicle accidents, road collisions, mcd >>>READ WITH CAUTION<<<

“Are you ready?” Sirius asked through the helmet mics. Remus nodded, still trying to fasten the chin strap. He watched fondly as his husband - who had ridden the motorcycle several times before - fiddled with the straps that no one had touched since the last time he’d used it. He claimed they had been adjusted wrongly, but Sirius was sure that was impossible. “Alright there, love?”

“Perfectly fine,” Remus muttered, concentrating. When he heard the click of the fastening, Sirius heard a quiet and satisfied “yes” and couldn’t stop his smile. “Right. Death Trap Time.”

“She’s not a death trap,” Sirius laughed, climbing onto the motorbike first, offering a hand to Remus behind him.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. They were supposed to be going to James’ for Christmas dinner. Remus and Lily had spent the morning cooking and he’d come home to change and pick Sirius up before they rode over.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

They were speeding south down the M1, cruising around 100 km/h. It was dark and raining slightly, but visibility wasn’t bad so Sirius kept riding.

He should have noticed Remus’ arms tightening around his waist.

Harry was 3 years old. He was learning new words every week and was so happy to show them off, it was hard to find a moment where he wasn’t talking or babbling. James and Lily found it frustrating, especially when they were just trying to put him to sleep, but Sirius never could. He loved how his nephew looked, eyes bright with excitement as he prattled on about something no one but him could understand.

Harry was 3 years old.

They are almost there, about four minutes from their turn off. The rain is slightly worse, the roads slick beneath the wheels, but Sirius doesn’t want to stop now. Usually he would, he is a safe driver. But it’s Christmas and he does not plan on getting stuck in the rain.

So he keeps going.

Sirius hates himself.  He hates himself for taking those two stupid seconds to gaze back at his Moon. His beautiful Moony, shining in his mirrors.

But he does.

Two seconds. 60 metres.

That’s all it takes.

Usually the M1 is quick to repair, potholes filled before they’ve formed. But not always. And not this time.

In those two seconds - 60 metres - the bike drifts towards the side of the lane. The front tyre dips into the pothole. Sirius, completely unprepared, jerks the handlebars to right the fumble. Only he pulls too far.

The bike's front wheel turns, catches on the tarmac and sends it skidding sideways, into the second lane before tipping over.

Sirius feels his head hit the floor, his shoulder dragging as he’d thrown from the bike, tumbling across the ground. Remus’ arms disappear from around his waist.

His knee hurts.

That’s the first thing he thinks in those few quiet seconds afterwards. When the world is still.

That’s before he hears a whimper in the microphone.

He’s startled to his senses. Against everything he’s told about motorbike accidents, Sirius stumbles to his feet, staggering slightly as a dizzy spell threatens to tip him over. Bright lights spring up in his vision - but they don’t fade, even as the dizziness does.

Two headlights, speeding towards them. 

There’s a car horn, blaringly loud in the darkness. Sirius staggers for the side of the road, searching the bright light for Remus. He’s in the third lane, thrown the farthest from the bike.

“REMUS!” is all Sirius can manage as the other man gets to his feet. Sirius is running, but he knows he’s not fast enough.

Tires squeal, there’s a thud and a scream. It’s in his ear. In the speaker. 

He doesn’t stop running. Not when two people climb from the car - a white Toyota - shouting for an ambulance. He stops when he’s by Remus’ side, rolling him carefully onto his back.

“Remus? C-can you hear me?” he tries, shaking his shoulders. There’s heavy breathing in his ears, but Remus doesn’t speak. “I’m-I’m going to take your helmet off, okay?”

He’s not supposed to. It could be keeping his head together. But he has to. He has to see his face to know he’s alright. That he’ll be alright.

“Remus, just hang in-in there, alright? They’re coming, they’ve called an ambulance, help, help is coming, okay? You’ll be fine-you will be fine, because you’re always fine, you’re Moony. The King of Being Fine.” Sirius is babbling, but he needs to do something while he tries to get this fucking buckle undone. “I should have listened when you said this has a dodgy clip.”

It comes undone and Sirius eases Remus’ helmet off. 

“There we go, see, you’re okay, you’re okay.” Remus’ eyes are scrunched shut against the pain, breathing laboured and uneven, never a full intake. “Remus? Op-open your eyes? Please?”

Sirius is pulling his own helmet off now, one hand brushing the rain-soaked hair from Remus’ forehead, the other throwing the ruined helmet to the side.

“The ambulance is on their way,” a man says, one of the two who got out of the car. The car that hit Remus.

“How-” Sirius clears his throat, dangerously close to tears. No, he has to keep it together. For Remus. “How long?”

“Ten minutes, eleven at the latest.” The man glanced down at Remus, worrying his lip.

“He’ll be fine,” Sirius said, forcefully enough that the man recoiled and took several steps back, retreating to his wife who was standing under an umbrella.

A pained sob escapes Remus’ lips, pulling Sirius’ attention back to him. “Hurts-” he inhales sharply, tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s okay, you’ll be okay.”

Remus’ eyes are red the next time they open, bloodshot. His face has turned considerably paler, his eyes standing out against the now ashen-looking colour of his face.

“Sirius-” a shallow breath. A pained wince. “I can’t-”

“Don’t speak, love, just save your breath, yeah? You’ll be alright, help is on its way.”

“Nine minutes.”

Sirius holds Remus’ hand in his, letting Remus take his in a vice-like grip. Sirius takes it in stride, wanting to help Remus’ pain in any way. If that means breaking every bone in his hand, then so be it.

“Where’s he hurt?” the man asks, phone pressed to his ear. “The lady needs to know.”

“Remus? Did-did you hear him? What hurts?”

“My-my chest,” was followed by a round of shallow breathing and Remus’ face scrunched in pain. “Leg…head…” There was a strange wheezing and hacking cough, just one. But Remus’ breath was expelled from his chest and his shallow breaths couldn’t bring it back.

It was like watching him in a panic attack, hyperventilating, but with pain etched into every small movement.

“Just-just try to relax, yeah? Remus, you need to breathe - slowly, okay?”

“Seven minutes.”

“Remus?”

Sirius was trying not to be scared, but Remus’ chest was moving so shallowly, so fast and his hand squeezing so tight, it was hard for his heart rate not to pick up to a roar. But Remus was going to be okay - he was always okay, he’s been okay for years. Now was not his Not Okay moment.

“I’m s-sorry,” Remus wheezed.

“No, no, don’t - no, don’t do that to me. Don’t apologise, you have nothing to apologise for.”

Remus gave another choked sob, his other hand reaching for Sirius’.

“I-I-” Remus’ mouth opens and closes, eyes wide.

“Remus?”

Something dribbled from his mouth. A cough sending more over his chin. The rain washed it away quickly, but it was dark.

Dark red.

“Remus?” Sirius was afraid of how weak his voice sounded. Like a small child after a nightmare. Except his nightmares were very real, the monster under the bed rearing its ugly head.

“I love-l” Sirius shuffles closer to Remus, pressing his arms together to try and settle the shaking that had begun in Remus’ entire body.

“No, no, don’t go saying that, you’ll be fine, it’s okay.”

“Four minutes.”

“James-” Two coughs this time, Remus turning slightly on his side and spitting onto the pavement, coughing and choking for too long to be okay.

“It’s okay,” Sirius tries as Remus slumps back onto his back, gasping with the effort and pain. 

Remus’ eyes slide closed, lips moving silently. “Lily-” he grunts, swallowing another cough harshly.

“I know what you’re trying to say, you can’t, okay, you're going to be okay.”

Remus gives him a sad smile, slowly unravelling the tension in his hands, releasing Sirius. He takes a slow, deep breath. “I love-you.”

“Don’t say that, please, it sounds like you’re giving up. You-you can’t, you’re Remus, you’re my Moony, you never give up.”

The next few minutes pass with Remus struggling while Sirius fights to keep him conscious.

“Don’t slip away from me, Moony, okay, you can’t do that, I forbid it.”

Sirius would thank every god in the sky when he heard the sirens, faint, but quickly growing louder. 

“You heard that, Moony? They’re coming, you’re okay.”

Remus’ eyelids are half closed now, bloodshot eyes hidden, face even paler than before. The blue lights flooded the motorway, flashing, casting their faces in blue glow.

“Just hold in there, yeah, they’ll take care of you.”

Sirius was distracted, watching the ambulance draw nearer. He didn’t notice Remus’ choking noises, drowned by the sirens. He didn’t notice the wide-eyed panic. He didn’t notice Remus’ hands slipping from his own.

He didn’t notice him slipping away.

[disease]

How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found is a how-to book by Doug Richmond, originally released in 1985.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Very few American libraries have a copy of “How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found.” All libraries are supposed to have a copy but most have completely disappeared, and have never been found.

[the-mspfa-200-favourites-project]

How To Disappear Completely and Never Be Found

Another Flipjam Entrant, which means that I will probably not have a lot to say about this one but I will say that I kind of adore the atmosphere in this Fanadventure? It’s like. Okay so it stars a cherub, and it *really* sells the “lonely, living on a desolate rock in the middle of nowhere” vibes that the Cherub Lore in the comic would support. And because not too many fanadventures are trying to do THOSE kinds of vibes, it stands out all the more, and it’s competently done too! Sadly, the author has stated that it’s on a bit of an indefinite hiatus, but with any of these fanadventures in 2023, you never know if one of them might suddenly come back to life again…also it has a banger title. See? Not too many notes for this one, but I do recommend it.

[mesonoxian-maxx]

[quietwingsinthesky]

im going to lay here and think about pond family cuddle piles until i fall asleep

[bamgeut]

do you ever remember random people from your past and start wondering how they're doing now

[mxdotpng]

best part abt having an ff14 oc is creating side content for ur wol's character development, completely unrelated to the msq going on

[winnie-the-monster]

You ever wonder what happened to Triad Industries after s1? I understand they had a big setback bc they no longer had the malivore pit. But I don’t get them just disappearing and leaving all the info they’ve collected over the centuries behind.

[bravevolunteer]

i reblog that post and then realize i don’t even have creep on michael’s playlist, for shame

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x